Zhang Qingshu lay sprawled on the ground, every inch of him screaming in agony. He could never have imagined that Murong An would show him absolutely no quarter, shattering the Four Symbols Sword Array he and his fellow disciples had set up with shocking, effortless ease. Of course, none of that was the main point.

The real devastation was that he had utterly disgraced himself in front of Junior Sister Meng Qingwei. Normally, Zhang Qingshu was the epitome of propriety on Wudang Mountain, unfailingly adhering to every rule. His most common descriptor had always been mature and steady, profoundly reliable.

Yet, upon meeting Junior Sister Meng Qingwei, he finally understood what it meant to have his heart flutter, what an electric shock felt like. Who could have foreseen that just as he found his footing, he would be beaten half to death by Murong An? The humiliation was absolute.

As Zhang Qingshu reeled from the shame, he noticed everyone—including Meng Qingwei and his own junior brothers—looking past him, toward the side. Following their gaze, Zhang Qingshu saw, seated at a table not far from the exit of a private room, a young man. It was unmistakably Lu Yuan.

Lu Yuan. Murong An. Though gravely injured, Zhang Qingshu’s mind was still sharp enough to grasp the root of the problem immediately.

Lu Yuan was the master of the Dark Sword Manor. Back when Li Yuanbai was still alive, Murong An had sent men to assassinate Lu Yuan, an attempt that Li Yuanbai uncovered. Li Yuanbai had been prepared to execute Murong An, but after years of service, a flicker of softness led him to let Murong An slip away.

This time, it was truly king against king. All surrounding eyes turned toward this nexus. Lu Yuan sat calmly, sipping wine and picking at strips of spiced beef.

Murong An’s eyes were spitting fire. This man—this was the source of his current fugitive misery and wretched state. He himself had been a high-ranking figure in the Dark Sword Manor.

That time, he had foolishly trusted Nangong Bai to carry out the hit on Lu Yuan, only for his subordinates to prove useless, leading to the assassination’s failure. The consequence was a disaster that nearly cost him his life at Li Yuanbai’s hands. He had barely escaped by exploiting the old master's moment of pity, only for the pursuit order from the Mount Hua Immortal Sect to follow immediately afterward.

Things had become far worse; he was forced to wander and flee everywhere, his former comfortable life gone, reduced to the status of a stray dog. Even common rogue cultivators were not as pitiable as Murong An. Then, hearing reports of his own wretched path contrasted with Lu Yuan’s continuous success fueled Murong An’s envy.

If the old man Li hadn't taken on a disciple before his death, the entire estate would have been rightfully divided among the four of them. Instead, he raised one boy, and now everything belonged to this whelp. Damn it.

Seeing Lu Yuan now ignited a fierce, specific jealousy. Le Yu clapped him on the shoulder. "Calm down.

These are trifles. Capturing Young Miss Zhong is the priority..." Hearing Le Yu’s reminder, Murong An nodded. Yes, capturing Young Miss Zhong was paramount.

Successfully apprehending her would earn a massive merit. Young Miss Zhong was a key figure in the Swordless Immortal Gate, one of the Four Great Immortal Sects of the Great Qin Kingdom. While her status wasn't quite second to none, it was certainly close.

And they were acting on behalf of the Scarlet Dragon Immortal Sect, another of the Four Great Sects of Great Qin. Capturing Young Miss Zhong would bring immense prestige to the Scarlet Dragon Sect. It was precisely because he was heading to the Great Qin Kingdom and had secured the powerful backing of the Scarlet Dragon Immortal Sect that he feared no one from the Wudang Sect.

Reportedly, the Wudang Sect was indeed one of the Great Qin immortal factions over five thousand years ago, but they lost a struggle and relocated to the Great Jin Kingdom, shrinking their influence considerably. Returning to the present, Le Yu’s prompt brought Murong An back to the main business. Right, he couldn't afford to quibble with Lu Yuan right now.

Naturally, he wouldn't offer Lu Yuan a kind expression: "Lu Yuan, we are currently apprehending a young lady. If you allow us a search, we'll let this incident go..." "And if I refuse?" Lu Yuan asked casually. "If you refuse, then we'll have to kill you first..." Lu Yuan's response played right into Murong An's hands.

He had been waiting for the 'no.' If Lu Yuan had agreed for the sake of the greater mission, Murong An would have had to let him go. Now that Lu Yuan refused, he had the perfect pretext to engage. He was inwardly thrilled: Lu Yuan, as the saying goes, you shun the path to heaven only to crash headlong into the gates of hell.

Murong An moved, his blade, the Dark Sword, already drawn and aimed directly at Lu Yuan. He was called Dark Sword Murong An, and his swordsmanship had indeed inherited fragments of Li Yuanbai’s true teachings. His mastery of the Twilight Sword Style was quite exceptional.

Murong An differed from the first three of the Four Sword Masters; they each possessed unique specialties. Murong An, however, was almost entirely trained by Li Yuanbai, learning the Twilight Sword Style specifically. Of course, due to various circumstances, Li Yuanbai never accepted Murong An as a formal disciple, choosing Lu Yuan instead.

This only intensified Murong An's anger, fueling a long-simmering jealousy that he, who had trained under the master, was surpassed by Lu Yuan’s apprenticeship. The Twilight Sword Style, when executed, was neither fast, nor slow, nor fierce, nor precise. Naturally, if the Twilight Sword Style were executed with speed, quickness, ferocity, and accuracy, it would signal a complete failure to grasp its essence.

As it stood, Murong An displayed this sword style masterfully. "Hero’s Twilight," "Vast Gloom," "Deepening Dusk," "Westward Sunset," "Ink Splash Dusk." Every move flowed from Murong An’s hands. This swordsmanship was undeniably exquisite, drawing praise from the onlookers.

Then, Lu Yuan raised his hand and drew his sword. Lu Yuan’s Yangwu Sword, upon exiting its sheath, did not employ his usual One Hundred and Eight Swords of Wind and Cloud, but instead mirrored Murong An, deploying the Twilight Sword Style as well. "Hero’s Twil—," "Vast Gloom—," "Deepening Dusk," "Westward Sunset," "Ink Splash Dusk." Every technique was manifested through Lu Yuan's blade.

Whatever move Murong An used, Lu Yuan countered with the exact same one. The two identical sword forms emerged from their respective blades. It was rare in a sword duel for opponents to use the same complete sword style.

After all, when everyone knows a set of techniques, it’s easy for the adversary to find exploitable weaknesses. When two duelists employ the same style, matching move for move, only two scenarios are possible: either they are merely sparring for amusement, or one duelist's mastery of the style is utterly superior to the other's. Otherwise, such symmetry would be impossible.

And now, the crowd realized that as Lu Yuan and Murong An executed the identical sequence of moves, Lu Yuan held the absolute upper hand. Incredible. Lu Yuan was winning.

Was his swordsmanship truly so far beyond Murong An’s? Murong An was consumed by rage and humiliation. He had always believed himself superior in strength; the old master must have been mistaken to accept Lu Yuan and reject him.

How could it be that after two hundred years of his own cultivation versus Lu Yuan's eleven, Lu Yuan, fighting one-on-one, was holding the advantage? Lu Yuan’s sword technique was far more refined than his own. Dammit, how could this be?

Murong An’s mind spun with doubt. He refused to believe his own innate talent was inferior; it must be that Old Man Li showered Lu Yuan with elixirs and passed on secret sword lore—it couldn't be that he was simply inferior to Lu Yuan. In truth, Li Yuanbai hadn't excessively favored Lu Yuan.

His teaching methods for Lu Yuan were no different than they had been for Murong An. The sole reason for not taking Murong An as a disciple was one thing: a flawed heart-nature. A disciple must possess an utterly righteous character.

A gasp rippled through the crowd. No one expected Murong An, who was at the eighth level of the Body Tempering stage—yes, the eighth level; he had advanced from the seventh during his long flight—to be put on the defensive by Lu Yuan. It was unbelievable.

Amidst the shock, there was also amazement: Lu Yuan was only twenty-one, perhaps, and already this formidable. Truly astonishing. At this moment, Le Yu, the cultivator from the Great Qin Kingdom standing nearby, flinched as he saw Murong An losing ground.

This young man was unexpectedly powerful. Le Yu wasted no time; he drew his own sword and plunged into the circular exchange. He had no interest in a fair one-on-one fight; his mission was capturing Young Miss Zhong, which required quickly neutralizing Lu Yuan to ascertain if the young lady was present.

Le Yu immediately unleashed the Scarlet Serpent Sword Style. The Scarlet Dragon Immortal Sect generally trains its disciples in this style, and when enough practitioners gather, they can form the Scarlet Serpent Sword Array. If this array reaches sufficient strength, it can evolve into the Scarlet Dragon Sword Array, whose fame is said to be on par with Wudang Sect's True Martial Seven Intercepts Array.

The Scarlet Dragon Sect also possessed the Nine Scarlet Dragon Strikes, rumored to conjure crimson dragons, up to nine in number, hailed as the paramount offensive technique in Great Qin. The Scarlet Serpent Sword Style Le Yu employed was incredibly insidious as he lunged toward Lu Yuan. Le Yu’s fire-attribute flying sword struck toward Lu Yuan.

While cultivators at the eighth level of Body Tempering could employ sword control for ranged attacks, given the proximity of the fight, such tactics were unnecessary. Lu Yuan’s Yangwu Sword parried, and Le Yu exchanged several blows with Lu Yuan, their swords clashing several times. This Le Yu was also an eighth-level Body Tempering cultivator.

Thus, the situation became Le Yu and Murong An, two eighth-level Body Tempering cultivators, double-teaming the single Lu Yuan. With another impact, Le Yu’s scarlet flying sword collided with Lu Yuan’s Yangwu Sword. Then, a sudden shift occurred: Le Yu's scarlet sword abruptly curved, aiming directly for Lu Yuan’s throat.

The flying sword was seemingly soft, capable of bending. The crimson blade was just about to strike Lu Yuan’s throat; a solid hit there would surely mean death. Meanwhile, Murong An increased his assault speed, coordinating with Le Yu, both aiming for a killing blow against Lu Yuan.