Nightfall

The Iron Sword and the Wooden Sword

When Jun Mo walked into the back of the Lanke temple, the yellow-garbed monks on the stone path gathered around him as they chanted with Buddhist words. They threw the metal pestle and copper bowls in their hands at him. Some cultivators who were more powerful pulled out their flying swords.

A fast response was not necessarily a good thing at moments like this.

Jun Mo waved his sleeves, and the aura of Heaven and Earth in the courtyard turned chaotic. Several pestles and copper bowls flew back to where they came from; the monks were hit by their own Natal Items and began to bleed. Many of them looked as if they were about to die.

Then, he looked at those who had a high cultivation state and reacted quickly. The cultivators felt a pressure entering their bodies and dozens of flying swords fell in the autumn rain. Some cultivators even died, because their sense of perception was shattered.

Miserable howls rang on the stone laid grounds, with broken limbs flying all around and blood flowing like a river. Even if the autumn rain started to pour, it would be unable to wash the blood away at once. A strong stench of blood tore through the peaceful aura in the ancient temple.

Ye Su looked at the wooden sword in silence. Rainwater landed on the surface of his sword, washing away the two white lines left behind by Ning Que’s Two-Horizontal Talisman. Then, he looked up at the man who was wearing a high crown.

Jun Mo saw that the black horse carriage had disappeared from the stone steps in front of the temple. He looked at the chessboard in front of Master Qi Shan serenely. He sensed a ray of light and turned to look at it, meeting Ye Su’s gaze.

The two men did not speak, and they both looked indifferent.

There was a sliding sound, and Ye Su’s wooden sword was removed from its scabbard. It traversed through the rain and pierced towards Jun Mo.

It was just then, when Jun Mo finally drew his sword.

Jun Mo had not drawn his sword as he tore all the way, from breaking the Light of Buddha’s big tactical array to entering the temple, where everything that stood before him was tossed up into the air. He had not used his sword because he had not met anyone worthy of it. Ye Su was the Haotian Taoism’s World Wayfarer. He was a cultivation genius who had broken through the Life and Death Realm more than ten years ago. He was worthy of Jun Mo’s sword.

Jun Mo wore his high crown. His robes were lose, so one could not guess where he kept his scabbard.

But when his sword appeared, everyone in the temple could see it.

Because his sword was different from the ones owned by all Sword Masters in the world. His sword was broad. It was so broad that it was beyond imagination. It did not look like a sword at all, but rather a square piece of metal.

The square metal sheet was eye-catching; it was difficult not to see it.

Jun Mo’s sword was meant to be seen by everyone.

Mr. Second of the Academy had finally met the sword of the Taoism Sect’s World Wayfarer in the autumn rain at the Lanke Temple.

Ye Su’s sword was unblemished and silent. It was devoid of emotion and discernment; when it traveled through the autumn rain, it seemed to have become the rain, and could moisturize things in silence. Whereas it did not have the mercy as the rain had for life.

Jun Mo’s sword was large and it traveled straight through the rain, drawing squares. When it reached the end of a line, it would violate the rules of Swordsmanship and turn backward while still going in a straight line.