A Blind Swordsman's Sword Coffin

Chapter 773 - The Lu Clan’s Eldest Son, Lu Wuhen

While Li Guanqi and Lu Kangnian spoke in the study, in the southern reaches of the Azure Cloud Continent’s Daxia Territory, an ancient domain lay concealed within the void. Mountains and rivers spread wide inside it, and every structure carried the weight of generations. A spirit spring ran down from tall peaks, thin mist curling around it. Spirit fish, rarely seen anywhere in the outside world, swam lazily through the waters.

The great hall was full.

Beside Lu Tao sat a middle-aged man who closely resembled him. The man wore elaborate dark navy cloud-patterned robes, the collar and cuffs meticulously finished. A jade fish coronet rested atop his head, every strand of hair perfectly in place, his bearing stern and authoritative. He was Lu Tao’s father, Lu Hongyang, head of the number one branch among the clan’s eight branch families and a mid Combined Body Realm cultivator.

Seven others like him sat nearby. All eight branch families of the Lu clan were represented today, each having brought along one of their third-generation disciples.

Lu Hongyang glanced at Lu Tao, who was picking at his fingers beside him. “You went to see that person? How did it go?”

Lu Tao looked up to answer, but the lean, tall young man beside him cut in with a cold laugh. “He’s just some cultivator from the outside world. What’s there to see?”

The young man lounged back in his chair with one leg crossed over the other and shot Lu Tao a contemptuous glance. “If you ask me, this meeting is completely unnecessary. Lu Tao, don’t tell me you came away from that encounter thinking you couldn’t beat him?”

Lu Hongyang’s expression didn’t shift. He simply lifted the teacup beside him and drank.

Lu Tao understood right away. He sprang to his feet and kicked Lu Yun with lightning speed.

Bang!

Lu Yun’s reaction was quick. He threw an arm up to block, but no hasty defense could withstand the force of that kick. The chair beneath him exploded, and he flew backward.

Bang! Crash!

Lu Yun slammed into a stone pillar, cracking it open. Before he could react, a large hand seized his throat and wrenched him into the air.

A green spear appeared in Lu Tao’s palm. Glaring at Lu Yun, he drove it straight through his shoulder, nailing him to the pillar.

Lu Tao stepped back. Blood trickled slowly down the shaft of the spear.

Drip. Drip.

In the vast hall, the sound seemed especially grating.

“Yun’er! Lu Tao! What are you doing?! That was just banter between brothers. Did you really have to go this far?!”

Lu Tao’s father, Lu Hongyang, stayed perfectly composed, not even glancing up.

Lu Tao glanced at the ashen-faced Lu Yun and turned away with a cold smile. “Lu Yun has no business being on the martial stage.”

The hall stirred.

This so-called “martial stage” was, put plainly, a battle of plunder. It was a wager between the ancient clans and the outside sects, with consequences the loser could not bear.

Lu Tao turned his back on Lu Yun, ignoring the hatred in his gaze. He raised his hand. A sword wound ran across his palm, nearly severing it. He studied the wound, wariness flickering in his eyes. “See this? Just a stray bit of sword qi he tossed off. He wasn’t even holding a sword.”

Lu Tao was no fool. If Li Guanqi was drawing such pointed attention from the ancient clans, there had to be a reason.

The Qianlin Sect? They had a handful of demonic beasts carrying ancient great demon blood, but why would he covet them? He had only wanted to meet Li Guanqi in person and say hello. Li Guanqi had likely already pieced it together. Given his intelligence, there was no way he hadn’t.

The other third-generation disciples looked at Lu Tao, their expressions shifting again and again. None of them had expected him to have grown so strong. The late Illusory Refinement Realm Lu Yun had been completely helpless against him.

Then several faces in the hall changed at once. Lu Tao paled. He rushed to pull Lu Yun free, yanking out the spear and turning to the entrance in a bow.

Creak!

The heavy scarlet doors opened slowly. A striking young man in white robes walked in, unhurried.

His face was jade-clear and beautiful, his bearing cold and serene. His deep eyes held a maturity at odds with his age. He was lean, with an exceptionally straight posture. Standing there, he gave the impression of a sword still in its scabbard.

Lu Wuhen cast a mild glance at Lu Yun and Lu Tao. Lu Tao bent at the waist, cold sweat already running down his face.

He bowed in greeting. “Elder Brother...”

Lu Wuhen looked at Lu Tao indifferently. “Consider this afternoon a warning. Don’t strike your brothers this heavily.”

The veins in Lu Tao’s neck bulged, his face darkening to a deep, bruised color. His eyes turned bloodshot, and a mix of saliva and tears fell from his face to the floor.

Lu Hongyang noticed the change, and his expression shifted. He had barely opened his mouth when Lu Wuhen glanced at him. One look was enough. Lu Hongyang closed his mouth again.

A suffocating quiet spread through the hall. Lu Wuhen was only a third-generation disciple, yet no one dared breathe too loudly. He was the most outstanding genius the Lu clan had ever produced, the one most likely to one day lead them into the ranks of the Nine Great Sacred Clans.

He had an innate Saint Spirit Root, an innate Sword Seed Physique, and half-step Combined Body Realm cultivation.

It was said that the moment he entered the Combined Body Realm, he would comprehend Sword Soul Realm sword intent. Even now, Lu Wuhen’s strength was enough to cut down a cultivator who had just entered the Combined Body Realm. In the entire Lu clan, aside from Ancestor Lu Hengtian, his word carried as much weight as the clan head’s.

“Pfft! E-Elder Brother... I was wrong! I... shouldn’t have... made contact with him without permission!”

Under the pressure of Lu Wuhen’s aura, Lu Tao coughed up a large amount of blood. The veins on his forehead bulged. He couldn’t hold on any longer.

Lu Wuhen withdrew his gaze and walked slowly past him. His voice reached Lu Tao’s ears, cold as mountain snow. “This had better not happen again. Understood?”

Bowing low under Lu Wuhen’s crushing presence and icy stare, Lu Tao felt his heart stop. He forced the words out.

“Un-understood.”

Lu Wuhen walked on.

Lu Tao had completely exhausted his strength. He collapsed and gulped great lungfuls of air. His robes were soaked through with cold sweat. He had sensed it clearly: Lu Wuhen’s killing intent, directed at him.

He looked up at Lu Wuhen with lingering dread. The young man had already taken the seat at the head of the hall, perfectly composed. He closed the doors with a wave of his hand, then said quietly, “Now then. Everyone is here. Let us discuss the wager duel with the Daxia Sword Sect. I trust you all know the background by now. This ‘wager’ is not something we can refuse. If we want to keep things simple, we’ll take part in the wager. As for the invitation... let Ah Tao deliver it. However, we need to discuss who will fight.”