Chapter 129: Chapter 129

The sword cut through the air, and a momentum gathered along the blade — light as wind, shifting as cloud — no longer purely yielding, but hard and soft entwined, void and substance interleaving, serenity concealing a killing edge.

This was the true form of the Flowing Cloud Sword at Perfection.

Luo Qiance’s face twisted with alarm.

The thrust felt elusive — impossible to read, impossible to counter.

It looked like it was driving for the left flank, yet it might veer at any instant.

The sword-tip streaked forward like a meteor, punching through layer upon layer of saber-light. Under Luo Qiance’s horrified gaze, it touched down — lightly.

TAP!

Like a pebble dropped into a still lake, ripples spreading.

A piercing, penetrating force erupted from the sword-tip, and in a single heartbeat, the seemingly flawless saber-cage shattered to pieces.

The cage was broken!

“What?!”

Luo Qiance’s face contorted with shock and fury.

He didn’t have time to think — Shen Xiuhan was already sweeping his blade around for a second thrust.

Luo Qiance snarled, hauled his saber across his chest, and poured every last drop of qi-blood into a dense wall of steel. Impenetrable.

Useless.

CLANG!

The sword-tip struck the saber’s weak point on the left flank. Sparks flew like rain.

Luo Qiance felt a force like a bursting dam crash through the blade and into his arms. The tiger’s mouths of both hands split open with a wet SHRRK — blood streaming from the torn skin.

He grunted, face wrenching, and staggered back seven or eight steps.

Every footfall punched a deep print into the boards.

He came to a halt at the very edge, heels hanging over empty air, and barely — barely — held his ground. His face was dark with congested blood, qi-blood boiling.

Silence.

A silence like death.

Along the lakeshore, thousands upon thousands of spectators stared with bulging eyes, breath held, not a sound among them.

Luo clansmen, Mei Hall disciples, Changshui County fighters, every other competitor — all wore the same look of stunned disbelief.

After a beat of frozen quiet, the crowd detonated.

“Good heavens — he’s overpowering Luo Qiance head-on!”

“This is a direct-line Luo scion! The Luo clan calls him and Luo Tangyin ‘the Twin Prides of Luo’!”

“Fists and feet like a tyrant, swordplay like a god — is there anyone left in the Manifest Strength bracket who can match this Shen Xiuhan?”

“Senior Brother Shen — the light of Mei Hall!!”

Cries of astonishment spread like wildfire.

In the crowd, Luo Wancheng stared at the blue-robed figure on the platform. His face was white with horror, his lips trembling.

“He… he actually broke Second Brother’s Misty Rain Saber! How is that possible?!”

“Second Brother’s saber talent — even a Fury-Sea School Astral Strength elder once declared he’d surely achieve ‘saber gleam’ one day…”

“Even Elder Sister wouldn’t dare take that move head-on — she’d dodge it. A martial-hall disciple from the outer city — what gives him the right to break it?!”

Behind him, the clutch of Luo clan juniors traded glances. No one dared breathe a word.

Up on the viewing platform.

The rogue grin vanished from Zhao Zheng’s face for the first time.

He leaned forward, expression grave, studying the sword-bearing youth on the stage. Something turned behind his eyes.

“That sword path… it looks like Bixia Mountain Estate’s Flowing Cloud Sword.”

“The Colonel has a sharp eye. It is the Flowing Cloud Sword.”

Bai Qingcang’s sinister smile spread. His raspy voice grated like a cracked bell, his gaze lingering on Shen Xiuhan with open interest.

“That art is famously easy to learn and fiendishly hard to master. Even within Bixia Mountain Estate’s Sword Path, few ever reach Full Mastery.”

“Yet this boy has already found its essence. Given that degree of comprehension… it’s not impossible that he might one day achieve sword gleam.”

Sword gleam!

At those two words, Wang Zhidao’s eyelid twitched.

He studied Shen Xiuhan from crown to sole, slowly and thoroughly.

Then his gaze slid sideways — to Xiao Wu, who was cheering for Shen Xiuhan at the top of his lungs.

Wang Zhidao turned the jade thumb-ring on his finger, thoughts racing, his mind suddenly unsettled.

‘The Child of Destiny… could I have miscalculated?’

His eyes shifted between light and shadow, brow knotting tight. But he quickly dismissed the doubt.

‘No.’

‘This Shen Xiuhan’s sword talent is high, and his cultivation is exceptional among his peers. But set beside a monster like Xiao Wu, he’s still a step behind.’

‘Let it go.’

Wang Zhidao raised his teacup, took a calm sip. The composure returned to his eyes, though a calculating depth lingered.

‘Luo Qiance is spent. The Shen boy’s top-three finish is all but sealed. Once he enters the Dragon Blood Essence Pool… heh, no matter what, he’ll owe the Wang family a debt of gratitude.’

…

On the platform.

Luo Qiance steadied himself with effort. He looked down — the tiger’s mouths of both hands were split and bleeding freely.

Even his mid-tier treasure saber, the Myriad Rain, was shivering and whining in his grip.

He lifted his gaze to Shen Xiuhan. Nothing but shock remained in his eyes.

‘This man… is this terrifying?’

Shen Xiuhan held the sword level across his chest, breathing deep and steady, robe-hem drifting. His blue garment hadn’t collected so much as a speck of dust.

In the next heartbeat, he launched his counterattack without warning.

The Golden Vulture Soaring Wind Art burned like a furnace, qi-blood flooding every limb in an instant.

Shen Xiuhan stamped. His figure blurred into a phantom trailing a blue afterimage. Cold Granary’s frost-edge blazed, driving straight for Luo Qiance’s chest.

Flowing Cloud Sword — Flowing Cloud, Thousand Changes!

Sword-light like a bolt of white silk!

Now left, now right — killing intent concealed in every shift.

Luo Qiance had nowhere to retreat. The platform’s edge was at his back. He could only clench his teeth, lock both hands around the hilt, and swing a desperate cross-guard.

CLANG!

A deafening blast. Sparks showered like rain.

Luo Qiance’s arms screamed. It was like hitting a mountain.

SHUNK!

The recoil tore through his meridians. His throat tasted sweet, and a mouthful of blood burst from his lips.

Inside, Luo Qiance howled in anguished fury. Despair flooded him.

‘How can this boy’s body be this monstrously strong?!’

Shen Xiuhan’s gaze was flat, pitiless. He gave no quarter. Seizing the instant Luo Qiance’s focus wavered, his sword turned sharply.

Flowing Cloud Sword — Parting Clouds to Reveal the Sun!

The same thrust — yet the momentum was utterly transformed.

Where the earlier strokes had been ethereal and drifting, this one carried the finality of a spear piercing the sky.

“No!”

Luo Qiance’s face contorted. He hauled his saber back in a frantic block.

But the golden glint in Shen Xiuhan’s eye flared. In an instant, he read the gap. The sword darted like a viper’s tongue and struck the saber’s underbelly.

CLANG!

Under the violent shock, Luo Qiance’s fingers gave out. The saber flew from his hands and embedded itself in the boards.

Luo Qiance’s lips quivered. His face was white as paper. He stumbled backward, utterly spent.

Shen Xiuhan twisted at the waist, and another thrust followed like a shadow.

HISS!

Sword out like a dragon. Frost-light blazing.

The blade locked onto Luo Qiance’s heart. The tip drove forward — nowhere to dodge, nowhere to hide.

“It’s over!”

Despair filled Luo Qiance’s eyes. His body locked up. He could only watch the cold gleam tear through his outer robe as the icy point kissed his chest —

And struck the treasure armor beneath.