A Blind Swordsman's Sword Coffin

The scene shook many of the onlookers.

Neither Li Guanqi nor Lu Kangnian had expected Gu Huai to be so bold. He had already stepped in to help, and now he was staking his entire sect on the outcome as well.

Lu Kangnian opened his mouth to speak, but Gu Huai raised a hand to stop him.

Gu Huai said solemnly, “I repay every grievance and every kindness in kind. In the past, I yielded to the Sun clan again and again, losing my backbone in the process. But meeting Young Cultivator Li and seeing what the Daxia Sword Sect had become helped me find my way again. A man may die, but he must not die without dignity.”

Gu Huai’s eyes shone as he looked at Lu Kangnian. “The Six Gates Holy Sect is no top-tier sect, yet you have never looked down on us. You’ve never betrayed our trust, and you’ve come to our aid more than once. Allies stand and fall together.”

Lu Kangnian drew a deep breath and clasped his hands in a fist salute toward Gu Huai. Li Guanqi felt a surge of emotion as well.

Before meeting Li Guanqi, Gu Huai had long known his days were numbered, his spirit and life force nearly exhausted. He had bowed his head to the Sun clan to give his sect’s disciples a better life, yet all it had earned him was the Sun clan’s oppression and contempt. Now, he would sooner die than repeat that mistake.

Gu Huai certainly had a rare gift for putting people‌ at ease. Zhou Shiyu had originally feared that losing would take the Daxia Sword Sect down with him, but things had worked out just fine.

His master had cut off every last line of retreat. With the debts piled up so high, a little more hardly mattered. If Zhou Shiyu was afraid of gambling away the Daxia Sword Sect, then they might as well stake their own sect too. If they lost, they would all lose together.

Just as everyone expected the black-robed Zhou Shiyu to crack under the pressure of Gu Huai’s declaration, his lips curled into a faint smile. He reached into the void and drew out a heavy, edgeless sword.

The sword was two palms wide, resembling a pitch-black coffin plank. Its blunt edge was three fingers thick, and at a glance, it looked like it weighed at least three thousand jin. However, Zhou Shiyu raised it in one hand as though it weighed nothing.

He looked at his opponent and grinned. “I want to win this round.”

Across from him, the burly man in white robes smiled coldly and drew out a dark golden staff.

Thud!

The long staff struck the ground, and the earth within a hundred zhang sank three inches. A tremendous gust swept out in every direction. Zhou Shiyu’s robes snapped in the wind, but he remained rooted in place, unmoved by the show of force.

The rough-faced, bearded giant said coldly, “And so?”

Zhou Shiyu planted the Edgeless Sword beside him and removed his black outer robe. With his head lowered, he said quietly, “I carry a great deal on my back, and it weighs on me. So heavily... that there are times I can’t breathe.”

He slowly raised his head and glanced at Li Guanqi. “But looking back, I realize my convictions carried me every step of the way to where I stand now.”

The veins on Zhou Shiyu’s arms bulged. He slowly drew his sword. “And so... you will die.”

Zhou Shiyu’s opponent threw his head back and laughed so hard he nearly doubled over, leaning heavily on his staff. “Hahahahaha! What arrogance! Magnificent arrogance! In all these years, aside from Wuhen, you’re the first to dare speak to me, Lu Xingyuan, like this!”

His expression darkened. In a low, rumbling growl, he said, “I’ll crush every bone in your body and leave you begging for death.”

Li Guanqi stared at Lu Xingyuan, his expression grave. The man was clearly close to a hundred years old. His late Illusory Refinement Realm cultivation was rock solid, unlike Zhou Shiyu’s, which was somewhat unsteady. Zhou Shiyu had climbed quickly through a string of unexpected gains, but his foundation was weaker than Lu Xingyuan’s.

As dark clouds gathered above the Daxia Sword Sect and wild winds whipped through, a brooding pressure settled over the sect grounds. The crowd held its breath, anxiously watching the two figures on the stage.

If Zhou Shiyu lost this round, it would mean the factions of the Six Territories had lost to the ancient clans. This battle was no longer merely a matter between the Daxia Sword Sect and the Lu clan. The factions of the Six Territories and the ancient clans had long since been drawn into the conflict.

If the Daxia Sword Sect prevailed, morale would soar, and the Six Territories’ factions would face the ancient clans with far greater confidence. Though the ancient clans appeared at ease, they had just as much at stake. If the Lu clan won, the ancient clans still biding their time would surely follow suit and begin challenging other factions as well. But if the Lu clan lost, many reclusive clans would likely think twice before making the same wager.

As such, the result of the upcoming match carried enormous consequences. Li Guanqi and the others watched anxiously. Even Qin Xian had cold sweat beading on his forehead. He knew exactly what losing this match would mean for the Daxia Sword Sect.

Han Chengxian, standing nearby, scoffed. “Li Guanqi, with the third round being so critical, you actually chose not to take the stage yourself? If he loses, the entire Daxia Sword Sect will pay for your decision!”

Duantai Yiting had gone pale. He had been playing the part of a subservient underling for some time, purely to earn Li Guanqi’s trust. He had not expected such a dire turn of events. If they truly lost, everything he had schemed for inside the Daxia Sword Sect would be gone.

Duantai Yiting’s eyes glinted. He looked toward the Lu clan, his gaze sweeping back and forth as though he were calculating something.

Duantai Yiting’s lackey, Ji Hong, sneered and jabbed a finger at Lu Kangnian. “Lu Kangnian, I really don’t know what you were thinking, trusting the judgment of a mere boy. If they actually lose, let’s see how you face the sect! The Daxia Sword Sect has stood for ten thousand years, only to be ruined by a useless sect master like you!”

Bang! Pfft!

Ji Hong was abruptly engulfed by thirty talismans. Countless spirit swords erupted from within, piercing his body again and again. Blood poured from his wounds as two blood-red formations appeared above and below him, spinning in opposite directions.

Ji Yuchuan and Xi Yunhuai stood behind Li Guanqi, their gazes as cold as ice.

Xi Yunhuai clasped his hands inside his sleeves, slowly twisting his fingers. Ji Hong’s body contorted grotesquely. An invisible hand seemed to seize his throat, leaving him unable to make a sound. His eyes bulged, and his face turned the color of a pig’s liver. He struggled to speak but couldn’t force out a single word.

Bones cracked and snapped incessantly. As the blood-red formations ground against him, Ji Hong’s body contorted like a wrung-out cloth.

Ji Yuchuan tilted his head and said coldly, “Old wretch, say one more word, and I’ll make your life a living hell.”

Nangong Qianyan shot Ji Hong a sideways glance and said icily, “Serves you right. All you do is make snide remarks from the sidelines. If you had to represent us in one of the duels, you’d probably soil yourself the moment you stepped onto the stage. A dog is still a dog. One look from your master and you leap out to bite.”