"And I must also thank you for all your hard work cultivating. I trust no one will know tomorrow that I killed you."
Uncle-Master Zuo smiled and said, "This is the summit of Sword Peak. Even someone in the Sea-Breaking Realm would not know what was happening here unless they deliberately examined it with their Sword Sense."
"If you don't want anyone to know what happened tonight, you must first make sure you can kill me."
With that, Zhao Layue waved her hand. A streak of green sword light flew out of her sleeve and darted rapidly before the cliff face.
The green sword was extraordinarily nimble and swift, weaving an impenetrable-looking pale green Light Screen.
Watching this, Uncle-Master Zuo said approvingly, "Already so close to perfecting Mind Bearing. Truly remarkable."
In the darkness, Jing Jiu nodded as well. Beyond the realm Zhao Layue had displayed, he appreciated her approach even more.
-Since there was no opportunity for a surprise attack, she might as well summon her sword beforehand and prepare her defenses.
Unfortunately, the gap between Zhao Layue's realm and her opponent's was too great. Even defending, she could not hold out.
Jing Jiu soon reached a conclusion: Zhao Layue would undoubtedly die tonight unless something changed.
Atop Cloud-Traveling Peak, sword intent ran wild, the night was deep, and auras shifted endlessly, but the only variable... was himself.
I can't beat him...
Jing Jiu sighed inwardly.
His current realm was even lower. He had no way to help her unless that gray-robed man stayed still.
But who would stand motionless and wait for you to reach out your hand?
Jing Jiu glanced at his bracelet. What other way is there?
Just then, the battle began.
As expected, the outcome of this battle held no suspense. It could even be called a one-sided infliction of injuries.
The night wind abruptly broke, the rolling clouds stirred slightly, and a plain gray flying sword crossed more than a hundred yards in an instant, arriving before the cliff face.
An extremely dense series of faint clashes between flying swords rang out.
Dozens of sparks appeared almost simultaneously across the Light Screen woven by the little green sword.
Jing Jiu saw clearly that those seemingly tiny sparks actually harbored the might of lightning and possessed terrifying force.
Jade Lake Peak's Eight Directions Sword Art was as domineering as ever.
A moment later, the Hidden Thunder Sword effortlessly tore through the Light Screen woven by the little green sword.
The little green sword fell to the ground like scrap iron.
Zhao Layue sat cross-legged in the hollow in the cliff, utterly unable to dodge.
With several dull sounds, the plain gray flying sword pierced her body repeatedly before flying back, leaving seven bloody holes.
Those seven holes went straight through her body, blood pouring ceaselessly from them. It was a brutal sight.
Her face snow-white, Zhao Layue leaned against the cliff, blood spilling from the corner of her mouth, her gaze faint.
Contests of the Sword Dao had always been this decisive and simple. Victory and defeat, even life and death, could be decided in an instant.
The principle that the strong remained strong was demonstrated with extraordinary clarity-even cruelty-in battles between flying swords.
For the one in the lower realm, if your sword could never reach your opponent, how could you defeat them?
"Do you have any last words?"
Uncle-Master Zuo walked slowly up to the cliff and asked Zhao Layue expressionlessly.
This was not a victor toying with and humiliating the weak before their death.
Had he wished it, Zhao Layue would already have been dead.
It was simply that the forces behind him wanted to know what exactly Zhao Layue was investigating and how much she had already discovered.
Most crucially, at whose instruction was she investigating this matter-Qingrong Peak's or Heavenly Light Peak's?
The words of the dying could be trusted.
He hoped to obtain some valuable information.
Zhao Layue raised her head, looked at him, and said, "What I want to say is that you should never have come so close."
As she began speaking, something suddenly changed.
The bracelet on her wrist abruptly became a streak of silver light, shooting through the air like a snake. It lengthened instantly, transforming into a Sword Restraint that bound Uncle-Master Zuo's body!
Amid a series of ripping sounds, several slits appeared in Uncle-Master Zuo's gray sword robe.
"You think you can survive with this thing?"
Uncle-Master Zuo looked at her and spoke coldly.
The plain gray flying sword appeared again, slashing toward the Sword Restraint.
A sharp, clear crack rang out.
Where the gray flying sword struck the Sword Restraint, a fist-sized burst of lightning and flame bloomed.
Yet the Sword Restraint did not snap as he had imagined.
Uncle-Master Zuo's expression changed slightly. What is going on?
The Sword Restraint tightened, sinking into his body. In an instant, blood seeped out.
Uncle-Master Zuo grunted in pain, shocked and furious.
When Outer-Sect Disciples of the Green Mountain Sect roamed the wilderness, they often carried Sword Restraints to help them hunt down Yaoshou and subdue opponents.
Those Sword Restraints were merely the most ordinary magical artifacts, far inferior even to the lowest-grade flying swords.
Why, then, could his Immortal Sword not sever this Sword Restraint?
What in the world was this thing? What material had it been made from?
In a very short time, Uncle-Master Zuo thought of many things, guessing that something was wrong with this Sword Restraint. It was far less ordinary than it appeared.
It might well be a protective treasure bestowed on Zhao Layue by some great figure of the Nine Peaks, perhaps even the Sect Master!
At this thought, Uncle-Master Zuo somewhat regretted not having been careful enough.
But he was neither afraid nor worried.
Even if the Sword Restraint was a treasure, Zhao Layue's realm was too low, and she was gravely wounded. How could she change the final outcome?
"You think you can kill me like this?"
He stared into Zhao Layue's eyes, making no attempt to hide his fury and murderous intent.
The plain gray flying sword returned before him, and he swallowed it in one gulp.
His Sword Pellet vibrated violently. Countless strands of sword intent shot outward from his body like real little swords, holding back the contracting Sword Restraint.
A narrow slit opened in the clouds, and starlight fell on Zhao Layue.
Her disheveled short hair and face were covered in blood, but she did not look ferocious, because her eyes remained as calm as ever. She looked like a young beast preparing for one final struggle.
Her flying sword disabled and her Sword Restraint blocked, what could she do next?
Zhao Layue punched.
She used the Introductory Fist Art.
It was the very fist art the Outer-Sect Disciples at South Pine Pavilion practiced diligently among the pines every day.
This fist art was very ordinary, used only to help Outer-Sect Disciples train in the Youyi Realm.
No one had ever imagined that this fist art would appear in a battle between two swordmasters.
There was nothing special about her fist art. It was simply extremely precise, exactly like the little figures on the pages of the book.
Because it was precise, it was accurate.
More than a dozen punches rained down on Uncle-Master Zuo's body.
Zhao Layue's fists were small, but very hard.
Even the body of a Wuzhang Realm expert, tempered by Sword Gang, could not withstand them completely.
Amid dull smacking sounds, more than a dozen depressions appeared in the gray robe.
Uncle-Master Zuo spat out a mouthful of blood.
Zhao Layue flicked her wrist. The Sword Restraint wound around his neck and pulled him toward the cliff face. Her legs, crossed until now, kicked out like lightning, striking him squarely in the back.
Uncle-Master Zuo spat out another mouthful of blood.
Bracing her feet against his back, Zhao Layue fell backward, pulling the Sword Restraint in her hands taut.
She wanted to use her bodily strength to cut off his head.
The Sword Restraint trembled violently, moving slowly across Uncle-Master Zuo's body with an ear-piercing scraping sound.
"You certainly live up to your name, Zhao Layue. But you cannot kill me like this."
Uncle-Master Zuo spoke between gasps.
The gray flying sword blocked the Sword Restraint at his neck.
Being reduced to such a wretched state by a junior a realm below him made him furious.
But just as he had said, Zhao Layue could not kill him with this alone.
Most of the time, the gulf between realms could not be bridged by courage, ingenuity, or anything else.
Blood flowed ceaselessly from Zhao Layue's body. Because she was exerting herself, it flowed even faster than before.
Her face grew paler and paler, her gaze fainter and fainter.
She knew that the moment she no longer had the strength to hold the Sword Restraint would be the moment death arrived.
Just then, the clouds over the summit parted a little more, and starlight fell.
Looking at the sight before him, Uncle-Master Zuo suddenly froze.
Even with the Sword Restraint at his neck, his gaze was firmly caught.
At some unknown moment, a person had appeared before him.
A White-Clad Youth.
That his gaze could still be drawn away during a life-and-death struggle was naturally not because the White-Clad Youth was too beautiful.
He simply could not understand how this White-Clad Youth had appeared.
Uncle-Master Zuo was astonished, bewildered, and even somewhat panicked.
Before injuring the eagle, he had surveyed the surroundings and confirmed that no one was there.
During the conversation and battle that followed, he had also been certain that there were no sounds around the summit-no breathing, no heartbeats, and naturally no footsteps.
The White-Clad Youth seemed to have appeared out of thin air, yet also seemed to have been standing there all along.
The question was, if he had been standing here by the cliff all along, why had Uncle-Master Zuo not seen him? Why had he not felt even the slightest warning?
To be able to erase his presence completely between heaven and earth-could he be an expert in the Wandering the Wilds Realm?
No, even an expert in the Wandering the Wilds Realm could not do this.
Could he be a ghost?
In an extremely short time, Uncle-Master Zuo considered many things, many possibilities, but could find no answer.
Jing Jiu gave him no more time to think. He raised his hand.
Uncle-Master Zuo sensed immense danger. His pupils contracted sharply, and he tried to move away, but the Sword Restraint and the legs behind him held him fast.
Jing Jiu's hand came down on Uncle-Master Zuo's neck.
A scraping sound rose, harsh and piercing. Sparks flew everywhere, incomparably beautiful.
The entire process was very brief.
Uncle-Master Zuo's scream and the scraping sound stopped abruptly.
There was a soft crack.
Uncle-Master Zuo's head fell like an overripe fruit.
Zhao Layue's face was revealed, and so were her eyes, their black and white as distinct as ever.
Blood gushed from the neck of the headless corpse like fireworks at a grand celebration, like a waterfall rushing toward the sky.
Through a sky filled with brilliant red blossoms of blood, the two looked at each other.
(After finishing this section, I felt a sense of loss and a faint regret... I should have made this their first meeting. Why did I have to indulge my peculiar sense of fun and have Jing Jiu jump straight in front of Zhao Layue to make an appearance... All right, that still had its meaning, but this really was such fun to write. Everyone, remember to cast your recommendation votes.)
Before you continue