Chapter 119: The sword saint strikes

Chapter 119: The sword saint strikes

The moment the Sword Saint’s aura erupted, the world itself seemed to tremble.

That dreadful sword intent surged outward like a tidal wave, invisible yet crushing. Roof tiles quivered, windows shattered, and the cobblestones beneath their feet groaned as if bearing the weight of mountains. Even the air grew sharp, filled with countless formless blades that bit into flesh and soul alike.

"This... this is sword domain..." Black Tiger’s face twisted in horror. His bravado cracked, memories flashing in his mind — years ago, as a young mercenary, he had once glimpsed this exact aura from afar, when the Sword Saint cut down a horde of demonic beasts singlehandedly. It had been an image branded into his bones.

And now, that nightmare had returned.

"You... you are the Sword Saint! But how... how could you have recovered your strength?!" His voice broke, sweat rolling down his forehead even as his qi flared in panic.

The men of the Black Wolf Guild shuffled back unconsciously. The arrogant jeers they had spouted earlier were gone; now their faces were pale, eyes wide with the instinctive terror of prey facing a predator they could not hope to match.

"Too late to run."

The Sword Saint’s voice was quiet, but it rolled across the street like thunder. His eyes gleamed with a cold, cutting light, and every step he took pressed down on the hearts of those before him.

"Capture him!" Black Tiger roared, desperation seeping into his fury. His body surged with crimson qi, and his arms twisted unnaturally, his fingers lengthening into monstrous claws shimmering with condensed energy. With a savage howl, he lunged forward, slashing at Feng Yun directly.

He knew that retreating wasn’t option anymore, he can’t run away from the sword saint. Maybe if he manage to capture Feng Yun, he might able to save his life.

The claws tore through the air, leaving trails of burning qi. The strike was strong enough to rip apart a boulder — but before it could touch Feng Yun, a flash of silver cut across the space.

Clang!

The Sword Saint’s blade intercepted the claws, sparks and qi waves exploding outward. The ground beneath them cracked open, stone flying in all directions.

Hu San staggered back, his arm trembling violently. A line of blood spurted from his forearm where the sword had pierced straight through the layer of qi protection.

The Sword Saint’s gaze was like a frozen abyss."It is time for the world to know..." he whispered, his voice carrying to every corner of the street. His sword lifted, glowing faintly under the moonlight. "...that I, the Sword Saint, have returned."

He stepped forward.

That single step carried the weight of mountains. Sword qi gathered behind him like a vast ocean, pressing down on everyone present. Members of the Black Wolf Guild stumbled to their knees, unable to breathe.

The sword saint thrust forward — precise, simple, without flourish.

Puchi!

The blade slipped past the tiger phantom and sank into Hu San’s chest. Blood spurted, staining the ground. Hu San’s roar twisted into a scream as he was driven back, his knees hitting the cobblestones. His phantom tiger shattered into fragments of qi, scattering like smoke in the wind.

The Black Wolf Guild members gasped.

"The Vice Guild Master—!""No... impossible..."

Their morale shattered instantly.

But the Sword Saint’s slaughter had only just begun.

His blade moved in arcs of moonlight, each swing tracing silver lines through the air. Where the sword passed, bodies fell — throats slit, chests pierced, limbs severed. The guild members tried to scatter, some drawing weapons, others turning to run. But the sword intent wrapped around the street like a cage; no matter which direction they fled, the invisible blades cut them down before they took three steps.

Screams echoed. Blood painted the cobblestones red.

Feng Yun stood still, his spear resting in his hand but never raised. His sharp eyes observed the battle closely, his heart calm. He had no need to interfere. The Sword Saint’s restored strength was overwhelming, a reminder of what a true powerhouse meant in this chaotic world.

’So this is the level I must reach,’ Feng Yun thought coldly, his grip tightening on his spear.

Hu San, clutching his bleeding chest, glared up at the Sword Saint in despair. "You... you won’t be alive too long either; my brother will avenge me!" His words ended in a cough of blood.

The Sword Saint’s eyes narrowed.

With a final thrust, his sword pierced Hu San’s heart. The man’s eyes widened, disbelief frozen in them as the last spark of life faded away.

The guild members froze. Their leader had fallen. Their will to fight was gone.

"Mercy!" one shouted desperately, dropping his weapon.

But the Sword Saint did not grant mercy. His killing intent surged once more, and the silver arcs of his blade cut them down one after another.

Within minutes, silence claimed the street.

Only the dripping of blood and the faint rustle of wind remained. Bodies lay scattered like broken dolls, the red pooling around them gleaming under the moonlight.

The Sword Saint exhaled slowly and sheathed his sword. His expression was unreadable, his aura once again restrained, as though he were just a tired old man.

Feng Yun calmly wiped his spear clean of the few drops of blood that had splattered onto it, then turned without a word, walking back toward his mansion.

The Sword Saint followed, his footsteps steady, leaving behind only the stillness of death.

Behind them, the street remained still, the scent of iron filling the night.

By dawn, the city was buzzing.

The Black Wolf Guild’s vice guild master, once one of the strongest in Black Plain City, was gone in a single night.

Some whispered Feng Yun was backed by a hidden sect. Some whispered Feng Yun was a descendant of some big shot. Even the madman sword saint is willing to follow him. But all agreed on one thing — Feng Yun was no ordinary person.

The scent of blood still lingered faintly in Feng Yun’s nostrils as he returned from the massacre. Though he had wiped his spear clean and the Sword Saint’s blade gleamed spotless, the memory of broken bodies strewn across the cobblestones clung stubbornly to the night.

They walked in silence, their footsteps echoing down the quiet streets. Lanterns swayed on poles, their light trembling like fragile flames against the weight of what had just transpired.

The Sword Saint finally broke the silence."The Black Tiger is gone. But you know what this means. His elder brother Hu San will not sit quietly."

Feng Yun’s lips curled faintly, his voice low and calm."Let him come. His fate will be no different."

The Sword Saint glanced at him, and though his expression was as still as stone, a faint flicker passed through his eyes — approval, perhaps, or caution.

The two parted ways near the corner street. The Sword Saint walked toward his own courtyard, muttering softly as his hand brushed his sword hilt."Too long has this city rotted. Perhaps it is time someone clear this city’s filth."

Feng Yun, however, turned toward his mansion. The night was deep, stars scattered thinly across the heavens, and the lanterns outside his gates glowed faint gold.

As he stepped closer, the Sword Saint suddenly halted. His brows furrowed, his senses stretching wide."Wait."

Feng Yun glanced at him. "What is it?"

The old man’s face darkened slightly. "I am sensing a strong aura... within your mansion."

Feng Yun stilled. He didn’t recognize hostility in the feeling, but his instincts sharpened nonetheless. Without a word, he quickened his steps, the Sword Saint keeping pace.