The ten moves Su Muyu executed were no longer the sword techniques of Swordless City but those of the Dark River Su Family. Gone was the grand bearing of the so-called Sword Way—each strike was now purely lethal, designed to kill.
Yet under the bright sun and clear sky, such assassination-style swordplay was entirely out of place. Su Muyu had always been calm and collected—how could he make such a mistake?
Su Muyu thrust his sword toward Liu Yunqi’s chest, drawing gasps from the onlookers. Liu Yunqi leaned back, letting the blade skim past his forehead. Then, his Canglongya hooked onto Su Muyu’s left sleeve and yanked backward, tearing off a strip of flesh. The searing pain jolted Su Muyu back to his senses. He shook his head vigorously and looked at Liu Yunqi again, only to find the man still wearing a faint smile—but his pupils now glowed with an eerie purple hue.
"You cheated," Su Muyu muttered.
"Though you struggle to suppress it, one glance was enough for me to see—your entire being reeks of bloodshed. You’re no swordsman. The work you’ve done these years must be that of a killer," Liu Yunqi said softly.
Su Muyu fought to restrain his murderous intent, subtly shifting his stance from offense to defense as he took a step back. He hadn’t expected Liu Yunqi, the former lord of Peerless City and once a leader of the righteous sects, to practice such sinister martial arts. The Dark River Mu Family also had similar techniques—ones that could cloud minds and exploit weaknesses. Legends even spoke of skills that could summon inner demons with a single glance, driving victims to suicide. Yet such arts were universally condemned as heretical. Liu Yunqi, relying on the distance between himself and the spectators to conceal his deceit, was truly a despicable man.
"When the sword meets the storm, one smiles as the clouds rise," an elder on the city walls murmured, stroking his long beard. "After all these years, the old lord’s swordsmanship remains as poetic and effortless as ever."
Below the walls, Liu Yunqi unleashed three consecutive strikes—fluid as drifting clouds, their Sword Qi surging like a torrent, forcing Su Muyu into retreat until he could barely parry. The onlookers, including Xiu Ru, exhaled in relief. Earlier, Su Muyu had pressured the Sword Elder into surrender without even drawing his blade, making them believe he stood a strong chance against the old lord. Yet now, Liu Yunqi had completely suppressed him the moment he struck.
On the city tower, Song Yanhui frowned slightly. He had crossed blades with Su Muyu earlier—based on that exchange, Su Muyu shouldn’t be this outmatched. Had Liu Yunqi truly refined his swordsmanship to new heights during his seclusion in the Sword Hut?
Su Muyu himself was equally troubled. Throughout his journey east, he had kept his sword sheathed, even against masters like the Sword Elder, all to nurture a surge of Sword Qi. By the time he reached Peerless City and declared his "Sword Challenge to Unrivaled," his Sword Qi had reached its peak. Thus, even without drawing his sword, a single finger, fist, or even his words could wound with Sword Qi alone. But Liu Yunqi’s provocation had unleashed his killing intent, overwhelming his cultivated Sword Qi and dissipating the momentum he had built. He was no longer the unstoppable force from before.
Liu Yunqi, a grandmaster who had dominated the martial world for decades, had seen through Su Muyu’s plan at a glance—and with that same glance, shattered it completely.
"Dirty tricks," Su Muyu cursed under his breath."The Way is what your father sought. But I, Liu Yunqi, have never sought the Way in my life," Liu Yunqi said with a laugh. "I seek only victory. And only the victor has the right to speak of the Way."
"The Way," Su Muyu murmured softly. It was indeed a word his father often spoke of.
Back in Zhuo Yuluo's Sword Pavilion, two enormous characters hung on the wall, said to be written by the renowned calligrapher Yu Shiqing. One character was "Sword," the other "Way." Together, they formed the Sword Way.
"Father, what is the Sword Way?" the young Su Muyu once asked.
"The so-called sword refers to sword techniques and methods. How strong can a single sword become? From defeating ten men to a hundred, then a thousand, even ten thousand. We swordsmen spend our days refining the sword in our hands, hoping to hone it to its utmost strength, capable of challenging the world," Zhuo Yuluo said, gazing up at those two characters. "I believe my sword has reached its peak. To advance further, one must comprehend the Way."
"But what is the Way?" The young Su Muyu didn't even understand the first half of his father's words.
Zhuo Yuluo didn't mind. He knew his child wouldn't understand—he was merely speaking to himself. "The Sword Immortal of Kunlun once said his sword techniques had three realms. The first is seeing a mountain as a mountain, water as water. The second is seeing a mountain not as a mountain, water not as water. The third is seeing a mountain still as a mountain, water still as water. I've pondered this for years but still don't grasp its meaning. To me, the so-called Way is simply a reason to draw one's sword."
From then on, Zhuo Yuluo began visiting Sword Way masters across the martial world, winning duel after duel, and the fame of Swordless City grew ever greater. Yet Zhuo Yuluo never truly comprehended that elusive Way.
Until the day Swordless City fell. Surrounded by over a dozen peerless swordsmen, Zhuo Yuluo retreated to a small riverbank. He placed his child in a bucket and set it adrift downstream. The swordsmen rushed forward to stop him. At that moment, Zhuo Yuluo unleashed the strongest sword strike of his life—with a single stroke, he cut down all those peerless swordsmen. Then, drenched in blood, he collapsed by the riverbank. Watching his child float away, he smiled.
Some truths of the Way can only be understood at the moment of death.
The strongest sword strike of one's life may only come once.
"I told you earlier—no one from Peerless City has the right to speak my father's name, least of all you!" Su Muyu suddenly roared, drawing his sword. The Sword Qi that Liu Yunqi had suppressed earlier erupted anew.
Whatever flowing water and drifting clouds—shatter!
Whatever grandmaster's bearing—shatter!
Whatever peerless under heaven—all shall shatter!
Liu Yunqi's defense crumbled as he retreated step by step, his protective Sword Qi shattered by Su Muyu's onslaught. After ten steps, the sleeve of his sword arm was in tatters. Ten more steps, and a crack appeared on his Canglongya sword. Another ten steps, and Su Muyu's blade was at Liu Yunqi's chest again.
Yet Liu Yunqi remained unshaken, laughing inwardly: Good, just like this! The fiercer you fight now, the sooner you'll lose! In an instant, he spotted a flaw in Su Muyu's stance and struck, sending the Crane Feather Sword flying from Su Muyu's grip.
"You've lost!" Liu Yunqi bellowed."You want me to use assassination techniques!" Su Muyu slightly leaned forward. "Then I'll give you the most extreme assassination techniques!"
As Su Muyu leaned forward, that paper umbrella blocked Liu Yunqi's descending sword strike.
And so, the paper umbrella burst open like a blossoming flower.
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