The Startling String's Deadly Sound

Sound was power.

Thus, when all things trembled, all could become blades.

Within absolute stillness, too, lurked the killing intent of ultimate motion.

Therefore, by wielding sound with the heart, shaping form from sound, and condensing the void into reality, one could destroy all things.

Twang!

In the span of a finger flick, the embryonic form of a killing art slowly appeared within Zhang Sanxian's lucid sea of consciousness—Night Rain Startles Strings.

The essence of this art was to command the killing sounds of heaven and earth, condense the myriad sounds into blades; when the heartstrings stirred, the night rain would be startled, all spirits slain, all things destroyed.

And with the formation of this art, Zhang Sanxian's realm in the Intent-Force Martial Way

naturally broke through, rising into the Realm of Forgetting Self and World.

Zhang Sanxian, who had always been carefree and unrestrained, paid no mind to this abrupt increase in realm.

Since he had accidentally broken through, then so be it. There was no need to stand there fretting like some dainty woman.

He slowly set down the wine jar and touched the battered three-stringed lute in his robes. His fingers settled upon the cold strings. There was no accompaniment, no opening stance, no gathering of force.

His slender fingertips merely swept across the taut strings with an almost casual, instinctive motion!

—!

A brief, piercing note, carrying the texture of tearing metal, abruptly exploded.

The sound was not loud, yet it was exceptionally grating.

With a cold, soul-piercing shriek, it instantly overwhelmed the violent roar of rain beyond the hall.

Even more terrifying was that

at the very instant the note rang out, a visible, translucent, distorted ripple centered on the finger with which Zhang Sanxian had plucked the string

and violently spread outward.

Whoosh—

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