An uncontrollable state of mind is always an immature one.
Through relentless training and near-cruel perseverance, bolstered by the power of the world itself, Fengyun Wuji had finally stabilized his Sword Emperor realm. Now, his control over it was fluid and instinctive.
From all directions, thousands of Ascended cultivators surged toward him, each brandishing a longsword with radiant sword-light gleaming several inches beyond the blade—an awe-inspiring sight. On the other side, Leng Ruoshuang stood trembling, her lips tinged purple, barely staying upright.
"Get lost!" Fengyun Wuji's roar exploded across the field. An invisible, overwhelming force spread out with a thunderous ripple. The thousands of incoming swords halted mid-air—and the cultivators, blades and all, were hurled backward by an unseen power, crashing away like leaves in a storm.
He had partially released the restraints on his Sword Emperor domain, unleashing an aura so powerful it made the hearts of all nearby tremble. A resonant hum of swords echoed through the air. Members of the Muzi Sword Sect were horrified to find their swords trembling in their hands, on the verge of breaking free.
Amid this crushing pressure, a glint of vicious intent flashed through Xiang Jue's eyes. Discarding his sword, he thrust his hand forward, fingers forming a blade, aiming straight for Leng Ruoshuang's chest. In that moment, his hand transformed into a sword itself, gleaming with a metallic luster.
"The Sword Demon's Hand-Blade Technique!" Fengyun Wuji instantly recognized the deadly move. Just as Xiang Jue's hand was about to pierce Leng Ruoshuang's heart, Wuji let out a furious roar. His robe billowed as his right hand struck forth like a phantom from the netherworld.
A terrible scream followed.
Xiang Jue was launched sideways, as if smashed by a massive hammer, just feet from his target. Mid-air, his gray robe disintegrated into countless threads, which in turn split again until they dissolved into drifting filaments.
Exposed beneath the tattered robes, his chest was crisscrossed with countless fine lines of blood, forming a web of wounds. A series of soft ripping sounds followed. The cuts widened rapidly into horrifying gashes, flesh curling outward as blood jetted in fine threads from the torn web of skin.
Boom!
Xiang Jue slammed into a wall at the edge of the inner courtyard, blasting open a massive hole. When he finally hit the ground, he was a blood-soaked wreck, riddled with deep sword wounds, howling in agony as he writhed in the dirt.
Fengyun Wuji swayed slightly as he moved to stand between Leng Ruoshuang and the stunned Muzi Sword Sect cultivators, whose thousands of Ascended-level warriors still hadn't recovered from the shocking turn of events.
He stomped the ground. Sword energy erupted from beneath his feet like a torrent, forcing the cultivators to retreat dozens of paces. He scooped up Leng Ruoshuang, only to find her condition worse than he feared. One glance at her pallor, and Wuji knew—she had been poisoned. But the poison's brutality and strangeness... it was nothing of this world.
His true essence surged into her body, shielding her heart and brain. Thankfully, her own cultivation was profound, and the poison hadn't yet reached her vitals.
"M-Master Ancestor... the tea... Xiang Jue gave me... in the tea..." Her lips trembled as she spoke, green veins surfacing near her eyes.
Though Fengyun Wuji poured more of his energy into her, the strange poison refused to yield. She slumped unconscious in his arms. Rage blazed in Wuji's heart like a wildfire. He had vowed never again to watch his disciples die before him.
He wanted nothing more than to slaughter everyone in front of him. But he couldn't. These were thousands of Ascended cultivators, many with old ties to him—he couldn't indiscriminately massacre them all. Besides, it was clear that Xiang Jue had used the Sect Master's token to forcibly command them.
At that moment, a desperate voice called out from behind.
"Senior! Save me! If you don't help now, I'm dead!" It was He Lian Nanshan, sprinting toward him with a Muzi Sect disciple in a chokehold and a sword in the other hand. Behind him surged a furious horde of Muzi disciples.
If not for his quick wits—using the disciple as a shield—he would've died already.
"Kill him! He dares impersonate a Supreme Elder! And conspires with this traitor who disguised himself as our Sect Master! He's trying to seize the Muzi Sword Sect for himself!" Xiang Jue, shockingly, rose to his feet, somehow summoning the strength to shout a full accusation.
"Sect Master!" the pursuing disciples cried out at the sight of his bloody, broken form. Half of them immediately turned and lunged toward Fengyun Wuji, while the rest continued chasing Shen Tu Mojun.
A cold hmph like a blade through bone cut through the air, freezing hearts in its wake.
Facing the furious Muzi Sect disciples, Fengyun Wuji calmly raised one hand and pressed an open palm toward them. A wave of invisible force surged outward. Like wheat before the scythe, the crowd collapsed in an arc, flung backwards in waves. A simple twist of his wrist, and the agonized screams followed—tens of thousands of disciples scattered like ragdolls, landing in heaps across the courtyard.
It was a show of dominance—not lethal, but more than enough to leave them too shocked to rise.
"Why aren't you attacking?!" Xiang Jue howled at the Ascended cultivators nearby. Though all of them outranked him, he held the founding ancestor's command seal—forcing their obedience.
Fengyun Wuji turned, his gaze like a frozen blade. The murderous intent in his eyes made Xiang Jue instinctively retreat, step by step.
Wuji formed a sword seal with his right hand. A sharp, rising hum echoed through the air. To everyone's horror, their swords leapt from their hands, shooting skyward.
A wave of icy fear swept through the crowd. All eyes turned to the sky, where tens of thousands of swords spiraled upward, arranged in precise helix patterns. Gasps filled the air.
Under Wuji's control, the spiraling formation hummed with resonant sword cries. Then, with a gesture, the blades plummeted—sword-lights flashing like stars falling from heaven.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Sword after sword crashed down around Xiang Jue, creating a torrential downpour of deadly light. It looked as if the heavens themselves were raining swords. In that instant, Xiang Jue screamed in his heart, "I'm dead!" and closed his eyes in despair.
Silence followed.
When Xiang Jue opened his eyes, his vision was overwhelmed by light. The swords had landed in rings around him, spiraling outward like a massive Taiji symbol.
In a corner, the edge of a robe vanished into the shadows. Overhead, Wuji's voice echoed down, cold and sharp:
"You live—for now. If Ruoshuang dies, you all die. If she survives, he will come himself to claim this sect."
Xiang Jue shuddered violently. Despair filled his heart.
Was this... even something a human could do?