The Sword Formation

In martial arts, mastering one principle meant mastering them all.

Though He Heng himself was no pure swordsman, his martial arts realm far surpassed that of the so-called God of Swords and had entered a whole new domain. In the Great Heaven World, this would be called nearing the Earth Law Realm.

At this level, flowers were not flowers, mist was not mist, and people were not people.

Whatever weapon one wielded, one could reach the utmost limits of its use.

Of course, He Heng's understanding of the sword was neither pure nor wholehearted. He could not attain the realm of becoming one with the sword. So even if his realm let him approach that of the God of Swords, his actual swordsmanship still fell short of a true Sword God's. At most, it was on par with Ye Gucheng's, who now stood infinitely close to becoming a Sword God.

He Heng was true to himself and true to the Dao!

He cultivated Unity of Heaven and Man, then sought to replace Heaven's Dao with his own. To him, weapons were merely external things that could be discarded at any moment. He could never devote himself to one, and so he would never surpass the likes of Xie Xiaofeng and Ye Gucheng in the way of the sword, however high his realm might be.

But He Heng practiced martial arts only to protect the Dao. Why would he chain himself to the mere way of the sword?

Besides, even with an impure sword heart, how many people in this world could match his swordsmanship, given his martial arts realm?

He didn't know about the others, but he knew that Shuai Yifan, at least, was no match for him.

Sword energy flowed like water, then suddenly sliced through a thread of dark light, its graceful aura surging as it thrust forward.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The clash of metal rang out without pause. Swordlight flashed, shrouding the entire mountaintop in a murderous chill. Surging sword intent swept through the air, brilliant light raging in every direction.

Shuai Yifan's sword was incomparably sharp. Every stroke carried the full force of his Essence, Qi, and Spirit, while a tide of killing intent bore down, sharp enough to slice through iron and sever the flow of energy.

He Heng was even more terrifying. The Longevity Sword flowed through his hands like drifting clouds and running water. Every stroke was a marvel of natural perfection, brimming with the mysteries of Fortune.

"Bang!"

The two moved incredibly fast. In just a moment, they exchanged dozens of blows, countless sword-images flickering between them.

For all the words spent describing it, their clash had lasted only an instant. The Longevity Sword had already come to rest half an inch from Shuai Yifan's throat.

Shuai Yifan glanced at the sword in his hand. Sweat soaked his back. Then he looked at He Heng. "Do it. Kill me. I was fortunate enough to witness the realm of the God of Swords in this life. My lifetime of sword training hasn't been in vain."

As he spoke, there was no fear in his eyes, only reverence—a yearning for a higher realm of the sword.

He Heng gave him a cold glance, then swept the Longevity Sword back into its scabbard.

"Why?" Shuai Yifan stared at him, baffled. "I was the one who tried to kill you. Now that I've been bested, I deserve to die. Why won't you strike?"

Meeting his eyes, He Heng spoke one word at a time. "I'm not sparing you because I don't want to kill you. I'm sparing you because you're still useful."

Shuai Yifan looked puzzled. "What do you want me to do? As long as it doesn't go against my principles, I won't refuse anything I can do."

He Heng looked at him and smiled. "Nothing much. I heard Li Guanyu created a sword formation said to be Invincible Under Heaven. The six of you invited this time are all renowned swordsmen. I'd like to see this formation for myself. It wouldn't be any fun without you."

"You want to face that sword formation?" Shuai Yifan's brow furrowed. "Do you know how dangerous it is? The six of us together would be nearly unbeatable under Heaven. And that's before you consider how much more formidable this formation makes us."

"There's no need for you to worry about that, Elder Shuai. I know all about it. If the formation weren't powerful, I wouldn't have come." He Heng watched Shuai Yifan, his tone calm.

"But..."

Shuai Yifan was about to say more when a sharp shout suddenly came from behind him.

"If he's bent on getting himself killed, Brother Shuai, why stop him?"

He Heng looked over and saw several people filing into the pavilion.

They were dressed in pure-black, incredibly soft silk robes. The gleaming fabric flowed like water, yet it didn't ripple at all as they walked.

Their steps, too, glided like flowing water, light as ghosts.

Their faces were veiled in black silk, even their eyes hidden. No one could tell who they were. Yet a daunting authority seemed to radiate from them as they moved. Though no one could identify them, no one dared treat them with the slightest contempt.

The first man was lean and tall, standing straight as a spear. In his hand was a strange, ancient bronze sword.

The second was short and thin; the third, tall and powerfully built. Together, they made a striking contrast, impossible to overlook.

The swords in these two men's hands gleamed brilliantly, clearly no ordinary weapons. But their shapes were unremarkable, and anyone could recognize their origins.

The fourth man was entirely unremarkable, carrying an equally ordinary bronze sword. Even if he passed someone on the road, they likely wouldn't give him a second glance.

The fifth was short and fat, his belly round as a bead. His sword was neither metal nor iron. On closer inspection, it had been carved from wood.

None of the five spoke or moved, but as soon as they entered, the place seemed to fill with a pressing murderous aura that sent a chill through everyone.

"Oh, I take it you gentlemen are the other swordsmen who'll form the sword formation. You're all among the greatest masters of our time. You have my respect." Though He Heng's words were polite, his tone held no respect at all—only the faintest trace of mockery.

Their expressions darkened. One of them glanced at He Heng, then fell silent for a moment before sighing. "We old fellows who don't even dare show our faces hardly deserve anyone's respect."

He Heng looked at them coldly and said nothing. He merely tightened his grip on his sword.

One of the five suddenly stepped forward, seeming somewhat reluctant. "Young man, it's no small feat to reach such a realm at your age. You put old men like us to shame. You could have a much brighter future. Why risk your life against this sword formation? If you change your mind now, there's still time."

The others watched He Heng coldly in silence, seeming to agree.

He Heng looked at them, then burst into laughter. "I've never regretted anything I've done. Besides, do you really think you've already got me beaten?"

A murderous edge suddenly emerged from He Heng, shaking the pavilion. Leaves drifted down across the vast expanse around them.

"Young man, don't let your arrogance bring about your own ruin!" one man said indignantly. He was the one who had shouted at the start.

"Whether I'm arrogant or not, you'll find out soon enough!" He Heng cast a sidelong glance at the six, his eyes brimming with fighting spirit and murderous intent. "Come on. In the end, everything comes down to the swords in our hands."

He Heng stood proudly at the center, sword raised, surveying his surroundings.

The six exchanged glances. "Since that's what you want, let life and death be decided by fate."

They swiftly took their positions, each facing a different direction. Forming the Six Harmonies Formation, they surrounded He Heng and stood with their swords raised.

The autumn wind sighed, and the world turned cold. In the tranquil stillness, a sword moved!