Cultivator (Part 1)

Yan Chihuo saw that this longsword was covered in dust, almost like a wooden sword, yet the burly men surrounding him all showed fear on their faces. Could this person really have charged in alone with such a wooden sword?

The young man glanced into the Justice Gathering Hall, took a light step forward, and before anyone could blink, he was already in front of one of the burly men. He shouted in a low voice, "Watch the sword!" As the words fell, he thrust his sword forward. The burly man raised a round shield to meet it. A flash of golden light ran across the longsword, and it pierced through the shield like tofu, burying itself in the man's throat.

Only then did a cracking sound reach everyone's ears—the noise of the sword breaking through the shield. Yun Zaitian was greatly shocked. This burly man had once been a fierce bandit with considerable martial skill, and the round shield in his hand was forged from refined steel, weighing fifty-six jin. Even a sword sharp enough to cut iron like mud could never have pierced it in one strike, yet this young man had done so with such ease.

Yan Chihuo, however, understood. That single strike was purely to establish dominance. In truth, the young man could have landed the blow before the other even had time to raise his shield, but he chose to show off his profound skill instead.

The young man stepped into the hall, not even glancing at Yan Chihuo and the others, and said, "Which one of you is Yun Zaitian? This Humble One is Gao Kun, son of the late Gao Bing."

Yan Chihuo and the other two had initially thought the young man was one of Yun Zaitian's men. Hearing this, they realized he was the young master of the Golden Sword Gang, here to seek revenge. Qu Wuxing, skilled in swordsmanship, saw the young man's astonishing sword technique and stepped forward, saying, "We failed to uproot the weeds yesterday. I never expected you'd deliver yourself to our doorstep. Truly, there is a road to heaven, but you refuse to walk it; the gates of hell are open, yet you barge right in."

With that, he drew the longsword from his back. The blade gleamed like autumn water—a truly fine sword. Gao Kun sneered contemptuously and said, "I'll let you have three strikes. I won't dodge or block. If you can force me back half a step, I'll concede defeat."

Qu Wuxing snorted, "Arrogant brat. Even your dead father wouldn't dare be so overconfident."

Gao Kun's expression darkened. "How dare you disrespect my father." Before the words faded, Qu Wuxing thrust his sword. The blade flashed, enveloping Gao Kun entirely. But a glow shimmered over Gao Kun's body, coating him in a layer of golden light. With a clang, Qu Wuxing's sword struck the golden light, bent, and slid aside.

"A cultivator!" Yan Chihuo and the others were stunned. On the Heavenly Heart Continent, cultivators were revered like immortals. Legend had it that only martial artists who reached the pinnacle of their art could step onto the path of cultivation, but even then, they were merely the lowest rank. Those who cultivated immortal secrets from childhood were far more formidable.

Qu Wuxing's face turned pale. He finally understood why the other had dared to offer him three strikes. At this rate, even three hundred strikes wouldn't scratch him.

Gritting his teeth, he swung his second strike, slashing at Gao Kun's waist. With another clang, it was deflected by the golden light. Gao Kun said coldly, "Second strike."

Qu Wuxing roared and unleashed his third strike, which, of course, proved futile. A sinister grin spread across Gao Kun's face as he swung his own sword.

Yan Chihuo lunged forward, grabbing Qu Wuxing. His body moved like a wisp of white smoke, retreating over three zhang in an instant. But Qu Wuxing's chest was already sliced open, a trickle of blood seeping out. Had Yan Chihuo been half a step slower, that strike would have pierced straight through him.

A heavy crash rang out as a bronze incense burner fell to the ground. Zhou Fang, seeing that Qu Wuxing couldn't block the strike, had hurled the burner. It weighed over two hundred jin, yet it hadn't even slowed the sword for a moment.

Zhou Fang and Qu Wuxing's mouths went dry. This immortal treasure was truly extraordinary—nothing could withstand a single blow. But Gao Kun's face grew serious as he looked at Yan Chihuo and said, "May I ask which sect you belong to? Why are you meddling in this?"

Yun Zaitian, cunning as ever, didn't know why Gao Kun was wary of Yan Chihuo, but he understood that Gao Kun would never let him go. So he spoke up, "This Humble One is Yun Zaitian. Allow me to introduce you, Young Master Gao. This is Yan Chihuo, the foremost of the Tiger Roar Manor's Thirteen Guardians. Your father died by his sword."

Gao Kun's face twisted. His body shot backward like a ghost, and he thrust his sword at Yun Zaitian. Though Yan Chihuo loathed Yun Zaitian, he couldn't just watch him die. He flicked his finger, and a Flying Locust Stone shot out, striking the sword's tip. With a crack, the stone shattered, but the sword veered aside, grazing past Yun Zaitian's face. Startled, Yun Zaitian quickly sidestepped three paces.

Yan Chihuo was taken aback. The two-hundred-jin incense burner hadn't stopped the sword, so he'd thought the Flying Locust Stone would be useless—just a token effort. Yet it had saved Yun Zaitian's life, which he hadn't expected at all.

Gao Kun turned to Yan Chihuo and said, "It seems you insist on interfering."

Yan Chihuo replied, "I can't just stand by and watch this man die by your sword."

A flash of golden light, and Gao Kun's longsword thrust at Yan Chihuo. Not only was Gao Kun impervious to blades and spears, his sword was incredibly sharp, and his movement was so swift it was almost impossible to defend against.

With a clink, Yan Chihuo suddenly held a short sword in his hand. He struck the spine of Gao Kun's blade, deflecting it.

Yun Zaitian finally saw clearly that Yan Chihuo's weapon was a jade sword. Yesterday, Yan Chihuo had killed over twenty men with a single strike each, but Yun Zaitian had never gotten a good look at his blade.

Gao Kun sneered at the jade sword. "So you don't even have a single Talisman Artifact. With just your cultivation, what can you do to me?"

Yan Chihuo didn't understand what Gao Kun meant. He simply said calmly, "Come at me, then."

A flash of golden light, and it seemed as if dozens of swords appeared in the air, all thrusting at Yan Chihuo at once. Qu Wuxing's face turned ashen. "Even if he weren't a cultivator, with swordsmanship like that, I'd be no match."

A series of clinks rang out as Yan Chihuo retreated over ten paces, swinging his jade sword. Each strike met the spine of Gao Kun's blade, and he blocked them all.

Seeing this, Gao Kun grew more confident. He knew Yan Chihuo had no treasures and could only rely on his profound cultivation to resist. In moments, the entire hall was filled with golden light, obscuring both Yan Chihuo and Gao Kun from view.