Outside the gates of the Shu Mountain Sword Sect.
A long stairway paved with bluestone wound upward, disappearing deep into the clouds and mist.
Ancient trees towered on either side, mountain springs murmured, and white cranes occasionally swept across the sky, their cries clear and pure.
This was the site of the Shu Mountain Sword Sect's gates-Ten Thousand Sword Mountain.
At that moment, more than a dozen people stood in the square before the gates, craning their necks in anticipation.
The three at their head were particularly striking.
The man in the middle was around forty, dressed in a blue-gray robe, with a lean face and three strands of long beard beneath his chin. He was Xu Yuanzhi of the Hundred-Knowledge Hall.
Beside him stood a young man in his early thirties, with sword-like brows, star-bright eyes, and a composed bearing. He wore a moon-white robe, and an ancient sword hung at his waist, faint cloud patterns seeming to flow across its scabbard. This was Liu Qianfan, the eldest disciple of the Shu Mountain Sword Sect.
On the other side stood Wang Maozhong, a guest retainer under the Crown Prince and a nominal disciple of the Shu Mountain Sword Sect.
He had changed into fitted martial attire, with a longsword on his back and a rather helpless expression.
Several young disciples crowded around him, all firing questions at once.
"Senior Brother Wang, we heard Marquis Wu's Magic Sword acknowledged that Mr. Lu as its master. Is that true?"
Wang Maozhong nodded. "Of course it is. I saw it myself. That magic sword is in his hands now."
"Hiss-"
The disciples sucked in sharp breaths. The people of Sichuan held Marquis Wu in extraordinary reverence. To them, being acknowledged by Marquis Wu's Magic Sword was far more astounding than gaining any