“If I, Su Yuan, dare to use Prairie Fire today, I don’t care if I die in the future.”
In the distance, the green-robed Daoist was in the air. The sword light in his hand caused flames to fill and fall from the sky.
This was the last memory that remained on the severely damaged sword.
If he used Prairie Fire, his life would be in danger?
Han Muye was confused.
The Prairie Fire Sword Technique was a fire-type ultimate technique. Why couldn’t he use it?
There were too many swords entering the pavilion that day, so he did not have time to think about it. He only checked briefly before taking them in.
After the Battle Sword Hall sent the swords over, he looked at the group of black-robed disciples of the Sword Sect.
Red robes were donned for joyous occasions and black robes for mourning.
31 disciples of the Nine Mystic Sword Sect had died, and only less than 10 personal swords could be found.
“An inner sect disciple, Tao He, accepted the demon-slaying mission and unfortunately died. His sword will be sent to the Sword Pavilion today.”
A middle-aged man in a black robe with a broken sword in his hand strode forward with a solemn expression.
The sword was broken, the blade incomplete.
After Han Muye checked, he put it away solemnly.
Life was like dust. Only this broken sword had witnessed him fighting amok in this world.
Even ordinary disciples should be respected for that.
“Inner sect disciple Luo Tian, the leader has completed the mission to eliminate demons and unfortunately died. His sword has been sent back to the Sword Pavilion.”
‘Luo Tian?’
Han Muye narrowed his eyes and reached for the broken sword.
“Wait—”
There was a distant shout.
“My son’s sword is not from the Sword Pavilion. This sword doesn’t need to be sent to the Sword Pavilion.”
A 50-year-old man in a navy blue robe with red eyes rushed over and reached out to grab the sword in Han Muye’s hand.
Han Muye narrowed his eyes and gently held the hilt of the broken sword.
“Slash—”
The broken sword was unsheathed. It was mottled with rust and stained with blood.
Seeing that the sword was so broken, the old man displayed pain on his face. He looked up at Han Muye. “This sword is not from the Sword Pavilion. It’s my son’s relic. I want to take it with me.”
Han Muye said nothing.
With his hand on the hilt, images flashed in his mind.
“Brother Luo, I heard that my nephew doesn’t have a good sword. I can give him my unused sword,” a Daoist priest in a green robe with three short moustache said calmly.
“Senior Brother Qin, this isn’t right. After all, it’s your sword.” The person who spoke in the image was the green-robed old man in front of him.
“Brother Luo, what are you saying? We metal and wood lineages are close to each other, and I, Qin Lin, have no children. Why don’t you give this sword to Nephew Luo Tian?”
Qin Lin.
He was the Wood lineage Elder of the Nine Mystic Sword Sect.
…
The scene changed, and the sword was in the hands of Luo Tian, an inner sect disciple of the Nine Mystic Sword Sect.
Luo Tian smiled happily as he practiced the sword technique with this sword.
He led the team down the mountain to kill demons. Among the dozens of people in the team, there were even elite disciples ranked in the top 300 in the inner sect.
They searched everywhere and looked for traces of demons. Luo Tian personally killed a snow-white demon fox.
A demon fox!
Han Muye was about to take a closer look at the scene when the green-robed elder in front of him became impatient. He raised his head and looked at the third floor of the Sword Pavilion.
“Elder Gao, Luo Yisheng is begging to take away my son’s belongings!”
Luo Yisheng cupped his fists and shouted.
After waiting for a moment, there was no sound from the third floor. Luo Yisheng’s expression turned to anger as he shouted in a low voice, “Gao Changgong, we’ve been friends for decades. Aren’t you going to give me some face?”
Han Muye held the broken sword with an unchanged expression.
If the elder did not speak, he would not hand the sword over to Luo Yisheng.
In front of the Sword Pavilion, the atmosphere was solemn.
Luo Yisheng’s expression changed and finally turned to sorrow. He looked at the sword in Han Muye’s hand.
“Brother Gao, Luo Tian is my eldest son. This sword is his only relic…”
In the higher levels of Sword Pavilion, a faint reply came. “Take it.”
Han Muye handed over the broken sword.
Gratitude flashed across Luo Yisheng’s face. He nodded, held the sword with both hands, and turned to leave, staggering slightly.
Han Muye watched him leave, his eyes flashing.
Among the few swords that were received afterwards, some were broken and some were damaged. After being returned to the Sword Pavilion, he could only report the damage and then melt them.
After recording all the swords, Han Muye wrote them down and checked them again.
“Could Brother Six have eloped with Sister-in-law…”
At the door, Lu Gao muttered.
Han Muye laughed involuntarily.
It would be best if Huang Six had eloped with Lu Qingping.
After all, Lu Qingping’s Clear Wind Temple had also betrayed the Nine Mystic Sword Sect. No one knew when an incident would break out.
By that time, Huang Six and Lu Qingping would be in a difficult position.
“The Sword Pavilion is an important place. All except, except, except, Sect Master…” Lu Gao’s words in front of the Sword Pavilion stunned Han Muye.
“You know me?”
“Guard it well. The Sword Pavilion is an important place in the Sword Sect.”
A gentle voice sounded. When Han Muye stood up, a thin Daoist in a purple robe and a golden crown was already standing in front of him.
“Are you the disciple chosen by Senior Brother Gao?”
“Not bad.”
The Daoist sized up Han Muye, smiled and nodded, then strode upstairs.
With just one look, Han Muye felt like his entire body was about to explode!
Sword Qi flew out of his body uncontrollably.
What sword bones, what sword Qi, what cultivation level? In front of this gaze, they were as thin as paper!
“Hum—”
The sword intent in his sea of Qi vibrated, and the swords on the first floor of the Sword Pavilion responded, causing the sword Qi on Han Muye’s body to slowly retract.
In his meridians, all the shattered sword Qi turned into nothingness.
With a glance, Han Muye’s meridians almost broke, and his body collapsed!
This was a true expert!
Han Muye, whose back was cold, slowly sat back down behind the long table. His limbs were a little weak.
Jin Ze, the Sect Master of the Nine Mystic Sword Sect.
He was known as Gold Water Fusion.
He was at the Core Formation realm and cultivated the sword techniques of the metal and water lineage. He was a top expert who had shocked the Western Frontier for 300 years.
Sitting behind the long table, Han Muye smiled bitterly, his expression slowly turning solemn.
That day, he finally realized the importance of cultivation and strength.
In Suzhen Building, he thought that his choice was very important and could even affect the sect.
But when he stood in front of Tuoba Cheng, he was directly reprimanded.
Tuoba Cheng’s soaring sword intent and 36 ferocious tiger phantoms suppressed the 83 sects alone. This was the true power.
When he returned to the Sword Pavilion, the Sword Pavilion Elder told him that with his strength, he could not even hold a middle-grade spiritual artifact sword.
The resentment in the sword could make his soul collapse.
Just now, the gaze of the Core Formation cultivator, the Sect Master of the Nine Mystic Sword Sect, Jin Ze, almost broke his meridians.
This was the world of grand cultivators!
With a casual glance and a casual wave of their hands, the mountains would collapse, the rivers would reverse, and the stars would fall like rain!
It turned out that cultivation could be so carefree!
As high as the nine heavens, overlooking all things!
He gently opened his palm, and the sword intent in Han Muye’s sea of Qi vibrated. All the swords on the first floor of the Sword Pavilion vibrated.
“No wonder the Sword Caretaker is willing to cultivate for a lifetime in exchange for the Hundred Breath Realm.”
“The Heaven Realm is ultimately the Heaven Realm.”
“How can mortals understand the loneliness of the Nine Heavens?”
Opening his eyes, Han Muye’s eyes flashed.
“I, Han Muye, will definitely reach the Heaven Realm!”
“Even if it’s only the hundred breaths!”
As if sensing his thoughts, the sword Qi on the swords in the Sword Pavilion seemed to emit out.
“Han Muye, come up.”
The Sword Pavilion Elder’s voice suddenly sounded.
Han Muye stood up, straightened his clothes, and strode up the stairs.