Three Sword Duels

Time flew.

In the blink of an eye, more than thirty years had passed.

Immortal mists still curled around Mount Shu, and its slopes remained as green as ever.

Humble Medicine Garden.

Fang Qing gazed at the Alligator Dragon Core in his hand.

By now, the core had become transparent throughout, with a faint shimmer of waterlight around it.

It had been refined into a Water-Immortal Primordial Pearl!

Over the years, he had used refining the pearl as an excuse not to set foot outside Mount Shu even once.

But between cultivation sessions, he could at least amuse himself with the news brought by his junior brothers and sisters.

One day, two of the Seven Swords of Shu Mountain had taken a great Buddhist master as their teacher; another day, Shen Yanqiu had slain some devil.

Or the Purple-Cloud Sword had "opened an ancient immortal's cave residence and received twin hooks bestowed from heaven"—

The Seven Swords of Shu Mountain were shining ever brighter.

By now, every one of them had reached at least Gang Refining, and some had even touched the threshold of Tribulation Crossing!

Thirty years ago, at the second sword duel, rising talents from the unorthodox schools, the devil path, and the Buddhist sects might still have stood against them.

Today, it felt as though the righteous path stood alone in bloom.

That, too, was fate—the righteous path was flourishing, and Mount Shu led it. Naturally, its younger disciples advanced by leaps and bounds, far outstripping the unorthodox schools and the devil path—

But Xuanchan was stingy to the end. Of Mount Shu's vast fortune, thirty percent rests with the Seven Swords, twenty percent went to the Buddhists to secure their alliance, and the remaining fifty percent has probably been divided among those three Dharma Bodies—

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