Chapter 37: A Bitter Struggle

"Ha! To think that two remnants of the Divine Dragon Sect would have such good fortune; not only did you survive that great disaster, but your cultivation has also made such rapid progress! However, your luck ends today!"

The Old Sword Saint’s expression was cold and grim as he drew the precious sword from behind his back. It was a King-grade weapon. The blade was as white as snow, radiating strands of chilling light. As he gripped it, the surrounding air suddenly grew heavy. It felt as though countless tiny sword auras were slowly brewing within the atmosphere. The temperature plummeted.

The disciples of the Sword God Sect nearby watched with fanatical expressions as their master unsheathed his blade. The Old Sword Saint was the spiritual monument of the Sword God Sect—a god in the eyes of every disciple.

Inside the carriage, Ye Yun watched the unfolding scene quietly, his expression calm. This Old Sword Saint truly possessed a unique mastery of the sword path. For Jun Moxiao and Luo Li, this would undoubtedly be a grueling battle. But that was for the best; it was a form of tempering. After all, both of them had been stuck at the tenth level of the God-Shaping Stage. If the Old Sword Saint acted as their sparring partner to refine their skills, it would surely be of immense benefit for their eventual breakthrough to the Divine Bridge Stage.

Hearing the Old Sword Saint’s words, Jun Moxiao’s eyes turned bloodshot. His body trembled with agitation as he spat on the ground and cursed, "You old immortal, so it really was you behind everything!"

"A mere remnant of the Divine Dragon Sect dares to insult me?" The Old Sword Saint was incensed, his anger boiling over. He slashed at Jun Moxiao with a single stroke. The sword aura was earth-shattering; it flickered across the void and arrived before Jun Moxiao in an instant.

Jun Moxiao was caught off guard. The Old Sword Saint’s speed was simply too fast. If he were not a peak tenth-level God-Shaping expert, he likely wouldn't have even had the chance to draw his own blade. In a rush, Jun Moxiao struck back while simultaneously unleashing the Divine Dragon’s Nine Transformations footwork.

The two blades collided, and Jun Moxiao was sent flying by a massive force. He transformed into several afterimages in the air, dissipating the momentum before landing on the ground. His shoulders swayed slightly, and blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. He had suffered minor injuries from their very first exchange.

"Junior brother, are you alright?" Seeing this, Luo Li rushed over.

Jun Moxiao wiped the blood from his lips and shook his head. "Senior sister, this old thing is very powerful. We must be extremely careful."

Luo Li nodded with a solemn expression. Her strength was three parts weaker than Jun Moxiao’s. If she were to face the Old Sword Saint head-on and take a direct blow, she would likely be even more severely injured. However, their greatest skill was not sword technique, but footwork. Years of fleeing had brought their Divine Dragon’s Nine Transformations to a high level, and with the guidance of their ancestor along the way, their mastery of this movement technique far surpassed their sword skills.

"As expected of Master; the boy vomited blood the moment he struck," Zhao Wuji thought to himself with delight. Their master, the Sword Saint, had been invincible in the Guyue Dynasty for a century, unrivaled among his peers and even capable of killing those at higher levels.

"Our patriarch is invincible!"
"He injured that boy with just one strike!"
"Too strong!"

The surrounding disciples of the Sword God Sect looked on with fanatical fervor.

*This boy... his body is incredibly strong!*

Unlike his disciples, the Old Sword Saint felt a sudden jolt of shock. He had used half his strength in that strike, yet he hadn't expected the boy to merely trickle a bit of blood from his lips. It was completely contrary to his expectations; he had assumed the strike would at least leave the boy severely wounded or unable to stand.

The Old Sword Saint stepped forward, waving his blade and sending two more piercing sword lights through the air. Luo Li and Jun Moxiao had been prepared; the moment he moved, they activated the Divine Dragon’s Nine Transformations. They turned into a dozen dragon afterimages, weaving through the air and narrowly dodging the lethal blow.

"The footwork of these two remnants... it is impressive indeed!" The Old Sword Saint, a man who knew quality when he saw it, nodded to himself. He recalled the people he had sent out previously—they were stronger than these remnants, yet they had struggled to capture them. It was all thanks to this unique footwork.

With a sinister smile, the Old Sword Saint suddenly carved out an afterimage, his sword techniques flowing like a torrential river as he pressed the attack. The three of them began to clash in mid-air.

Although the Old Sword Saint’s movement was formidable, it was still a notch below the Divine Dragon’s Nine Transformations. He used his footwork merely to keep pace with them; his true killing intent lay in his blade.

Sword lights flew from all directions. Luo Li and Jun Moxiao dodged and counterattacked, but every collision sent a shock through their bodies as if they had been struck by lightning. After only a dozen exchanges, both had sustained various injuries, coughing up large mouthfuls of blood. Luo Li, in particular, had been struck; a long, narrow wound had been carved into her left shoulder.

Ye Yun observed the battle, his face as still as an ancient well, showing no sign of movement. He tapped lightly into the void. The aura of the robes worn by the two youths surged, instantly rising to the Imperial grade. At the same time, their swords also ascended to the Imperial level.

The aura of Imperial-grade treasures filled the air. The Old Sword Saint paused mid-strike, his eyes burning with greed. These two little ones were truly blessed with great fortune. Their robes and swords were actually Imperial-grade, merely masked by hidden auras. He cared little for the robes, but the swords in their hands made it hard for him to contain himself. He had studied the sword for years, yet his own weapon was only a top-tier King-grade blade. He had long yearned for an Imperial-grade divine sword.

To think that the remnants of the Divine Dragon Sect, whom he had hunted for centuries, would today present him with two Imperial-grade swords! His heart was filled with wild ecstasy. He had to seize them.

"The Ancestor has unsealed our gear again!" Luo Li and Jun Moxiao felt a surge of joy. With their Imperial-grade robes and weapons, their combat power had risen once more.

The Old Sword Saint, driven by his burning desire, launched a fierce attack to claim the prizes. Waves of sword light howled, enveloping them from all sides. Jun Moxiao and Luo Li faced a massive crisis, taking dozens of hits in succession. Even with the protection of their Imperial robes, the immense force of the blades caused their blood to churn, forcing them to vomit blood repeatedly.