At first, the sword qi was gentle, like an endless trickling stream. Each move and stance carried a soft beauty.
But with a loud song, the sword intent suddenly changed.
"A silver saddle shines on a white horse, swift as a shooting star. One man killed every ten steps, no trace left for a thousand miles. When the deed is done, brush off the robes and leave, hiding body and name..."
"A hall full of flowers intoxicates three thousand guests; one sword's frost chills fourteen provinces."
Yun Yun's expression abruptly changed. Strange light flickered in her eyes again and again, and she could not help sitting up straight and watching seriously.
This sword, these stances, were thick with killing intent, yet as carefree as a shooting star. They truly answered that line: one man killed every ten steps, no trace left for a thousand miles.
Lin Qingyun grew increasingly lost in himself. His moves and stances shifted more and more frequently, sword qi surging without rest, as though it had formed a Sea of Qi of sword qi around him. The sword in his hand hummed and trembled, spitting out a three-foot sword radiance.
Suddenly, Lin Qingyun's advancing figure came to a stop. He said calmly, "This is the final stance."
"Blood flows in waves for ten thousand miles, corpses pillow mountains a thousand fathoms high!"
He turned back and slashed upward. Countless streams of sword qi burst forth, like an endless river. Wherever they passed, blood flowed for ten thousand miles and corpses rose and sank.
With this sword, no sound of falling water could be heard from the waterfall outside the cave.
His slightly closed eyes slowly opened. Lin Qingyun handed the sword back and said, "This sword art can't really be called anything amazing, but it can