(Girls' Literature)
"What others dare not do, we shall do!"
The people behind Mo Xuan also drew their weapons. At this moment, no one was afraid. Some things always had to be done by someone. They were chivalrous heroes—the greatest heroes served their country and their people.
"You killed disciples of my Tianhua Sect. Unforgivable!" At the forefront of the black shadows stood an elderly man in white, leaping forward. The sword in his hand was blood-red to the extreme, steeped in boundless resentment. It had already been drawn, slashing toward Mo Xuan. Countless souls had died beneath this sword, which was why it was so crimson. But Mo Xuan knew that among those souls were countless innocent commoners.
Mo Xuan showed no weakness. His sword swept out as well, colliding with the old man's blade in a dull crash. Mo Xuan's body flew backward, smashing heavily into the ground. The long sword in his hand snapped into two pieces and scattered across the earth.
Then the people behind the old man arrived as well. Seven stood beside him, while the rest clashed with the gathered heroes. Yet the heroes were clearly outmatched. Countless were killed and wounded, but no one turned back, because when they had come here, they had never intended to return. For the sake of the people—this was their Dao, the chivalrous Dao, the pursuit of their lives.
Not far away, Mo Xuan lay amid a patch of grass. He felt as though his arm had nearly lost all feeling, and countless bones throughout his body had broken. A voice within his inner heart told him that so long as he was not dead, he would never stay fallen forever. His Dao would not allow it, nor would his sword.
"Blood Sword? I, Mo Xuan, have