Chapter 469: Are You Truly a Master
Chapter 469: Are You Truly a Master
Every sword strike seemed meticulously measured, with perfect coordination from every angle—some attacking, some blocking, some assisting, some disrupting—forming a complex sword formation. It was more precise than any traditional combat formation honed through years of practice.
The main attacker was Lan Wujiang.
His injuries had healed, and his swordsmanship seemed to have improved. As his sword thrust upward, Zhao Changhe felt the biting cold of snow-capped peaks, a chill that penetrated to the bone.
It was no longer just Lan Wujiang’s own sword art—what he had come to use now was mostly Shi Wuding’s sword art.
Yet Zhao Changhe paid it no mind.
Is that all?
With a loud clang, he cleaved right into the heart of the sword net.
Violent waves of bloodthirsty saber energy rippled out in all directions, forcing several sword slaves to retreat with muffled groans. At the forefront, Lan Wujiang’s sword was shattered, and he staggered back in shock.
Zhao Changhe’s strength was terrifying!
He broke into the formation, grabbed Han Wubing, and said, “Let’s go!”
Half-conscious, Han Wubing muttered as Zhao Changhe supported him, “Honestly, I’d suggest you keep your distance from me. I suspect I might be the one to stab you when the time comes.”
Zhao Changhe understood the risk, but what came out of his mouth was “Cut the crap.”
Lan Wujiang had already gotten a new sword and was charging forward again. Around them, the sword shadows multiplied, trapping Zhao Changhe and Han Wubing on the spot.
“Thirty-seventh on the Ranking of Man, Blood Asura Zhao Changhe...” Lan Wujiang clearly did not recognize that this was the same person he had fought recently under the alias of Si Laoye. He spoke indifferently, “We’ve known for a while that you were in Miaojiang. Did you really think we would be unprepared for you? We didn’t bring so many people out for Han Wubing, but for you.”
“I’m honored,” Zhao Changhe replied without a second thought. With Han Wubing propped up in his left arm, he flipped his right hand, and the gleam of his saber flashed through the air.
Blood surged like waves, and snowflakes swirled in the air, all transforming into saber light. The surrounding sword slaves felt their blood and energy surge within their bodies, as if they were on the verge of exploding.
Bloodied Mountains and Rivers!
This time, Bloodied Mountains and Rivers was subtly different from before.
After practicing sword arts for so long, Zhao Changhe’s various styles had begun to merge and complement each other. In this moment, the bloodthirsty saber intent shared many similarities with the sword light technique resembling water that he had learned before. One was violent, the other refined, but both could reinforce each other, pushing their strengths to new heights.
The snowflakes seemed to come to life, dancing gracefully. As the sword slaves tried to dodge, the snowflakes cleverly pursued them with a slight delay, moving with deadly precision.
Screams erupted simultaneously as blood splattered all around. With just one strike, all the sword slaves fell.
“Excellent saber art!” Blue light flickered as Lan Wujiang thrust his sword toward Zhao Changhe’s throat, blocking his path of escape.
Zhao Changhe tilted his saber upward. The rain of blood suddenly paused, and the snowflakes became gentle.
Space and time seemed to slow down, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. The only thing left was the cold glint of the saber in the dark night as it sliced across Lan Wujiang’s throat.
Listening to the Spring Rain in a Little Pavilion at Night.
Clang!
To Zhao Changhe’s surprise, the saber strike, which had never failed before, was blocked by Lan Wujiang.
After all, this was not just Lan Wujiang alone.
But Zhao Changhe had expected this. As Lan Wujiang blocked the strike and shifted his stance slightly, Zhao Changhe took advantage of the moment to drag Han Wubing with him and sidestep Lan Wujiang, slipping past him. At the same time, he swung his blade backward, slashing again toward Lan Wujiang’s neck.
Lan Wujiang had no choice but to block the strike again, and in that moment, Zhao Changhe seized the opportunity. He dashed away with Han Wubing, disappearing into the darkness.
The sound of wind rose behind them. The sword slaves, who had seemingly been cut down moments ago, were once again in pursuit.
Zhao Changhe did not even look back. It was all within his expectations.
Why did the aftermath of the battle with Maitreya lead him here? Because there were obvious similarities... controlling corpses and controlling sword slaves—what was the difference?
While they were different on the surface, they were fundamentally the same. These sword slaves were already dead. If you wanted to kill them again, their weak points would not be their throats—you would have to look for a different way.
Zhao Changhe could only hope that Han Wubing, raised by the sect from an early age rather than captured and enslaved, was still actually living.
He dragged Han Wubing along, seemingly fleeing into the mountain forest. But in truth, he found a dense thicket, shoved Han Wubing into it to hide, and pulled out a piece of clothing from his ring, draping it over his left arm to give the illusion that he was still supporting someone. Then he quickly climbed a tree.
The pursuing Lan Wujiang and his men, unable to see clearly in the dark, followed the movement and leaped into the trees as well. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Standing on a thick tree branch, Zhao Changhe coldly watched Lan Wujiang rush forward. His arms had doubled in size without anyone being any the wiser.
Roar!
Dragon Bird came chopping down from above with a sky-splitting strike!
Zhao Changhe had stable footing on the tree, but Lan Wujiang did not. Coupled with the enhancement from No Man’s Land, Zhao Changhe’s Blood Asura Body surged with overwhelming force, and the difference in power became insurmountable.
Lan Wujiang felt as if Mount Tai were collapsing on top of him. He could not even tell if the weapon coming down was a saber or a mace. Getting hit on the head with it would turn his skull into a watermelon, whether the blade was sharp or not.
Fortunately, Lan Wujiang had anticipated this. His movement was precise, and he twisted midair, attempting to step onto a nearby branch to maneuver around for another strike.
As long as he could entangle Zhao Changhe for a moment, the surrounding sword slaves would swarm Zhao Changhe and pepper him with attacks. Standing on the tree branch, Zhao Changhe would be nothing more than a sitting duck.
But just as Lan Wujiang was about to maneuver in midair, a powerful shout came from above, “Get back here!”
Lan Wujiang suddenly found the voice familiar. Before he could react, it felt as if an immense force was pulling him back. Though it did not drag him completely, it was enough to freeze his movement mid-spin, preventing him from finishing his maneuver!
Crane Controlling Art!
How is his left hand free? And how did he predict my movements? Has he fought me before?
There was no time to think—Zhao Changhe’s massive saber was already descending upon him.
Lan Wujiang was terrified to the core and raised his sword in a desperate attempt to block the attack.
But once a sword loses its agility and clashes directly with a heavy broad saber, the outcome is inevitable. The result would not merely be the sword being shaken or bent.
The sword would shatter, and its wielder would be sent to the underworld.
With a crisp sound, Lan Wujiang’s longsword broke in two, and Zhao Changhe’s saber cleaved his skull in half.
A streak of blood-red sword qi whistled out from Lan Wujiang’s brain, and his lifeless body collapsed heavily to the ground. He was dead beyond any doubt.
“Not that impressive... In matters of life and death, he’s far inferior to the corpse demons. But there may be further complications,” Zhao Changhe muttered as he briefly glanced at the dispersing sword qi. He did not have time to pursue it—many sword slaves were already upon him, and one strand of sword qi had even grazed his right arm as he decapitated Lan Wujiang.
With a powerful kick off the branch, Zhao Changhe leaped backward, retreating into the air. As he flew, an arrow appeared in his hand, and he flung it like a throwing weapon.
Thuck!
The arrow found its mark, piercing the eye of the nearest sword slave.
The sword slave screamed in agony and collapsed, rolling on the ground while clutching its eye. Remarkably, it still seemed to feel pain...
With a light tap on another tree, Zhao Changhe propelled himself further away.
I can’t stay here. If I keep fighting, Shi Wuding will arrive...
He hoped that the sword slaves’ pursuit would distract Shi Wuding from Han Wubing, who was hidden in the thicket. If he could draw them away, that would be ideal.
But Zhao Changhe could not shake the worry gnawing at him. This plan felt unreliable, and he felt that there was a good chance that Shi Wuding could sense where Han Wubing was...
Still, there was no other choice. He could not carry Han Wubing into battle. His only hope was that once Han Wubing left the “domain” of the snow mountain, he might regain consciousness and awaken during this time.
As Zhao Changhe fled, a flash of sword light suddenly shot through the sky.
Zhao Changhe looked up. In the full moon above, swirling snow gathered, forming what seemed to be the sharpest sword, piercing through the moon.
Transforming snow into steel!
A true master of the sword had appeared. No longer engaged in the superficial exchange of strikes with Wang Daozhong, Shi Wuding revealed the true power of the sixth on the Ranking of Earth, showcasing his full strength!
An overwhelming and almost unstoppable killing intent surged from behind Zhao Changhe, accompanied by Shi Wuding’s cold voice. “Your loyalty is admirable, but this is where it ends...”
“Is that so?” Zhao Changhe stomped hard on the tree trunk ahead of him, snapping it in half despite it being as thick as a person’s thigh.
Using the recoil, Zhao Changhe gripped his saber with both hands, rushing forward to meet the incoming sword light head-on without a shred of hesitation.
The sword slaves, who still retained some awareness, looked up at the scene. It was like watching a moth fling itself into a raging fire—a contest between forces so far apart in strength they could not even be talked about in the same sentence.
Yet Zhao Changhe did not waver. At that moment, he even forgot that he had enlisted the help of the Thief Saint.
It was just him and Dragon Bird.
“Sixth on the Ranking of Earth, greatest sword master of the world... yet you lack courage and you rely on others to fight your battles. You wield a sword from the shadows with no sense of honor. You are Wuding, hesitant and scheming[1]. Are you truly a master?! Break for me!”
A massive crescent saber qi slashed upward, aimed directly at the terrifying sword energy in the sky.
BOOM!!!
The collision echoed like thunder, shaking the heavens, obscuring the sky with dark clouds, and dimming the stars and the moon.
The sword energy dissipated, revealing Shi Wuding’s astonished face.
Before him stood Zhao Changhe, eyes resolute. Although blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his hands trembled as they gripped the Dragon Bird, he had blocked the attack.
It was an attack from someone ranked sixth on the Ranking of Earth, even when making use of the power of a divine weapon. It should not have been something that Zhao Changhe could withstand.
But he had.
Just as Shi Wuding was about to speak, his expression suddenly changed: “Who is attacking the sword formation?”
Zhao Changhe grinned.
You all knew that I might show up here, but did you really forget about Yue Hongling?
1. Wuding (无定), which is Shi Wuding’s given name, means indeterminate or indefinite. ☜