Shriek!
Just as Fengyun Wuji was on the verge of despair, a black hawk dove from the clouds above. With a powerful sweep of its wings, it stirred up a fierce wind that forced everyone to stagger backward.
"Wuji, don't panic!" A sharp, wiry figure descended from the sky like a great bird. "This old man, Dugu Wushang, is here! Who dares speak of destroying the Sword Domain? I'll destroy them first!"
The moment he appeared, an eerie sensation swept over the crowd—it felt as if an invisible sword pierced straight into their hearts. No matter how they tried to defend themselves, they couldn't evade it. In the blink of an eye, they had already fallen before the unseen sword. A crushing sense of helplessness overwhelmed them.
The black hawk circled low overhead, its piercing gaze fixed on the crowd below. Dugu Wushang's robes fluttered as he landed beside Fengyun Wuji. The hawk hovered protectively above the two, shrieking without pause.
Though it was just one man and one bird, the aura they exuded was no less intimidating than that of an elite army.
The youth from the Blade Domain, sensing the shaken morale of his comrades, suddenly barked, "Dugu Wushang? Never heard of him!"
Dugu Wushang rested a hand on Fengyun Wuji's blood-soaked shoulder. His expression shifted slightly as he channeled his vast and steady sword essence into Wuji's body, healing him while turning his head toward the youth with a calm smile.
"People call me the Sword Demon—Dugu Wushang. If you haven't heard of me before, then remember this name today."
"Whoever wants to lay a hand on the Sword Domain will have to deal with me first!" His tone turned grave, eyes gleaming with solemn intensity.
"Who cares what Sword Demon you are!" the youth spat. "Blade Domain warriors, listen up! By the domain lord's decree, none from the Sword Domain shall survive today! Attack!"
With a roar, he brandished his saber and led the charge.
"Back off!" Dugu Wushang's expression hardened as he spoke coldly. He didn't appear to make any move, yet his right hand swiftly formed a sword seal, and with a wave of his sleeve, he sent out an ethereal slash.
Boom!
The youth's saber had not even fallen when he let out a muffled grunt, as though struck by a celestial hammer. He flipped backward violently, tumbling through the air and crashing down. The row of warriors behind him were also swept away by an invisible yet overwhelming force, screaming as they flew back. Those further behind were halted in their tracks by a domineering sword intent, forced to muster all their blade energy just to resist.
"Young master!" The Blade Domain disciples cried out in shock, rushing to help the youth who now knelt on the ground. But he growled, "Get lost! All of you—get away from me!"
He propped himself up with one hand, struggling to rise. Suddenly, his face went pale, all color draining as his eyes widened in horror at Dugu Wushang.
"Such arrogance upon first meeting…" Dugu Wushang said coolly. "Out of respect for your youth, I'll spare your name this once. Don't count on it again."
As he finished, a trickle of blood ran down the youth's lips. He glared at Dugu Wushang with deep, burning hatred.
In the shadows, the Dark Domain Demon Lord wiped a cold sweat from his brow. He knew this youth—known as Jun Zilan, the only son of the Blade Emperor himself. Favored and pampered, yes—but also formidable in his own right. While not vastly stronger than the Demon Lord himself, he had been utterly crushed in a single exchange. Worse still, the one who defeated him—Dugu Wushang—looked completely unbothered.
The Demon Lord shivered. If the Sword Emperor was already difficult to face, what hope was there against someone even stronger—this so-called Sword Demon?
He glanced at the still-bleeding Fengyun Wuji, who now sat with closed eyes, tendrils of white energy rising gently from his head. He was clearly using Dugu Wushang's energy to heal himself.
"Jun Zilan!" the Demon Lord roared. "Forget the grudge between our domains—deal with the old man first! He's buying time for the Sword Emperor to recover!"
Jun Zilan shot him a venomous look, the meaning in his eyes unmistakable: You think I don't know that already?
Too weak to even stand, Jun Zilan reached into his mouth and bit down on something. Then, throwing his head back, he unleashed a high-pitched howl that pierced the skies. With a flick of his wrist, he spat the object back out and shouted, "Attack! They're just newly ascended! One old relic doesn't change anything. We'll bury him with numbers if we have to!"
The Demon Lord grinned darkly. "All units, move in! Target everyone—strike together!"
In the blink of an eye, waves of saber energy exploded from one side, while a tsunami of demonic force surged from the other. One was a tide of silver blades; the other a black flood of malevolent might. Tens of thousands of warriors attacked as one, a devastating power even the Demon Lord hadn't anticipated.
Fierce winds slammed against them. The Sword Pavilion disciples, already bracing for death, shut their eyes in resignation. In a duel of skill, they might stand a chance—but against this kind of raw force, it was sheer cultivation that mattered. Years of bitter training would be the only shield.
Dugu Wushang remained calm, not a trace of panic on his face. He withdrew his left hand from Wuji's shoulder.
"Nine Swords of Dugu—Form Break: Blade Severing, Demon Piercing."
With a flick of his wrist, a small two-foot wooden sword appeared in his hand. He moved lightly, sweeping it once to each side. Then, casually, he sheathed it at his waist.
Hiss—hiss!
Just as the twin tides of destruction were about to engulf the Sword Pavilion, they suddenly evaporated—like smoke blown away by the wind. Not a trace remained, as if they had never been.
Gasp!
Everyone who witnessed the scene sucked in a breath, stunned. They stared at the old man, a chill creeping up their spines.
"If you didn't show up soon, old man, I'd be dead already!" Jun Zilan screamed hysterically into the sky. Panic had replaced arrogance. For the first time, he truly felt the terror of facing someone on a higher plane of martial mastery.
"Don't be afraid, my son. Your father is here..." A thunderous voice echoed from the sky. A powerful aura rapidly approached. Dugu Wushang raised his head, eyes darkening with caution.
"Wuji," he murmured, "I fear we're in real trouble now…"
A man in white robes slowly descended from the clouds above. All the Blade Domain disciples immediately bowed low.
"Hail the Blade Emperor!"
The man's gaze was like lightning. With one look, he locked eyes with Dugu Wushang. His expression turned grave.
"The Sword Demon—Dugu Wushang."
"The Blade Emperor—Jun Bupo," Dugu Wushang replied solemnly. Sparks seemed to fly between their gazes.
Jun Zilan's face twisted. "You two know each other?!"
The Blade Emperor nodded heavily. "I never expected it to be you. I truly don't wish to cross blades with you."
"Nor I, with you…" Dugu Wushang answered quietly.