Justice from Heaven

Chen Xin stomped the already shattered stone slabs beneath his feet to pieces, the Seven Kill Sword trailing a streak of light behind him.

His sword descended from above in the most direct central cleave.

One strike of Seven Kill stilled the storm and dust; five years of hidden edge had dared not sleep.

Its frost blade split the path beyond the clouds, while fading sunset shattered the old mountains and rivers.

Zhou Qiubai met him head-on.

He was not fast—slower, even, than at any previous moment—but every step fell upon a strange rhythm.

It was as though the wind pushed him onward, light and shadow guided his steps, and the very pulse of Seven Treasure Mountain drove him forward.

The White Clothes Sword extended.

As the blade thrust out, its edge shifted slightly. Every adjustment perfectly avoided the sharpness of the Seven Kill Sword Intent, yet landed precisely in the gaps between its flowing movements.

This was neither a block nor an evasion, but a state that transcended the opposition between attack and defense.

He no longer resisted it. Instead, he made himself a part of Chen Xin's Sword Intent, breathing with it and resonating alongside it.

The two streaks of sword light collided in midair.

The Seven Kill Sword struck the flat of the White Clothes Sword with a crisp metallic clang.

Then, drawn by a strange force, the Seven Kill Sword slid to one side.

Chen Xin's Sword Intent was as heavy as a collapsing mountain, yet Zhou Qiubai did not try to bear it.

His White Clothes Sword wound its way upward, pressed close against the spine of the Seven Kill Sword. The mountain crashed upon the water's surface, yet the water did not break. Instead, the mountain sank into it.

Chen Xin's pupils abruptly constricted.