Flying Sword!
I could fly standing on a sword now? Would I fall off?
Holding the little sword, Zhang Xiao let his imagination run wild. In his mind, a streak of keen sword light was already slicing across the sky.
Not only that, he had even supplied himself with the background music from "Flying Sword Wanderer."
He would drink from a wine gourd as he flew-riding a sword upon the wind, vanquishing demons beneath the heavens; with wine, I roam in carefree joy, without it, I am wild all the same...
True sword flight was supposed to involve becoming one with the sword and transforming into a streak of light, but how could that possibly look as cool as standing on a flying sword?
Being powerful was beside the point. Looking cool was a lifelong pursuit!
By the time Zhang Xiao had enjoyed a thoroughly satisfying flight on a longsword in his imagination, the young witches and wizards had already lined up under their professors' direction, ready to leave.
"I can't believe it!" Ron said, sounding utterly astonished. "Did you see that palace in the sky? Everyone's always said Zhang is the heir to an ancient Eastern noble family.
"But I always thought they meant something like the Black family or the Malfoy family."
Harry was more interested in something else. He asked in amazement:
"Guys, do you remember Mahoutokoro? The way their headmaster bowed just now was like... like a house-elf!"
As they passed through the Entrance Hall again with the other Hogwarts students and headed toward the Great Hall.
The young witches and wizards were ravenous, but none wanted to shut their mouths and conserve their energy. They could only rub their aching stomachs while chattering endlessly about everything they had just seen and heard.
They discussed whether