Shang Yunning drew his sword, thought for a while, and stepped into the pool without a word.
And so the spectators throughout the garden witnessed the true sword of Heavenly Mountain.
Earlier, when swordsmen of the various schools had sought instruction from the central six seats, eighty percent had directed their questions to Heavenly Mountain's two representatives of the "Eight Steeds" and "Seven Jades." Naturally, since this was Heavenly Mountain's Sword Banquet, the two answered whatever they were asked.
Shang Yunning had been quite earnest, sometimes even stepping down to give close instruction on a couple of moves. His Sword Use was solid to the extreme, but it seemed very plain, and so he had left less of an impression than the others.
But now, facing himself fighting with all his might, he poured forth the full measure of Heavenly Mountain's sword-"high wind falls from heaven, cold snow gives birth to jade"-and the entire pool seemed dyed an icy white in an instant.
Seeking antiquity and rich in meaning, Heavenly Mountain's sword was utterly different in style from the Mountain Ghost Sword: pure and lovely, magnificent, aloof, vast and desolate. It seized the soul more powerfully than the Mountain Ghost Sword. Moments ago, people had been marveling constantly at the brilliant exchanges of the swordsmen on the pool; now they forgot them all.
Lu Wei's sword had seemed to sweep away everything that came before; Shang Yunning's sword seemed to paint it in new colors.
Countless spectators had room in their minds for nothing but these two men's swords.
But Shang Yunning failed too.
Unlike Lu Wei, he did not return empty-handed; he lost by a move. For Shang Yunning did indeed pursue victory more keenly than Lu Wei, and Heavenly Mountain's sword was indeed somewhat more fragile than the