Lu Yang slowly woke up and found himself lying on the ground, with Yun Mengmeng looking at him with concern.
"How long was I unconscious?" Lu Yang's mind was a little muddled. He only remembered fighting until he was completely exhausted, then losing consciousness.
"About ten breaths." Yun Mengmeng lived a carefree life and had never been very good at keeping track of time.
"Lu Yang, take this pill." The Sword Tower elder had hurried over too and quickly took out a top-grade pill to help Lu Yang recover.
The pill tasted cool and refreshing. As it slid down into his stomach, his whole body felt as though he were soaking in water—cool and comfortable.
Once he came to, Lu Yang let Yun Mengmeng help him up. He sat cross-legged where he was, circulated his cultivation method, and regulated his breathing. Before long, he could move freely again.
His spiritual power had already been comparable to that of someone in the Body Integration Realm. Even after using it all up, it recovered to normal very quickly.
As an immortal sword's spirit, Mingtai recovered quickly too.
"Senior Brother Lu Yang, I'm impressed." Mingtai walked over. He had used every trump card in that fight, yet still lost to Lu Yang—and he accepted the defeat wholeheartedly.
That was the nature of all sword cultivators: straightforward and forthright. A win was a win, a loss was a loss. There was nothing shameful about admitting it.
"Not at all. I just got lucky," Lu Yang said modestly. His final move, Myriad Swords Return to the Origin, had only been an experiment. The odds of success had been fifty-fifty.
After watching that battle, many sword cultivators had gained some insight. They didn't dare waste time and sat down to meditate on the spot.
Such an