At this mont, he was the sword, and the sword was him, as if the human and the blade had united as one. Exuding a sharpness that could cut through anything.
Rock. Steel. Flesh. Even the air itself seed to tremble under its edge.
This was the will of a swordsman.
The beginning of Sword Intent.
Not a technique or move, but a realisation.
A ticket.
To reach the peak on the path of swordsmanship.
Back to the fight scene.
Su Mo’s eyes locked onto the incoming daggers. He could have stopped them with his magnetic control, but he didn’t, as he intended to try sothing different.
He moved.
Just once.
A simple swing of the black sword in his hand.
Shiing—!
The sound was soft. Almost too soft.
For a mont, nothing seed to happen.
Then—
Clink. Clink. Clink.
The flying daggers split apart mid-air.
Each one was cleanly severed into two.
No sparks or any sign of resistance.
They fell to the ground one after another, their montum gone. The cuts were smooth.
It looked effortless. Like slicing through butter.
From the mont Wu Chaochang gave the signal... to Su Mo swinging his sword, barely a breath had passed.
Yet everything had changed.
The red-robed figures froze for a fraction of a second, their pupils shrinking. Even their formation faltered at the display of such skill.
Wu Chaochang’s expression shifted.
The dismissive, bloodthirsty smile on his face slowly disappeared.
For the first ti, he looked at the old man in front of him seriously.
"...Interesting."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"I underestimated you."
This was not what he had expected.
An Outer Elder... capable of this?
No, this was beyond ordinary.
Although he didn’t recognise the Sword Intent. He could also see that the old man was very skilled in swordsmanship.
Wu Chaochang’s gaze grew colder.
So, this old man wasn’t as simple as he appeared.
Still, it didn’t matter.
A slight sneer returned to his lips.
In the end, the cultivation level was the absolute deciding factor in a battle.
No matter how refined one’s technique was, it could not completely erase the gap in strength. As long as his own cultivation surpassed the opponent’s by a significant margin, victory was only inevitable.
And from what he could sense, this "Outer Elder" was only at Qi Condensation Level Four.
At most, he was compensating for his lack of cultivation level with superior swordsmanship.
That alone... was not enough to threaten him.
Wu Chaochang’s killing intent settled once more.
But this ti, there was caution in it. Though only slightly.
"Keep the attack going. The opponent is just a level 4. Finish him quickly."
Upon hearing Wu Chaochang’s words, their wariness of Su Mo’s display of strength disappeared.
’Level 4? They have killed many.’
Instantly, their confidence soared, and they attacked him again.
Su Mo once again swung his blade, easily chopping the flying daggers and said, "How many more of these toys do you have? Bring them together."
"Damn it!"
Yes, his provocative words completely enraged them.
"This guy is so arrogant!"
Number Three frowned and said, "Four, Five, work together with to engage with him in close combat and keep him occupied. Don’t let him use his strange swordsmanship."
"Others find the gaps and do ranged attacks."
"Yes, sir." They shouted and instantly prepared to execute the plan.
Wu Chaochang glanced at number three and gave an appreciative smile.
As expected of soone who followed him for so long. Too bad his strength is not up to standard.
When he thought of the teorite in his possession, his mood improved.
It doesn’t matter; after today, everything will change.
Su Mo didn’t finish them, taking the opportunity. Instead, he waited patiently and joked.
"Is this sothing I should be listening to? You guys are making battle plans right in front of ? Don’t tell you consider one of yours. I reject."
"Let cut his mouth after we finish this talkative old man." Number 4 sneered in a grim tone.
"Enough, talk, let’s attack." Number 3 said.
The mont his words fell, the red-robed figures moved simultaneously, their coordination sharp and precise. Number 3 and Number 4 stepped forward first, their feet stomping the ground with a heavy thud, spiritual energy surging through their bodies.
Number 3’s fist shot forward, tearing through the air with a deep whooom.
"Moon Breaking Fist!"
The strike aid straight at Su Mo’s chest, carrying explosive force.
At the sa ti, Number Four swept in from the side, his leg cutting through the air with a sharp whoosh.
"Crescent Split Kick!"
The two attacks arrived in perfect coordination, one from the front and one from the flank.
Su Mo did not retreat. Instead, he stepped forward.
The black sword in his hand moved in a simple arc.
Clang!
The blade collided with Number Three’s fist, a tallic sound ringing out as a shockwave burst forth—boom!—kicking up dust and causing nearby leaves to tremble violently.
Number Three’s expression changed instantly. His fist, reinforced with spiritual energy, felt as if it had struck an immovable wall.
Before he could react, Su Mo’s wrist turned slightly. The blade slid along his arm with a faint shiing and cut diagonally.
Slash!
A clean wound appeared across Number Three’s chest, and he was sent flying backwards—bang!—crashing into a tree that splintered on impact with a loud crack!.
At the sa mont, Number Four’s kick arrived.
Whoosh—!
Su Mo tilted his body slightly, allowing the kick to brush past his robe.
Without turning his head, he swung backwards.
Clang!
The blade collided with Number Four’s guard, the impact forcing him back several steps as his feet dragged across the ground with a harsh scrrrk sound.
"Now!" Number Five shouted.
From multiple angles, daggers shot forward, targeting Su Mo’s vitals.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Su Mo’s expression remained calm. His sword moved fluidly, each swing producing a faint shiing as it sliced through the incoming daggers.
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