Volume One: Chaos in Yan and Yun Chapter Thirty-Eight: In the Name of the Sword (Part Four)

Although the techniques they wielded could already be considered renowned, the two of them were still shallow in their command of elemental energy, so there were no extraordinary celestial phenomena. The dueling platform was split in two by sword energy and wind blades.

Sword energy swept across the sky while wind surged like waves, forming a stark, clear-cut passage on the dueling stage, much like the dividing river on a chessboard—each force coexisting yet entirely separate.

Murong Xue finally understood why Feng Qi stood at the top of the Wind and Cloud Rankings—she was not his equal, and even Du Gu Zhe would be no match for Feng Qi in terms of sheer combat strength.

Recalling her earlier judgment of Feng Qi, Murong Xue couldn’t help but blush with embarrassment.

“If you truly seek the Way, this battle will benefit you greatly. But remember: never lose your heart for the Way. To lose it is a far greater hindrance than lack of talent.” Elder Murong spoke softly from the side.

Murong Xue was momentarily taken aback. “Sixth Granduncle, how did you know about this?”

The common folk speak only of cultivation, but only those who have entered a great sect would use the phrase “seeking the Way.” One refers to methods, the other to purpose.

Elder Murong’s words revealed he already knew of her joining Snowcloud Sect. With the divine empire about to lift the ban, and Snowcloud Sect being one of the two great sects of the age, it was an excellent path. Murong Xue was not afraid of punishment, but being so suddenly exposed left her a little flustered.

“The heir himself told me.” Elder Murong’s voice was gentle. “To refuse a marriage, there must be a reason. The Murong family is no weaker than the Feng family. If he dared break the engagement without a convincing explanation, it would only provoke discontent in the Murong household. The child thought things through quite well, didn’t he?”

Murong Xue retorted indignantly, “How is meddling in my affairs thoughtful?”

Elder Murong replied, “He spoke nothing of your matters. He merely told me he had joined the Snowcloud Sect and could not fulfill the marriage contract. After your duel, he believed you were highly compatible with the main peak’s techniques, and after discussing with you, he realized you, too, sought the Way but were hindered by the family engagement. So he asked me to persuade Qingyun to relinquish the marriage.”

Murong Xue was stunned. “But he told me this was His Majesty’s will—that the engagement couldn’t be broken.”

Elder Murong said, “Circumstances have changed. With the fourth prince’s death, the Feng family must send someone of sufficient status south. If this person speaks to His Majesty on this matter alongside Qingyun, His Majesty will likely not insist.”

Murong Xue was again stupefied. “When did he tell you all this?”

“A few hours ago,” Elder Murong replied.

...

What had happened a few hours ago?

The Princess of Yanbei was attacked, and the King of Yanbei struck back in fury.

The King of Yanbei calmed his wrath; the God of Crafts and the Saint of Medicine joined forces to intercept the Shadow Guard.

Li Jinxing’s closed-door disciple appeared, using cunning to leave both mighty ones gravely wounded and near death.

The Snowcloud Sword and the Wind God Guard arrived at the Stone Forest, followed by a battle outside Shuntian city that shook the heavens, where the three divine guards rescued the Saint of Medicine and the others.

These events were worthy of annals—those scribes of the Free Pavilion could surely pen thousands of words.

But the world was not made of great events alone; many small things unfolded as well.

For instance, Feng Qi slipped into Elder Murong’s inn that night to speak sincerely about breaking the engagement.

And as Feng Yue took away the Saint of Medicine and others, he casually drew half a jug of blood from the Saint and the Princess of Yanbei.

“That wasn’t Master Yang’s plan,” the Shadow Guard muttered in frustration.

...

“What else could we do?” Feng Yue replied indifferently. “If Uncle Shouli hadn’t happened to come to Yanbei, we might not have made it out alive, let alone taken the Saint of Medicine and the others.”

“The Saint of Medicine is one thing, but according to Master Yang’s plan, Qi Luozhu must be taken at all costs,” the Shadow Guard insisted.

“Then you could always try going back to Yanbei and, before the three divine guards and the Wind and Sand Formation, attempt to snatch Qi Luozhu by force,” Feng Yue retorted sharply. “Maybe you’ll be remembered for generations—a legendary fool!”

As the two argued, Li Shouli suddenly glanced back at Feng Yue.

The Shadow Guard was puzzled—why would Li Shouli care about such a trivial matter?

He didn’t notice Feng Yue shaking his head slowly.

Thus, he missed the reason why Li Shouli turned away again, and whispered, “Where are we headed now? Will we see Master Yang... or that one?”

That one? Who else but Li Jinxing.

Feng Yue raised a brow, nearly amused.

But he didn’t laugh in the end, only sighed, “Of course not. As for your task, you did well enough; Senior Brother won’t blame you for this.”

Only then did the Shadow Guard recall that this youth, two centuries his junior, was actually his martial uncle. Remembering his earlier retorts and imagining Master Yang’s reaction, he grew uneasy.

Noticing his thoughts, Feng Yue waved a hand. “It’s nothing. You may not have thought everything through, but your strength is what matters. I’ll tell Senior Brother to let you oversee a branch hall.”

There were no organizations divided into halls, at least none listed by the Free Pavilion.

Yet the Shadow Guard seemed honored, bowing slightly to Feng Yue.

Were the flying sword not so high and fast, he might have been even more deferential.

...

The clash of wind blades and sword energy continued, and the passage between them, once wide enough for a person, thinned to a hair’s breadth, the former dividing line now as fragile as paper.

At that moment, a black dot appeared on the paper.

The Wind God Guard raised an eyebrow, recognizing the tip of a spear.

If used to pierce through, it might just succeed.

Indeed, Feng Qi did succeed.

The Overlord Spear tore through the barrier, drawing an earthen-yellow arc toward the Wind God Guard.

“Furious Dragon’s Quake? Impressive power, but that’s its limit.” The Wind God Guard didn’t so much as lift an eyelid. With a flick of his sleeve, several wind blades struck out, each shifting the spear’s course. The Overlord Spear passed half an inch from him, embedding itself in the platform behind.

The dueling platform shuddered.

The dividing line vanished.

No one was across from him.

The Wind God Guard raised his brow, finding the scene rather interesting.

He could not locate Feng Qi’s presence—indeed, intriguing.

The platform’s tremors grew stronger.

Suddenly, the Wind God Guard darted aside, just as a blade of light shot upward from below, piercing the sky—had he remained, he might have lost the match.

“So he was underground...” the Wind God Guard chuckled softly.

Sure enough, the next moment, Feng Qi burst from the ground.

He grinned at the Wind God Guard.

A sense of foreboding rose in the Wind God Guard’s heart, though he could see Feng Qi was nearly spent, his elemental energy all but gone, yet still in better shape than himself.

At the Mixed Yuan stage, flight was impossible.

The Wind God Guard began to descend slowly.

Feng Qi whistled, then suddenly hugged his head and dropped prone.

The Wind God Guard paused, recognizing something oddly familiar in that whistle.

In the next instant, a piercing cry split the air. A black shadow streaked toward them at speed, and the Wind God Guard’s sense of unease intensified.

A hero would never stoop to such shamelessness, he thought silently.

Many in the crowd shared his sentiment.

Except for Xue Wuhen and Feng Muyun.

From the moment Feng Qi lured the Wind God Guard high into the air, Feng Muyun’s expression had darkened.

From the moment Feng Qi whistled, Xue Wuhen’s face grew grim.

They knew Feng Qi’s fighting style better than anyone.

He was no hero, cared nothing for orthodoxy—when victory was at stake, nothing was forbidden.

Sure enough, the black shadow did not strike the Wind God Guard directly, but whipped up a violent gale at his side.

The wind roared. The Wind God Guard frowned, but allowed himself to be swept from the arena.

He looked at Feng Qi, who was smiling at him from the stage, at a loss for words.

Many present were speechless—even the Sword and Blade God Guards.

“This... is a bit too shameless, isn’t it?” someone muttered.

It was Murong Xue.

...