Heavenly Sword

"Ji Xiaofu, you sinful disciple, get over here at once!"

Abbess Miejue's voice was icy to the bone, filled with towering fury.

Her gaze was like blades as she stared fixedly at Yang Buhui and demanded harshly, "Speak! Whose bastard child is this girl?"

"Master..."

Ji Xiaofu's face turned white as paper. Pulling Yang Buhui forward several steps, she dropped to her knees with a thud, her voice trembling. "Your disciple has failed you... She... she is my daughter. Her name is Buhui."

"Buhui? How very fitting!"

Abbess Miejue trembled with rage, the veins at her temples bulging.

She had once placed great hopes on this disciple, even considered naming her as the successor to the sect leadership. At this moment, she was disappointed and heartbroken beyond measure.

Suppressing the urge to immediately purge her from the sect, she forced out cold words through clenched teeth. "You! Come over here with me!"

She pointed toward an open patch of ground nearby, clearly intending to give Ji Xiaofu one last chance.

Ji Xiaofu shuddered and was about to rise as though resigned to her fate.

Just then, Zu Hao stepped forward and said loudly, "Miss Ji, if you do not wish to go, then you need not. With Zu here today, no one will take you away by force."

That was what he said, but in truth, Zu Hao had deliberately arranged for Abbess Miejue to come here so he could seize the Heavenly Sword and obtain the martial arts hidden within it.

Abbess Miejue had no idea she had already walked into a trap. Hearing him, she whipped around, her frigid gaze shooting toward Zu Hao like two arrows. "Where did this ignorant brat come from? How dare you interfere in my Emei Sect's family affairs? You're courting death!"

Before her words had faded, the Heavenly Sword flew from its sheath with a ringing clang. A dragon's cry rang out, and as she slashed, an incomparably fierce sword aura tore through the air and came crashing down toward Zu Hao's head!

The Heavenly Sword had been drawn, its edge fully revealed!

"Master! Don't!"

Ji Xiaofu cried out in alarm. She knew the Heavenly Sword's power well. Abbess Miejue's furious blow clearly meant to kill Zu Hao on the spot.

"Courting death!"

Zu Hao's expression hardened, and a sharp gleam flared in his eyes. He flashed aside, evading the sword's edge.

At the same time, the Black Iron Triple-Edged Sword in his hand gave a soft hum and turned into a streak of silver light as it shot forth.

Abbess Miejue's vision blurred. Before the Heavenly Sword could return to defend her, a piercing pain suddenly shot through her wrist. The five fingers gripping the sword instantly went limp, and the Heavenly Sword, renowned throughout the realm, slipped from her grasp and clattered to the ground.

She looked over in horror, only to see that her right wrist had been severed, blood spraying wildly.

"My hand—ah!"

Pain and terror drew a shrill scream from her.

Yet the Three-Edged Sword traced a breathtaking arc through the air. Its momentum had not faded, and it abruptly turned back at ghostly speed.

Splat!

The sound of a sharp weapon piercing flesh rang out clearly.

Abbess Miejue's scream came to an abrupt halt.

She lowered her head in disbelief, staring at the blood gushing from her chest. Her body swayed twice, and with boundless rage, resentment, and shock in her eyes, she crashed heavily forward and died without even leaving behind a final word.

In an instant, the entrance to Butterfly Valley fell deathly silent.

The wind swept past, stirring several fallen leaves, but it could not disperse the thick stench of blood or the shock and fear written across every Emei disciple's face.

The master they saw as godlike, unmatched in martial arts and fierce in temperament...

Had actually been effortlessly slain by this seemingly peerlessly handsome young man in a single exchange?

All the Emei disciples stood frozen in place, dumbstruck, as though they had collectively lost the ability to think.

"Master!"

"Master!!"

Only after seeing Abbess Miejue fall dead did the Emei disciples snap out of their shock. They rushed forward one after another, their cries shaking the air.

Although Abbess Miejue had usually been cold and ruthless, she was extremely protective of her disciples.

So long as they did not violate sect rules and precepts, she had always sheltered them.

After so many years as master and disciples, their bond had long since run deep. Seeing her suddenly perish now, every one of them was overwhelmed with grief.

Even Ji Xiaofu was streaming with tears as she knelt on the ground, her heart filled with countless conflicting emotions.

Her master had been strict with her, but she had taught her martial arts and protected her during her most difficult times.

Only Ding Minjun secretly rejoiced. Good riddance. From now on, I'll be the leader of the Emei Sect.

Zu Hao paid no heed to the Emei disciples' weeping.

With a gesture of his right hand, the Three-Edged Sword returned to its sheath. Then, with a grasp of his left hand through empty air, the Heavenly Sword lying on the ground flew up with its sheath and landed steadily in his palm.

The purpose of his journey had been the supreme arts hidden within the Heavenly Sword.

If Miejue had been a little more polite, Zu Hao would not have minded sharing the martial arts manuals after reading them.

After all, whether one person practiced martial arts or a whole group did made no difference to Zu Hao.

But Miejue had tried to kill him the moment she arrived, so she could hardly blame Zu Hao for showing no mercy in return.

With the sword now in hand, Zu Hao swept his gaze over the crowd, his voice as cold as ice. "Butterfly Valley is not a place for you to run wild."

"Miejue relied on her strength to act tyrannically. Meeting such an end was entirely her own doing."

"Since none of you attacked, take her body and leave at once. If you continue to pester me, don't blame Zu's sword for showing no mercy."

Though the Emei disciples were filled with grief and fury, they knew this man's martial arts were unfathomable. Even their master had died at his hands; they were even less of a match for him.

Ding Minjun looked at the Heavenly Sword in Zu Hao's hand, unwilling to accept it but too afraid to act. She immediately gritted her teeth and said, "Emei will avenge today's grievance! Let's go..."

Before she could finish, Zu Hao drew the Heavenly Sword and cut off Ding Minjun's head with one stroke.

"What gives trash like you the right to threaten me? I gave you face, didn't I?"

Zu Hao looked coldly at the Emei disciples, who had fallen silent in terror. "What are you still standing around for? Waiting for me to invite you to lunch?"

The other Emei disciples were terrified and did not dare say another word. In tears, they collected the bodies of Miejue and Ding Minjun and left dejectedly.

Ji Xiaofu looked back at Yang Buhui, her eyes full of reluctance and struggle, but she still gritted her teeth, turned around, and followed her fellow disciples.

She was an Emei disciple. In the end, she had to see her master off one last time.

After everyone had gone far away, Zu Hao finally lowered his head to examine the famed sword in his hand.

The Heavenly Sword was ancient in design and radiated a chilling aura. Cloud patterns and archaic script were carved upon its sheath. It truly was a peerless weapon.

But what he cared more about was what lay hidden within the sword.

He lightly tapped the sword ridge with his knuckle, producing a clear ring, then took Little Divine Edge from his storage space.

Both weapons could cut through iron as though it were mud. He wondered which could cut through the other.

Zu Hao circulated his third-rate inner force and brought the two swords together.

With a crisp ding, Little Divine Edge snapped on the spot, while only a tiny nick appeared on the Heavenly Sword.

Looks like the Heavenly Sword is still the better one.

Zu Hao put away the broken Little Divine Edge, studied the Heavenly Sword, set it on a rock, stepped on the blade, and bent it hard.

Great strength worked miracles. The Heavenly Sword's blade bent to an exaggerated angle, then snapped with a crack.

As the blade broke, two scrolls of silk, thin as cicada wings and white as snow, drifted out from the gap in the sword hilt.

Zu Hao had expected this. Casually putting away the broken sword, he willed it, and invisible force drew the two silk scrolls gently into his hand.

He opened them and saw dense lines of tiny writing. One scroll bore the title Nine Yin Manual; the other, Dragon-Subduing Eighteen Palms.