Mountains and rivers bear witness, fires of old linger Chapter Twenty-five: The Swordsman in Green Robes

The next morning, a fierce wind swept through the streets of Lingwu, stinging faces like knives.

Beneath a tavern, a shabby man frowned slightly and, with a flicker of movement, appeared at the street's edge. There stood a woman clad in azure robes, a jade-green sword in her hand. She surveyed her surroundings, fingers brushing the blade, then fixed her gaze on the newcomer, pointing her sword level.

"I come from the Sword Pavilion. Last night, I sensed a surge of sword intent erupting from this place, so I arrived to investigate. I never expected to find a master of your caliber in this corner of the world."

The shabby man stared at her, inwardly recalling how the Sword Pavilion had become deserted overnight years ago, now just ruins visited by many. This woman claimed to be from the Pavilion, and her skill was formidable. But if she truly belonged there, why was she absent the night disaster struck?

He steeled himself, for the pressure she exerted rivaled, perhaps even surpassed, the legendary masters of old. Seeing him tense as if facing a formidable foe, the woman in green continued:

"Don't misunderstand. My purpose was never you. Yet, encountering someone of your level, the urge to spar is only natural. Before I discover the source of that sword intent, I wish to test myself against you."

With that, she made a polite gesture inviting him to duel.

Realizing a confrontation was inevitable, the shabby man, not wishing to damage the street, led her to the outskirts.

There, the woman set her sword before her, speaking calmly:

"I am the fifty-sixth master of the Sword Pavilion. Please, grant me your guidance."

The shabby man, rare in his seriousness, replied with equal gravity:

"Lingwu's wandering swordsman. No name."

Neither moved, yet the leaves around them rose without wind, clashing and shattering like blades. Occasionally, a lone leaf drifted onto a stone, splitting it instantly.

Her azure sleeves billowed, sword intent gathering, forming a blue glow that circled her blade.

Observing, the shabby man praised her:

"Internal force condensed, true energy manifest—so you've cultivated innate sword qi, and your sword qi has crystallized. You've grasped the way of the sword. I dare say your swordsmanship ranks among the top three in the world."

The woman showed no expression, only becoming more solemn. He had deduced her strength merely by her display of sword qi, yet she still couldn't discern his true power.

She thrust her sword, a flash of blue splitting the air with a tearing sound.

The shabby man, unfazed, waved his hand; the surrounding leaves flew to him, forming barriers. Her sword struck the first barrier—unyielding as stone—blue light chiseling away bit by bit. The second barrier was like a deep sea, dissipating her force, her sweat beading as she pressed on, blue radiance flaring as she pierced the sea. The third barrier reflected the myriad states of life, her sword's glow flickering uncertainly. Unable to break through, she withdrew her blade and retreated several paces, casting a complex look at the shabby man. Resolute, she rose, blue light swirling like wind and rain, sword intent gathering overhead into countless blades aimed at him.

He smiled and nodded:

"Now that's more like it."

His words, like an elder instructing the young, irked her, but she had no choice. Clearly, she was no match for him, yet pride compelled her to force him into a difficult defense.

However, her plan was destined to fail.

The shabby man raised his palm toward the sky and intoned:

"Sword, come!"

Within miles, countless lights converged, forming streams of sword intent rushing to his hand, coalescing into a single, gleaming sword.

"Condensed internal force? No...," the woman muttered, brows knit. His mastery far exceeded hers, his realm inscrutable.

"No matter. The sword has been drawn. In the way of the sword, there is no turning back."

Her eyes blazed, her foot struck the ground, launching her forward, with thousands of sword lights trailing behind.

Seeing her attack, the shabby man swept his sword—thousands of blue lights dimmed. He swept again—thousands more destroyed. The third sweep halted the woman a foot before him.

Her eyes faded, life extinguished.

He placed his hands on her brow:

"I grant you a new destiny."

A sudden gale arose, carrying myriad blue lights, mingled with colors—all pure sword intent. These flowed into her brow via his fingertips. After a moment, he withdrew his hands, drenched in sweat and swaying on his feet.

"Once, a man in white gifted a fan across a thousand miles. Today, I bestow you all my sword intent. You bear my favor now; should I be gone, if that young one faces danger, I hope you will protect him."

He turned and left, staggering like a drunken man. Once he was gone, the woman’s eyes gradually regained their light. She looked about for any sign of him, murmuring,

“To protect him... It seems I truly can no longer live as freely as before.”

Meanwhile,

In a corner of Wanzhou...

At the foot of a green mountain, beneath trailing clouds, music drifted through the woods.

This was a modest mountain in the Kingdom of Tianyuan. An old man with white hair and a goatee led a small donkey leisurely along the forest path. Beyond the mountain, dozens of armored riders thundered in, the clamor of their steeds echoing. Ahead, a man cradled an infant, plunged his sword into the ground, blood at his lips, white robes soaked crimson. Before he could catch his breath, the earth trembled, a black line appeared in the distance—soon revealed as thousands of cavalry, a terrifying sight. Only the legendary Qianfeng Iron Cavalry of Tianyuan, famed for unrivaled might, could muster such force. Today, they were hunting a single man.

"So many cavalry sent to kill me—at least I can take a few with me," he said, gazing at the infant. "A pity you must leave this world so soon. Still, this green mountain will make a fine grave."

With gentle force, he pushed the infant into the woods, then turned to face the approaching army. He smiled, set his sword before his chest, and released his grip. The sword multiplied into thousands. Forming his hands into a gesture, a formless blade appeared at his fingertips. With a sweeping slash, countless swords followed, slicing through the cavalry. Soldiers fell, horses screamed, sword qi swept all before it—none survived. But suddenly, an invisible barrier materialized, dispersing the sword qi like pebbles striking stone. The white-robed man frowned, then laughed heartily. In a tent behind the barrier, a figure waved a hand—the barrier surged forward like a tidal wave. The laughter faded, the white-robed man vanished like dust.

With him gone, the figure in the tent glanced at the mountain, saw nothing amiss, and ordered the cavalry to withdraw.

Meanwhile, in the mountain woods, the old man tapped the donkey’s head to spur it on, offering a carrot. The donkey, energized, trotted carefully, wary not to jostle its burden. The old man stroked the donkey’s head, and together they vanished into the forest path.

Tianyuan’s capital, Imperial Palace.

"Excellent, excellent! As long as he’s dead, no one will ever know!"

An old eunuch bowed beside a lavishly dressed lady, who laughed openly, her mood bright.

Her longtime adversary had been executed along with his household, thanks to the eunuch’s cunning. Smiling, she addressed him:

"Speak. You’ve done me a great favor—what do you want?"

The eunuch glanced around. The lady waved attendants away.

Once alone, he spoke slowly:

"Your Majesty, now that you enjoy the Emperor’s favor, I wish you’d help me with a simple matter—just a word from you would suffice."

Her brows arched:

"Oh? Go on."

He stepped forward, bowed deeply:

"If you would, when attending the Emperor tonight, whisper in his ear that Tianyuan is prosperous and peaceful thanks to him. With all nations paying homage, perhaps he could grant a general amnesty. That way, the man in prison could be released early."

She frowned:

"You want him freed?"

The eunuch smiled, though his eyes were cold:

"Only by releasing him can we destroy that other man."

She was displeased:

"If he’s released, the peace hard won between our countries will end."

The eunuch’s gaze hardened:

"The humiliation that man inflicted on us years ago—I have never dared forget. Once he’s free, we can finally destroy him."

She was taken aback:

"But if you couldn’t defeat him then, how can you now?"

He smiled:

"You do not know. After he left, he fought alone against the Outer Gallery. We thought him dead, but recent investigations show he survived, though grievously wounded. His strength now is but a fraction of what it was. He’s hiding somewhere, clinging to life. Once we find him, he won’t escape."

With a cold look, he withdrew.

Lingwu, beneath the tavern, the shabby man took a sip of wine. He grunted, unsure whether the wine was too strong or his body too weak.

He coughed twice, drank again, murmuring:

...Sword light cold, wine fierce—one gulp burns like fire...