Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Fiery Swordsman of Nine Blades Falls

Ziyan had fallen to the ground, gravely injured and still unconscious, lying several yards away from Xu Xing. Though she had not a trace of strength left, she struggled, inching her way toward Xu Xing. Perhaps she wished only to be buried at his side.

“Brothers, let’s carry this beauty back for our own amusement!” snarled the man with a face full of scars. As he shouted, the sword formation dissolved. The nine of them mounted their swords, turning into streaks of light, and landed beside Xu Xing.

“Look, the swords this boy has planted in the ground are extraordinary. I wager they’re of a far higher grade than our own,” one of them remarked in surprise, gazing at the two swords embedded in the earth.

The long sword stood as if a fallen emperor, its solitary blade in the earth striking fear into onlookers, while the short sword lay beside it in silent echo.

One man approached, reaching to pull the sword free, but a strange scene unfolded. As his hand gripped the hilt, a blue dragon materialized from the blade, roaring and hurling him dozens of meters away.

Seeing their companion blasted back, the others were alarmed.

“Hurry! A sword of this caliber must be above the earth rank. Set the Sword Locking Formation!” They hastily surrounded the sword with complex runes, binding it tightly as if sealing Xu Xing’s cherished blade.

One of them fired a brilliant flare into the sky. It burst in the air, dazzlingly bright, visible for miles.

“Let’s wait for the others to come claim it. When they do, we’ll have earned great merit,” the scarred man said with a greedy grin, his gaze drifting to the unconscious Ziyan lying atop Xu Xing. The others laughed hungrily.

“Who would have thought that in a small town like Lantern City, there would be a beauty to rival the three great sects’ finest? We’ve struck it rich.”

“I imagine this woman will not sleep a wink tonight, hah!”

“We’re hardly at a loss. The sect sent us to capture the fugitive demoness and though we failed, this windfall is worth a thousand times more!”

Though unable to claim Xu Xing’s sword, their hearts pounded at Ziyan’s peerless beauty.

One man slung Ziyan over his shoulder, and as they turned to leave, a thin man glanced at the barely breathing Xu Xing and asked, “What about him? He seems close to the woman.”

The scarred man’s eyes hardened. Biting his lip, he replied, “Kill him. Best not to leave loose ends that could stain our hands later.”

He drew his sword, the blade’s icy gleam pointed at Xu Xing’s throat, and without a shred of mercy, swung down.

The others turned away, mounting their swords to depart.

“What!?” came a wild, disbelieving shout from the burly man.

They all wheeled around in shock at the sight before them.

Xu Xing, eyes still closed, had caught the sword with one hand. At that moment, he opened his eyes, staring straight at the brute.

“Put her down! You have three seconds!”

“Who do you think you are? Let me tell you, you’re still dead. This beauty will be our toy tonight.”

Xu Xing, livid, gripped the sword so tightly his blood ran down the blade as he slowly stood.

“Say that again!”

“I said, this woman is nothing but our toy for tonight!”

A sharp crack resounded.

“How is this possible?” the brute muttered, face clouded with shock.

The sword had shattered, its pieces scattered across the ground.

Apart from the man carrying Ziyan, the rest circled Xu Xing, sensing the situation had turned dire.

Xu Xing, by habit, tried to wield his sword, only to find it sealed by strange sigils. Lifting his hand, he pointed at the man with Ziyan and bellowed, “Let her go!”

Xu Xing raised his hand, forming a Buddhist mudra, and drew a line through the air—a gesture that seemed to slice through space, stirring a whirlwind.

The sword wind rose.

In an instant, eight men were hurled a hundred meters back, while the one flying with Ziyan was struck as if by an invisible blade, crashing to the ground in a spray of blood.

Xu Xing moved with the wind, becoming a blur, catching Ziyan as she plummeted.

At that moment, he felt the warmth of her body—more comforting than the first sunlight of dawn.

He laid her gently down, offered a wry smile, and wiped the drying blood from her shoulder with his sleeve. Softly, he murmured, “Elder Sister, leave the rest to me.”

He tenderly stroked her delicate face, gazing at her with reluctance, then picked up a withered branch from the ground and, like lightning, charged the men.

Regrouping, the men summoned their powerful artifacts, prepared to face Xu Xing at their peak.

“This kid is only at the early Foundation stage. How can he be so strong? Brothers, let’s settle it with one move!”

“Who is he? That gesture had such power. We can’t let him live. If he grows stronger, we’re doomed!”

The scarred man floated upward on his sword, sneering, “So what? He’s out of energy. We’ll stay in the air and he can’t touch us. No matter how strong he is, I won’t mind killing him again.”

A blurred figure streaked toward them, his voice arriving before he did.

“Who is hunting whom, you insects?”

But the nine hovered high above, far out of Xu Xing’s reach, forming a web of swords in the sky.

Xu Xing was late—the men had already taken to the skies. He looked up and chuckled, “Surely you don’t think I’m helpless?”

He tossed the branch aside. Though he had not fully recovered, he could still fly for a minute.

Yet the trouble was, his sword was sealed.

“Cocky, aren’t you? Can you fly at all?” one of them mocked.

Xu Xing smiled, channeled his energy into the branch, which floated to his feet. A marvel occurred—Xu Xing stood atop the branch and soared into the sky!

“What? Impossible! No matter, use the second technique—Great Luo Celestial Sword!”

Seeing Xu Xing soar, the nine hastily summoned the Spirit Root Tree, infusing the sword formation with energy. A crimson-gold sword emerged, its edge deadly, driving toward Xu Xing.

Xu Xing gripped the other half of the branch and pointed it at the formation.

“Ridiculous! Using a twig as a sword? Die!” the nine laughed.

“Who dies remains to be seen!”

This was an insight Xu Xing had gained in the desert: even without a sword, anything could become one—be it body, branch, or fallen leaf.

The crimson-gold sword streaked toward him, its power terrifying, while Xu Xing’s branch seemed utterly ordinary.

Yet a deadly sword aura saturated the air.

Branch met blade, and for a moment, neither yielded.

Fear flashed in the nine men’s eyes as they frantically drew energy from the Spirit Root Tree, pouring it into their formation.

The giant sword pressed down on Xu Xing with overwhelming force.

But then, Xu Xing clasped the branch in both hands, unleashing a thunderous strength from within. Veins bulged on his face as he roared, “Break!”

The nine dared not falter, channeling all energy into their formation, until the sword shone like the sun.

“Brothers, crush him!”

Boom.

The giant sword shattered, exploding into feathers of golden light. The heavens seemed to collapse as the earth was lit by countless dazzling plumes.

“How is this possible? He has no weapon, no sword—how can this be?”

Xu Xing floated level with the nine, his wounds healed, holding the branch that now radiated a suffocating sword aura. He cleaved down with it: “Because I am, myself, a sword that can pierce the heavens!”

“Insects, be gone!”

At that moment, Ziyan struggled to open her eyes and, seeing Xu Xing fighting bloodied in the sky, smiled through her tears.

A thunderous crash rang out, scattering the clouds, and the sun began to break through.

...

Many from Lantern City had gathered. When they arrived, all were astounded.

“What happened here? Is this chasm stretching hundreds of yards the source of that explosion? Was there a battle?”

“Why does the air feel so oppressive? What is this deadly sword aura?”

As some drew nearer, they saw a young man holding a girl in his arms, preparing to fly away on a sword.

Approaching the battlefield, faces turned pale—nine men knelt on the ground.

The nine had already breathed their last, still kneeling, broken swords planted in the earth as if in penance.

“Bad news! The Nine Blazing Swordmen are dead!”