Old Man Mu believed his fear had been uprooted decades ago and left to rot underground alongside his master's battered corpse. So he merely smiled at He Nu's "I can."
He was wary of He Nu, just as he was wary of the Dragon King and the Unrivaled King. But he had never been afraid. Even when he'd come within a hair's breadth of death time and again, with nowhere left to turn, he hadn't been afraid. There was no way he'd be frightened by an intangible killing intent.
He glanced at the Dragon King but received no particular signal, so he chuckled. "I'm not bragging, but back in my day, I killed like there was no tomorrow. I doubt anyone else in this hall can match me. As for killing intent, I like to think I've got a little of that too. I've even made a few opponents too scared to move. It's quite satisfying, but you can't force it. Trying that on me, though? Heh..."
Incredulous gasps suddenly rang out all around him. Old Man Mu looked left and right, baffled. Then he looked up—and for the first time in many years, he truly jumped in fright. His wrinkled face changed color at once: He Nu's sword was hanging just an inch or two above his head. It looked as though it had been there for a while.
Old Man Mu sprang back more than ten paces and said furiously, "Th-this can't be. You... I... What kind of trick is this?"
"The Dragon King's explanation of the seven methods of training, and the moves he demonstrated, gave me an idea," He Nu said. She sheathed her sword, her voice slow and feeble, unlike her usual self. "Killing intent is power. If it can be used in swordplay, then