The Humming Sword's Lament

As if understanding the giant’s roar and realizing it had fallen into a trap, the hiltless, grey short sword began to tremble violently in mid-air. It let out a piercing screech against the atmosphere, like a bird desperately seeking an escape.

The old man rested his hands on his knees, watching the short sword less than a foot from his brow. His gaze was as tranquil and soft as willow silk. However, those silken threads contained a terrifying power, tightly binding the sword that sought to flee, rendering it completely immobile. Wherever the old man’s gaze touched, the temperature plummeted instantly, and a thin layer of frost immediately coated the short sword. It struggled with all its might, a continuous hum vibrating through the air, yet it could not break free from the invisible shackles.

This hopeless struggle lasted for an unknown duration until the short sword finally let out a mournful cry and fell onto the bed of dry leaves, as if it had lost its very life. The moment the sword fell, a muffled groan of pain echoed from behind a tree in a secluded corner of the forest on the North Mountain Road, not far from the carriage convoy.

A flicker of relief passed through the old man’s calm eyes. Bracing his hands on his knees, his gaunt frame suddenly lunged from the carriage like a leaf caught in a gale. In an instant, he had blurred deep into the forest, appearing directly before the giant man.

The giant let out a thunderous roar, his hand—vast as a palm leaf—swinging down from above. His momentum was as fierce as a small mountain collapsing onto the old man’s frail form; it seemed that in the next heartbeat, that hand would easily crush him into a pile of bloody pulp.

The old man looked impassively at the massive hand descending toward his crown. His parched lips moved slightly, uttering a silent character, while his grimy hands crossed before his chest to form a hand seal.

As that silent syllable escaped and the seal was set, the old man’s tattered, dirty robe suddenly became incredibly rigid, every wrinkle smoothing out. It did not look as though he were wearing the robe, but rather as if the robe were propping up his gaunt body.

The palm strike came to an abrupt halt, trembling above the old man’s head but unable to descend further. The rest of the giant’s body also became sluggish and stiff. Blood began to seep from the corners of his eyes, his lower jaw quivered uncontrollably, and his face twisted in extreme agony.

The old man’s face was deathly pale, and he clearly looked strained. He laboriously raised his right hand toward the giant’s chest, his movements appearing agonizingly slow. The giant, currently suppressed by a strange power, could only watch helplessly as the old man’s hand drew closer inch by inch.

The old man’s hand pressed silently against the giant’s chest. Gusts of wind whistled from between his palm and the torso. With a dull *crack*, the giant’s stone-hard chest caved in, bones shattering and tendons snapping!

Borrowing the force of that impact, the old man recoiled swiftly. The forest wind whipped his robes with a loud *whoosh*, and in a flash, he was back beside the carriage, sitting cross-legged once more. From his advance to his retreat, it had been but a blink of an eye. The old man had gone and returned, his hands resting gently on his knees, his robe becoming wrinkled and dirty again as if he had never moved.

Deep within the forest of North Mountain Road, the giant finally regained control of his body. The slap that had failed to land struck the earth with a massive *boom*, shattering the ground into a deep crater, but it was all too late. He looked at the blood on his chest, let out a desperate roar of indignation, and collapsed like a falling mountain.

The old man sitting by the carriage glanced in that direction and began to cough violently, even splattering bright red blood onto his robes.

The guards, who had formed a blade array and fought desperately against the hiltless short sword, had bought him invaluable time. During that interval, the old man had calculated and seized the hidden position of the enemy Great Swordmaster, then used the short sword as a bridge, employing his Perception to directly wound the opponent from a distance. Completing this strike had taken a massive toll on his mental state.

Following that, his dash into the forest to kill the giant might have looked effortless, but it was actually an extremely risky move. The Perception within his Snow Mountain Qi Sea had been drained dry, leaving his body incredibly weak. Fortunately, the situation was now settled.

The battle at the entrance of North Mountain Road had ended. The grassland horsemen following the Princess had proven their loyalty, courage, and formidable combat strength. Their curved sabers had cut down all the enemy's suicide soldiers, but they had paid a heavy price. Those lucky enough to survive were covered in blood, lacking the strength to even stand. The number of guards still standing was even fewer.

The old man looked toward a nearby tree with a complex expression. As the night encroached, the entrance of North Mountain Road fell into silence. The bark of that great tree was peeling off in patches, like an old man aging rapidly in a short time; ominous age spots appeared, and the trunk showed signs of rotting and collapsing.

A middle-aged scholar in a green robe slowly stepped out from behind the great tree, a hollow, round sword case slung across his back. This man had a handsome and refined air; though he was older, if he were in the brothels or painting houses of Chang'an, he would certainly be described as "elegant." Unfortunately, his appearance now could hardly be called elegant. Countless tiny beads of blood seeped from the pores on his face and hands, turning him into a terrifying bloody figure. His green robe was also soaked with blood in many places; it seemed his body beneath the clothes was, like his face and hands, covered in those tiny beads of blood.

The middle-aged scholar raised his sleeve to wipe the blood and sweat from his brow. He looked at the old man by the carriage, then at the empty sword case beside the old man, and let out a soft sigh of admiration. "One wrong step leads to many more. To think that a Consort of the Haotian Dao's South Gate—Lv Qingchen—would actually... abandon the sword to cultivate Perception. If this news spreads, I wonder how many people will be shocked."

After a moment of silence, he said candidly, "What is even more unexpected is that at your advanced age, you could successfully enter the Dongxuan Realm. Does the Haotian Dao possess some secret technique?"

The old man named Lv Qingchen replied warmly, "Following the Princess north for a year, seeing the different landscapes and people of the grasslands, I felt some inspiration. Thus, my realm advanced slightly; it has nothing to do with my sect's Daoist arts."

Hearing this unexpected explanation, the middle-aged scholar was slightly stunned, seemingly realizing something, and remained silent for a long time. Then, he looked toward the guard captain, who was kneeling on one knee among the dry leaves, propped up by his blade, and spoke in a very serious tone:

"Since I entered the Great Swordmaster realm, I always believed that secular martial force could no longer resist me. Today, you and your subordinates have taught me a lesson." The middle-aged scholar cupped his hands in a salute to the heavily wounded guards and praised, "To have heroic and fearless soldiers like you is the pride of our Great Tang."

The guard captain nodded slightly in return, saying nothing.

"There are not many Great Swordmasters in Chang'an, yet I do not know you." Lv Qingchen looked at the blood-covered scholar and said, "The Academy is truly a place of crouching tigers and hidden dragons."

Upon hearing the words "The Academy," the survivors in the forest at the entrance of North Mountain Road could not help but show looks of doubt and shock. Could this assassination attempt on the Princess be related to the prestigious Academy?

Ning Que instinctively looked toward the maidservant beside him, only to see a pensive look on her face, though she clearly did not believe this claim.

The middle-aged scholar was taken aback, then shook his head sadly. "I didn't expect you to see through my origins. It's just that this unworthy junior truly does not dare to bring shame to the Academy... I am merely a foolish student who was expelled from the Academy."

He was covered in blood, his body swaying as if he might collapse at any moment. However, facing such a lone enemy, the surviving grassland men and guards of the convoy were incredibly tense, as if facing a formidable foe.

Ning Que was also very tense, but his emotions were more of excitement and restlessness. Having lived in Wei City for many years, having studied the *Taishang Ganying Tian* for many years, and having imagined these powerhouses through marketplace rumors for many years, today's battle at the entrance of North Mountain Road was the first time in his life he had witnessed a true battle of powerhouses.

The valiant generals of the Great Tang army were rumored to have their own overbearing methods, but the border had been peaceful for years, and a lowly soldier like him in a border town had no chance to witness such combat on the battlefield. The hiltless short sword flying through the fallen leaves, the brute strength of the giant uprooting mountains and smashing carriages, the Perception surging between the blink of an eye, wounding people from a distance—these incredible and miraculous aspects unfolded in quick succession, leaving his mind in turmoil.

The Academy, expelled, foolish student—these three terms reached his ears, causing him to calm down slightly, but then he felt his scalp tingle. A foolish student expelled from the Academy, with only a grey, hiltless short sword, could kill nearly ten of the Great Tang's finest guards. If that was the case, what kind of immense power would the actual students within the Academy possess?

"Probably one of Xia Hou's people," the maidservant beside him said coldly in a low voice.

Hearing the name Xia Hou, Ning Que's expression stiffened slightly, his body turning rigid for a few seconds before returning to normal. However, the gaze with which he looked at the battlefield had shifted from initial admiration to cold evaluation and calculation.

"You practice the Haoran Sword Dao, so it wasn't hard to guess you came from the Academy," Lv Qingchen said. "It's just a pity. Before being expelled from the Academy, you hadn't learned much from the Second Floor. Your sword's start already had the momentum of wind and thunder, yet you forcibly turned it into a realm of ghostly agility."

"Haoran Qi values integrity and lack of hesitation above all else. You have taken a crooked path; this choice is truly clever but meaningless. If you had met me twenty years ago in my prime, even if I hadn't entered the Dongxuan Realm, you would have been no match for me."

The middle-aged scholar bowed his head and smiled. The smile on his handsome face, covered in tiny beads of blood, looked incredibly tragic. As a Great Swordmaster who had stepped into the Dongxuan Realm, this scholar in green had accepted the commission to assassinate the Princess. After learning the strength of the old man beside her, he had thought it would be an extremely simple task.

However, the faction providing the intelligence did not know that the old man beside the Princess had entered the Dongxuan Realm on the grasslands. Even more shocking was that this South Gate Walker of the Haotian Dao had chosen to abandon the sword for Perception. Even so, tonight shouldn't have been entirely without a fighting chance; it was just that this Great Swordmaster hadn't expected the Great Tang guards by the carriage to cause him such trouble, allowing Lv Qingchen to calculate his position.

To have one's position calculated by a powerhouse of the same realm, especially a Will Master, is a very dangerous thing. Lv Qingchen first controlled his sword shadow, then used the short sword as a bridge for his Perception to wound him. Facing a Will Master with the fastest killing speed, he had no way to respond; the opponent's Perception directly invaded his Snow Mountain Qi Sea, shattering his internal organs and causing blood to gush out.

Today, he was destined to die at the entrance of North Mountain Road. Naturally, he didn't care about the old man Lv Qingchen's remarks. But even in death, there were things he was still compelled to complete.