“Mr. Chen, had you figured out where the Immortal Sword is now?”
“In Jianghu.”
Chen Changsheng looked towards the distance and couldn’t help but sigh. “Got to make a trip.”
He felt a bit helpless inside. He had been dead for so long and only revived for a few days, yet things like this still troubled him.
“Is it far away?” the Old City God asked.
Chen Changsheng said, “Near in a way, but it hasn’t left Great Jing. It’s in the Northern Frontier of Great Jing, at the Frontier Pass. Should get there in a few hours.”
“Half a day!”
The Old City God was surprised at first. But then he thought again and understood. Who was this gentleman? A thousand miles ant nothing to him. Great Jing probably seed like a small place in his eyes.
Chen Changsheng said, “This sword is not ordinary. I ought to get it back soon.”
“I’ll send you off.”
“Don’t bother.”
Chen Changsheng held a hair thread in his hand, recited a spell, and a Golden Light covered him.
“Wait until I bring the sword back, then we’ll chat more.” ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novｅlfire
After those words fell, Chen Changsheng’s figure turned into a Golden Light and flew into the sky. He vanished from the Old City God’s sight in just a blink.
The Old City God was stunned inside, staring at the empty sky. “So it’s true,” he murmured.
The Celestial Immortal could travel without using his feet.
Chen Changsheng walked with his hands behind his back, high up in the sky.
In a blink, he left Anning County. Looking down, he could see big rivers and mountains.
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This was the first ti he had seen the shape of this land, he thought. Mountains and clouds overlapped, forests and snow matched. All of it looked very beautiful.
Chen Changsheng looked towards the Northern Frontier of Great Jing. At that Frontier Pass, Baleful Aura mixed with Death Qi. Wandering Spirits of dead soldiers fell there. Over ti, a place of battle ford.
Around two hours had passed.
Chen Changsheng paused mid-air. He lifted his hand and calculated for a bit. Then he turned his eyes toward the northwest.
In the desert hundreds of miles away, a Martial Artist with cloth wrapped around his face carried a Sword Case on his back as he walked over the sand dunes.
His lips were dry and cracked, but his gaze was sharp and fierce, like an eagle’s eye staring down at the desert.
The heavy Sword Case made each step sink deep into the sand. When he lifted his foot, it kicked up dust. Left behind were deep footprints on the desert.
Yan Bei’an put down the Sword Case.
“Thud.”
The sword inside made a clanging sound as it sunk into the sand.
He breathed out in relief, sat down cross-legged, and took a water bag from his waist. He poured a tiny sip into his mouth.
Yan Bei’an looked far ahead. A bit of peace cald his heart. The harsh hot wind on the desert seed to stop for him.
He put the stopper back on the water bag and got ready to keep moving after a short rest.
But Yan Bei’an suddenly paused.
“Huh?”
One hand pressed on the Sword Case as he stared into the distance.
Across the sand dune, a man in a blue robe walked forward slowly.
His steps were light and gentle, as if floating over the dunes. Not a single mark was left behind.
Yan Bei’an’s face turned grim.
“A master…”
He shifted the Sword Case beside him and stayed alert.
A mont later.
Chen Changsheng ca before the Martial Artist. “A Jianghu Swordsman?” he asked.
Yan Bei’an looked at the man in the blue robe. He found it strange. Soone this clean and tidy wouldn’t appear in the desert.
It was as if he showed up out of nowhere.
“Just a Swordsman,” YanBei’an said.
Chen Changsheng said, “Out of Jianghu?”
“That’s right,” YanBei’an nodded.
Chen Changsheng glanced at the hand resting on the Sword Case.
YanBei’an saw that look. “You here for the Ten Directions Sword Case?”
Chen Changsheng pointed to the Sword Case. “There is a sword inside that belongs to .”
YanBei’an kept calm, as if used to this. “Others who tried to take it died by my sword. If you’re here for it, be ready to et your end.”
Chen Changsheng paused at those words. “I only ca to ask back for my sword. You actually want to kill?”
“No more talk.”
YanBei’an raised a hand and slapped the Sword Case.
“Boom.”
Dust flew off the Sword Case. Then, a series of clicking noises followed.
The Sword Case opened like a fan along its middle axis. On each side, four swords stood upright. Each gave off a cold air and looked special.
Chen Changsheng felt startled inside and frowned. “Are you sick?”
YanBei’an cried out, “Chunqiu!”
With that sound, an ancient bronze sword from the left side of the Sword Case flew out.
The Flying Sword hovered in mid-air. It darted like a bird before Chen Changsheng’s eyes.
Chen Changsheng frowned again and studied YanBei’an more closely.
A flicker of Golden Light passed through his eyes.
He saw no trace of Magical Power in YanBei’an. Instead, Liu Ya was filled with Blood Qi—truly a Martial Artist.
But if he was a Martial Artist, how could he control a Flying Sword?
That seed impossible.
“Buzz.”
The Flying Sword shot straight at his face.
Chen Changsheng didn’t dodge or move. It looked like he was thinking about sothing.
YanBei’an’s brow furrowed. Why wasn’t this man dodging? he thought.
Yet the next mont, the gentleman seed to snap back to himself and raised his head.
The Chunqiu sword stopped less than an inch from Chen Changsheng.
The sword blade trembled lightly, letting out a soft hum as if resisting.
YanBei’an’s frown deepened. He realized the Chunqiu sword had slipped from his control.
Chen Changsheng reached out and grabbed the Chunqiu sword.
He took it to inspect it.
Inside the sword, he detected a pulse of Magical Power. That faint Magical Power felt very familiar to Chen Changsheng.
Wasn’t it the sa Magical Power that was in his hair?
Chen Changsheng looked back at the Sword Case. At once, he understood why this man could drive the Flying Sword.
“So that’s how it is…”
YanBei’an gave up on Chunqiu and lifted two fingers.
“Qiu Dong!”
“Du Jiang!”
“Zhu Yu!”
One sword for trapping and killing in snow, one for fierce waves on rivers, one for loneliness.
Three swords flew out together, leaving the Sword Case half empty.
Under YanBei’an’s control, the three Flying Swords charged at Chen Changsheng.
But again, things surprised YanBei’an.
The man raised his hand gently, and all three Flying Swords lost control instantly.
YanBei’an suddenly felt dizzy and staggered.
He steadied himself and gasped deeply.
Chen Changsheng pushed aside the three swords one by one and looked at YanBei’an. “Keep going.”
Now YanBei’an panicked a bit. He had never t anyone who could break through the Ten Directions Sword Case.
Who was this person?
YanBei’an took a deep breath and smacked the Sword Case. Bloodshot veins appeared in his eyes. He shouted, “Flood Dragon!”
From the Sword Case, a sword with scales like a dragon slowly drew out.
It humd and humd!
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