The Martial Ancestor Is Me, and So Is the Demon Lord

"Third Brother, drink!"

"Before you start teaching, let's have a cup!"

Xiao Feng and Xu Zhu raised their cups and drank deep.

They stayed up all night, drinking to their hearts' content as cups passed back and forth and tales of the martial world flowed without end.

"These past years, I've often hunted on the grasslands of the Northern Desert, seeking the realm of the Martial Dao Primordial Spirit. Little by little, I began to sense something. It was as though A'Zhu was calling me, so I came back."

Xiao Feng drained several jars of wine, then shook his head with a foolish grin.

"Menggu once came to me in a dream, too. She said she was going to be reincarnated and told me to find her soon."

Xu Zhu smiled, as if he had returned to the Western Xia Ice Cave.

The others fell silent.

Who among them did not have someone they longed for?

"Senior Ye, is there a higher realm of swordsmanship beyond fighting without moves?"

Over the years, Dugu Qiubai had mastered wielding swords from afar, even turning true qi into swords.

As a Martial Dao Golden Core cultivator, he could do so with ease.

Yet he had always felt that this could not be the pinnacle of swordsmanship.

All he had done was change how he attacked.

Changing forms again and again meant nothing.

Now that he had seen Ye Zhuo again, he naturally wanted a clear answer.

"Holding a sword, commanding a sword, becoming a sword—each is a path. Walking them all is also a path."

Ye Zhuo lifted his wine cup between two fingers.

The sound of ringing swords suddenly filled the air around him.

A whole stretch of the world became a Sword Domain.

Within it, flying sand, tumbling stones, every blade