Sword

In the Immortal Palace Ruins, a legend appeared. The winds and clouds around them changed with baleful force as an unbroken sword intent spread outward, sending dust and sand flying while frost and snow drifted down.

Clad in azure, with black hair and a young, handsome face, he looked peaceful and pure, without the slightest killing intent or trace of worldly strife.

At the sight of the man before him, the demon body's expression shook, and a rare change flickered through his deep eyes.

The two passed each other without exchanging a word. The azure robes fluttered loudly in the wind; though he said nothing, he gave everyone present an indescribable pressure.

The stunned crowd found it difficult to regain their senses. The handsome, unworldly figure walked with steady steps, like a sword immortal cast down into the mortal realm, treading a road through the red dust.

Before the sword was even unsheathed, the Great Dao sensed it. Above the heavens, streaks of sword light materialized into crisscrossing chains, sealing the immortal sword.

A streak of sword light flashed across the Red Luan Realm King's hand, and blood splattered.

A sword above swords could not be described in words. Through the senses shared by the powerful, both the Red Luan Realm King and the Ink Lord wore grave expressions.

This man was anything but ordinary.

"Yin'er, watch carefully. He was the one who taught your master the sword. In the battle to come, remember as much as you can," Ning Chen said solemnly, looking at the little girl beside him.

"Mm."

Yin'er answered softly. Looking at the young man ahead, glimmers of light rose in her large eyes. If he had taught Ning Chen swordsmanship, then he had to be incredibly, incredibly powerful.

The sword rack touched the ground. The