Chapter Sixty-Three: The Rain of Swords

Mist and rain scattered, coalescing into a transparent sword of water. Xu Xing gave it a gentle wave, and the sword moved freely at his command. With this technique, he believed he could now stand on equal ground with the swordsman.

“I didn’t expect it, truly didn’t expect you to step into the ultimate realm. Quite an eye-opener. But you’re still unstable. The real gap between our realms isn’t something you can bridge with tricks like this.”

The swordsman smiled faintly, tapped the stone path with his foot, and vanished into the rain.

Xu Xing closed his eyes. Panic gripped him. The swordsman’s position was bizarre, as if he were everywhere, yet nowhere in the rain, something Xu Xing found utterly incomprehensible.

A cold gleam flashed toward him from behind. Instinct warned him, and Xu Xing flicked his hand back, dispersing the water sword he’d formed.

Sure enough, the swordsman was behind him, thrusting his blade at Xu Xing. In that instant, it seemed the swordsman lifted the rain itself, shaping it into a silver dragon hurtling forward.

“Burning Formula: Tranquil Wind.”

Fiery script burst from Xu Xing’s eyes, crashing toward the swordsman. A ringing sound echoed out, but Xu Xing’s burning formula was effortlessly pierced. Water sword in hand, he exchanged blows with the swordsman amid the downpour, each strike crackling through the rain.

Every attack from the swordsman radiated the powerful spiritual energy of someone at the late Foundation Establishment stage. Each thrust and slash seemed to carry the weight of ten thousand catties. After several rounds of fierce exchange, Xu Xing felt his hands tremble, a sharp pain shooting through them—the difference in cultivation was simply too great.

“Sword Rain Strike!” the swordsman shouted. His sword transformed into a shower of blades, each raindrop infused with sword intent as it fell.

Under this wild assault, Xu Xing’s body was soon covered in wounds. He repeatedly used secret arts to slow the flow of time, but to his frustration, the swordsman’s attacks were impossibly precise.

“An ant is still but an ant.”

Knocked back, Xu Xing lay in the rainwater, his sword of rain vanished. Slowly, he climbed to his feet. The swordsman approached at a leisurely pace, a wild grin on his face. Yet Xu Xing spoke calmly:

“Do you think only you can wield the sword? It’s true that your cultivation surpasses mine, but my swordsmanship is beyond your reach.”

The water pooled at his feet lifted like dust, pausing in midair before gathering once more into a sword of rain. This time, the blade was sharper and more dangerous than before—enough to astonish the swordsman.

“What is this? Impressive. You truly have stepped into the ultimate realm of the sword. Let’s see what you can do.”

The swordsman gripped his blade tightly, pointing it to the sky. In an instant, a bolt of purple lightning struck down from above, fury and boundless might surging into him.

Even Xu Xing was startled. Was the swordsman a lightning spiritual root cultivator? Could he draw the thunder from the heavens to empower himself?

Wasting not a moment, the swordsman became a storm, rain swirling at his command, and threads of purple qi flickered around his blade.

Facing his opponent, Xu Xing merely smiled. The water at his feet had already gathered again. Two roars tore through the night, shattering the silence.

A clash rang out as their swords met, and both men were thrown back dozens of meters. Xu Xing’s sword of rain vanished once more, but he could endlessly gather rain through spiritual energy to form another—it was a contest of endurance.

The swordsman grew serious, dancing wildly through the rain and unleashing a dazzling sword technique, infusing his weapon with a trace of purple light.

From afar, the spectators were left speechless in awe.

“This boy is too strong—how could someone at early Foundation Establishment reach the ultimate realm already? His future is limitless.”

“Not quite. He’s still different from a true master. True masters can forge weapons from nothing with a mere thought, without using any spiritual energy.”

“But did you notice the Azure Sun Swordsman’s blade? He infused it with spiritual energy directly. Most people can only use energy to activate a sword’s power, but he coats his blade with it, making it far sharper.”

The crowd’s chatter revealed new insights to Xu Xing. So the sword could be infused with spiritual energy? He’d never tried that before.

The sword came down again and again, attacking Xu Xing, who continuously formed swords of rain to block the onslaught. But gradually, the gulf in cultivation began to show.

Their reserves of spiritual energy were on completely different levels. The swordsman hadn’t even drawn upon his spiritual root tree yet—he hadn’t expended much energy at all.

This duel belonged to the swordsman. One misstep and Xu Xing would lose his life.

“Stubborn boy, struggle as you might, few can withstand an infused sword strike. But I must admit, I admire your tenacity. Don’t worry—I’ll be sure to bury you and that girl together.”

The swordsman’s arrogance was plain; for him, the battle was almost effortless.

Even though Xu Xing used temporal secret arts, the difference in cultivation, coupled with his lack of formal sword training, made his foundation unstable. Gradually, he found himself struggling.

His movements slowed. The swordsman seized the opportunity, leaping up, both hands gripping his sword, bringing it down like a blade of the moon.

Once more, Xu Xing gathered a long sword to block the attack. Dazzling light flared as the swords collided, a fierce shockwave rippling out, making the rain-soaked grass tremble and shedding droplets onto the earth.

Xu Xing was hurled hundreds of meters back, crashing through a tree as thick as three men. Blood spattered from his lips—he’d spent the last of his spiritual energy in that one strike.

By contrast, the swordsman was unscathed. For a moment, Xu Xing was at a loss.

“Your life is forfeit!”

The swordsman launched himself forward, blade aimed at Xu Xing’s neck. This strike seemed powerful enough to level a small hill.

All eyes closed, unwilling to witness such brutality. A metallic crash rang out, sharp and jarring. When the crowd opened their eyes again, they were stunned.

Several black and gold banners revolved slowly around Xu Xing.

“What’s going on? Does anyone know?”

“Look at those banners—they resemble the banners of the Nine Swordsmen, don’t they?”

“They really do. Could he have slain the Nine Swordsmen? For someone so young to possess such power—it’s chilling.”

“So what? He’s spent, a spent arrow. It’s useless now. The difference in cultivation is far too great. Don’t be fooled by the Azure Sun Swordsman being only late Foundation Establishment—he’s as strong as someone at peak Foundation. Understand the gulf between them now?”

“So this youth has just stepped into the realm of the master swordsman? He still hasn’t grasped its mysteries.”

With the truth dawning, opinions shifted. Some looked on in hope, while others’ eyes glinted with greed. Who wouldn’t want the bounty and a chance to break through to the Golden Core?

Amazed that he had survived the swordsman’s strike, Xu Xing stared at the seven banners circling him. He’d used them before, but always by actively channeling spiritual energy. How had they appeared by themselves now?

Could it be that the sword formation had become a spiritual weapon?

The seven sword banners spun rapidly around Xu Xing, densely inscribed runes blazing to life. The force they unleashed had already left the swordsman sprawled in the rain, unable to rise.

The sword formation floated upward, expanding to the size of ten meters across. For some reason, its power now exceeded even the Nine Swordsmen’s banners at full force.

Xu Xing looked down at the fallen swordsman, pride in his voice. “The contest is decided.”

Someone in the crowd shouted, “Look, that’s the first move of the sword formation—Sword Rain! And in this weather, its power is doubled! Maybe this upstart really will have the last laugh.”

The rain fell harder, sword qi within it sharper than ever. Even the leaves still clinging to the trees were pierced through, falling with the rain to the wet earth.

“Sword rain is falling—could it be that boy?”

Inside the inn, a man watched the stormy sky and let out a long sigh.