Ji Wuye's eyebrows twitched violently, the muscles in his forehead creasing deeply as a glistening bead of sweat formed on his pale temple, rolling down the contours of his face in a shimmering trail.
His trembling hands clutched his head, fingers digging painfully into his scalp as his long, silvery-white hair whipped wildly in the scorching midnight air, strands lashing at his face like ghostly tendrils.
The intense, searing heat from the towering inferno surrounding Tianji Village made the atmosphere shimmer and distort, wavering at the edges of his vision as if the world itself was melting away.
The acrid smell of smoke filled his nostrils, mingling with the metallic tang of spilled blood and the earthy scent of upturned soil.
At that moment, the fierce clash of the unorthodox martial artist and the Kunlun disciples that Ji Wuye had been observing with furrowed brow finally reached its thunderous climax.
The unorthodox martial artist fell with a sickening crunch of splintering bone, his body crumpling to the hardened earth in a lifeless heap as the victorious Kunlun disciples stood resolute, chests heaving with each ragged breath.
Their robes, once pristine, now bore the marks of battle - torn fabric, spatters of blood, and a fine layer of ash coating every surface.
'I need to move,' Ji Wuye's thoughts echoed urgently in his mind, his jaw clenching so tightly that a muscle twitched visibly along his jawline. Another excruciating wave of arcane knowledge about the Sword Aura slammed into his consciousness with the force of a tidal wave, threatening to cleave his very being asunder.
His crimson pupils dilated and contracted rapidly, reflecting the internal storm raging within him.
Like the frenzied embers dancing skyward from the raging wall of fire hungrily consuming Tianji Village, Ji Wuye's slender figure perched precariously atop a weathered rooftop became a blur of fluid motion.
He moved with an almost otherworldly grace that seemed at odds with his inner turmoil, leaping from one creaking, moss-covered rooftop to the next with the silent agility of a hunting cat.
All around, the clashes that had painted the midnight darkness with sparks of martial combat were winding down as more Kunlun reinforcements materialized, swiftly sweeping aside the remaining pockets of resistance.
However, some of the disciples glanced upward, their sharp eyes catching glimpses of movement above. However, the oppressive darkness of midnight, coupled with the intense, shimmering heat radiating from the wall of fire, played tricks on their vision.
They relaxed their stances upon seeing what appeared to be a white martial robe fluttering in the night, its owner leaping gracefully between rooftops like a phantom in the gloom.
...
Finally reaching another active battlefield, Ji Wuye's frown eased slightly as the relentless onslaught of mental anguish subsided for a moment. His breathing, which had been ragged and labored, began to slow and deepen as he focused his attention on the scene unfolding below.
Two solitary figures remained locked in a showdown amidst the drifting smoke and settling ashes.
The air around them seemed to vibrate with tension, a pressure so potent and thick that even the unorthodox fighter's gray hanfu seemed weighed down, the fabric melding into the cracked stone path beneath his feet as if an immense force pressed down upon him.
Tiny pebbles and debris skittered away from the epicenter of their confrontation, as if fleeing the impending clash.
'6th realm...' Ji Wuye murmured inwardly.
The unorthodox martial artist was a grizzled middle-aged man, his face marred by a jagged scar slashing across one side, forever closing that eye.
Though bowed by the immense weight of his opponent's 6th realm Zone, he exhibited no outward signs of exertion or strain - his pristine robe remaining crisp and unruffled, not a single bead of sweat marring his brow.
The one-eyed man stood with an air of casual confidence, his jian gripped loosely in his right hand. The blade extended outward at an angle, as if being offered to an opponent, while his left arm mirrored the extension - leaving his front completely exposed in a brazenly unguarded posture.
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His feet were planted squarely on the cracked stone, devoid of any discernible martial form or footwork. The stance seemed almost mocking in its simplicity, a challenge to any who dared approach.
Yet the devastation surrounding the one-eyed man within a 10 zhang radius testified to his fearsome power. Buildings, once sturdy and whole, now stood as bisected husks. Market stalls lay in splintered ruin, their wares scattered like fallen leaves.
Hanging lanterns, split cleanly in two, swayed gently in the night breeze, their flames extinguished. Even thick wooden pillars, which had stood for generations, were cleanly severed as if sliced through by an impossibly sharp edge.
"You've got a long way to go before you can defeat me, young man," the one eyed man spoke calmly.
On the other hand, the Kunlun disciple squaring off against this formidable foe could not have presented a starker contrast.
His eyes were narrowed in intense concentration, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. His shoulders were visibly tautened, muscles coiled with tension as he gripped his jian defensively with both hands.
A faint bluish Qi sheathed his blade and clung to his palms in a defensive shroud, pulsing gently with each rapid beat of his heart.
"Don't try to act wise, Half-moon Blade!" The disciple's retort carried an audible tremble of mingled anger and fear, his voice cracking slightly on the last syllable.
"Your reputation as the worst is widely known in Jianghu! Slaughtering people based on your qualification, despite the people not wanting to be judged, to the point that common people are afraid to walk the streets, even in broad daylight, because of you!"
He visibly steadied his breathing, his chest rising and falling in a measured rhythm as he fought to control his emotions.
Squaring his stance, resolve hardened his expression, transforming fear into determination. "And now, we catch you red-handed, plotting against Kunlun itself!"
The one eyed man cocked his head slightly, a predatory smile creeping across his lips as he drank in the words of his young opponent.
The scar tissue stretching across his face pulled taut, giving his expression an even more menacing cast. "Such righteous words from someone so young. Tell me, Little One, what's your name?"
Lifting his chin proudly despite the tension gripping his shoulders, the disciple declared, "I am Fan Fu, disciple of Mu Lan Jiang of Kunlun! And I will be the one to end your murderous spree!" His voice rang out clear and strong, echoing off the shattered buildings around them.
A soft chuckle, laced with dark amusement, escaped Half-moon Blade's lips but then, he tilting his head as if pondering some idle thought, he murmured, "Mu Lan Jiang...Mu Lan..."
A sinister smirk crept across Half-moon Blade's lips as a flicker of recollection passed over his scarred features, his closed eye twitching slightly. "The man known as Blood Sword? Interesting. So you're his disciple.
"I've heard whispers of your Master's skill." He paused, letting the words hang in the air before adding with a venomous undertone, "But whispers and reality are often quite different, aren't they?"
Fan Fu gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw visibly clenching as he struggled to maintain his composure in the face of the villain's taunts.
A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, betraying his inner turmoil. "Enough talk, villain," he spat, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. "Your words mean nothing in the face of your crimes!"
"Words are indeed meaningless," Half-moon Blade agreed, his tone suddenly turning deadly serious. The abrupt shift in his demeanor was palpable, like the calm before a devastating storm.
He lifted his head, his single eye surveying the surrounding rooftops where countless Kunlun disciples had gathered, jians gripped at the ready.
It was as if the very atmosphere was being compressed, making it difficult to breathe. "Come at me all at once. Let's see if the renowned Blood Sword truly had a good eye for choosing disciples...perhaps you can withstand my might before my Lord arrives."
As the words left Half-moon Blade's lips, the atmosphere around him seemed to distort and darken ominously.
The air shimmered with an unnatural heat, and shadows seemed to deepen and writhe at the edges of vision. Even the observing Kunlun disciples perched on the rooftops gulped involuntarily, a palpable sense of rising threat and menace gripping them.
Some shifted uneasily, their weapons trembling slightly in their hands.
"Senior Brother Fan...let's join forces!" a voice called out, tinged with desperation.
"Agreed! This man is too powerful! We can't let him run wild!" another chimed in, the words laced with fear and determination.
Fan Fu's jaw clenched, visibly torn between youthful pride and pragmatic caution. His eyes darted briefly to the sides, taking in the positions of his fellow disciples without turning his head.
He addressed them, his voice steady yet strained with tension. "Stay back, Juniors. You're no match for him, even if we fight together." He exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling as he visibly steeled himself. "I just need to buy time for Junior Sister to finish her mission!"
Fan Fu's focus remained locked on the lethal one-eyed fighter before him, unwilling to give even an inch of ground.
The faint bluish Qi coalescing around his jian began to shimmer and slowly darken, transforming into a thick, ominous blood-red hue.
...
Meanwhile, observing silently from his vantage point, Ji Wuye noted the stark contrast between the Zone exerted by the unorthodox martial artist and that of the Inner Disciple of Kunlun.
Though the distance rendered their exchange largely inaudible, Ji Wuye could piece together the outline of the confrontation from their body language and the reactions of those around them.
‘So, it's a battle between Sword Zone and Zone, huh...’ Ji Wuye concluded inwardly, his crimson pupils glinting as the two combatants prepared to make their opening moves. Just then, a series of transparent notification screens abruptly flickered into existence before his eyes:
image [https://i.ibb.co.com/RQFNGKF/Notif-1.webp]
image [https://i.ibb.co.com/RQFNGKF/Notif-1.webp]
image [https://i.ibb.co.com/RQFNGKF/Notif-1.webp]
...
'Finally...Sword Star, huh?' A satisfied smile spread across Ji Wuye's lips as the revelation sank in. This was the very reason he had lingered in Tianji Village despite having already gathered vast insights into the Sword Aura.
Strange, new knowledge continued filtering into his consciousness as he observed the imminent clash, until at last, the one-sided battle reached its conclusion.
The Kunlun Inner Disciple lay crumpled on the ground, his chest heaving with labored breaths. A deep, ragged gash tore through the front of his white martial robe, exposing a grievous wound underneath. The remaining disciples watched tensely from the rooftops, some already nursing their own injuries while others tended to their fallen comrades.
Yet throughout it all, the sinister one-eyed fighter stood unscathed - his gray hanfu pristine and unwrinkled, showing not even the faintest hint of exertion. The faint bluish Qi shrouding his body remained steady and controlled, a subtle undulation of power masking his true might.
'So, they lost,' Ji Wuye remarked inwardly, his expression betraying no outward reaction save for the gleam of satisfaction glinting in his eyes and the slight upward curl at the corners of his mouth when another translucent notification window materialized before him.
image [https://i.ibb.co/Mp9xLWV/Notif-2.webp]