87: Now that Mu Dao Ren is dead, who dares to say that he is not the old knife holder?

“Hiss—!”

A chorus of gasps, like countless cold snakes coiling at once!

Daoist Shi Yan clutched his chest, a wrenching pain, knowing that before this sword strike, whether Daoist Mu was Old Handle of the Saber was uncertain, but after this sword strike, he was Old Handle of the Saber.

No one would dare to gainsay it.

Great Master Tiejian’s fingers, which were twirling prayer beads, suddenly tightened, crushing the hard sandalwood beads.

Flying on Water, Gao Xingkong, Eagle Eye Lao Qi, and others were even more horrified, a chill shooting from their tailbones straight to their scalps!

What did they see?

They saw nothing clearly!

They only felt a Soul-freezing killing intent descend abruptly, and then, that sword light was already there!

One sword!

Just one sword!

The Wudang elder, the top Revered Master who had hidden his true strength, Daoist Mu, had fallen!

A drop of blood, suspended at the tip of the Guhong Sword, gently fell, hitting the ground with a distinctly clear sound.

“Gulp…”

Someone swallowed hard, the sound exceptionally clear in the profound silence.

“Dead… Junior Martial Uncle is dead just like that?”

A young Wudang Disciple’s voice trembled, as if unable to comprehend what had just happened.

“What kind of sword technique is this… What kind of lightness skill is this… What kind of Realm is this…”

Flying on Water’s face was ashen, his body trembling uncontrollably.

His lightness skill was rare in the world; he could move across water like a flying bird, yet in front of that sword light, he felt his proud speed was as slow as a snail!

“Fast? No… not just fast!” Great Master Tiejian’s voice was dry and hoarse: “It is ‘Intent’ arriving, ‘thought’ moving and ‘reaching,’ it is within ten zhang, one person is an army!”

Ximen Chuixue’s eyes, which had been closed, had opened the moment Lu Jiuyuan drew his sword.

At this moment, in his cold eyes, an unprecedented, pure to the extreme brilliance and fanaticism erupted!

Like the brightest star in the night sky!

He stared intently at Lu Jiuyuan, at the lowered Guhong Sword, his body trembling slightly with excitement.

It was an extreme longing and Battle Intent at seeing an even higher Peak!

“Good! What a ‘single sword strike, and heaven and earth are desolate and cold’! This sword strike should be the Peak of this world!”

Ximen Chuixue’s voice remained cold, yet it carried an uncontrollable fervor.

Lu Jiuyuan was oblivious to all the gasps, horror, awe, and fearful gazes around him.

He slowly raised his left hand and reached into his embrace.

This time, what he took out was the soft-feeling silk handkerchief embroidered with the imperial ‘Needle Sword Nine Characters’ emblem.

His movements were still elegant, with a cold sense of ritual.

He meticulously and carefully wiped the blade of the Guhong Sword.

After cleaning the blade, he flicked his wrist and placed the handkerchief over Daoist Mu’s face!

He softly said, “Battle King Guan Tianwu, come out and speak!”

Guan Tianwu, who had been trying to keep his body low and his presence inconspicuous, instantly turned pale upon hearing this.

The area around him instantly cleared.

Lu Jiuyuan took out another handkerchief from his embrace and wiped away the blood about to spill from the corner of his mouth.

Everyone present saw a streak of crimson on the handkerchief.

A heart suddenly settled; he too could be injured, he too could die, Old Handle of the Saber had injured him… He was neither a god nor an immortal… just a little more powerful, that’s all!

Guan Tianwu reluctantly cupped his fists: “Sword Saint, may I ask what you wish to command me for?”

“Battle King Guan Tianwu, Ruthless Du Tiexin, Head of the Disciplinary Hall of Youling Villa, you explain, who is Old Handle of the Saber?

And who was the one who died by Ximen Chuixue’s sword?”

Guan Tianwu’s face grew even paler, his hand gripping his saber continuously sweating. Finally, he looked up, met Lu Jiuyuan’s eyes, and asked: “If I tell the truth, will you kill me?”

“Yes!” Lu Jiuyuan replied with certainty.

“Good, I’ll speak, but I have one request!”

“What request?”

“I will tell you everything I know. After you kill me, the cloth covering my face must be a brocade handkerchief! Not that tattered white handkerchief.”

Such a request was truly heard for the first time. Lu Jiuyuan pondered for a moment, then nodded.

“Granted!”

The clean reputation that Daoist Mu had protected until his death, was thus sold by Guan Tianwu for a brocade handkerchief.

“The Sword Saint is right, Shi He, who died by Ximen Chuixue’s sword, was not Old Handle of the Saber, but Gou Hun Messenger!

Youling Villa was originally founded by Daoist Mu and his Disciples; they did not reveal their true names, using codenames to hide their identities.

Wandering Soul Zhong Wugu, Phantom Ye Lingfeng, Gou Hun Shi He… I just didn’t know that Cousin was Master Gusong, and General was Flying Lion Dragon Meng!

Dragon Meng loves meat, Cousin loves…!”

“Alright, that’s enough said!”

“Go up there, accept your death peacefully. I’ll make sure that the brocade handkerchief is placed over your face by Lao Jiu.”

Lu Xiaofeng suddenly appeared beside him, directly interrupting his words and patting his shoulder.

Guan Tianwu looked at Lu Xiaofeng with a strange expression, but did not refute, instead, he obediently walked towards Lu Jiuyuan with his saber.

“Battle King Guan Tianwu! Seeks guidance from the Sword Saint!”

And the surrounding renowned figures were not too shocked; having experienced so many upheavals, they were already mentally prepared.

Not to mention that Daoist Mu was Old Handle of the Saber, even if he wasn’t, even without Guan Tianwu’s explanation, he was already Old Handle of the Saber!

Among all those present, the most heartbroken by Guan Tianwu’s words was Wudang Sect Head Daoist Shi Yan.

“Phantom Ye Lingfeng… Gou Hun Shi He… Wandering Soul Zhong Wugu…”

Each and every one of these individuals was a top Revered Master in the world; Shi He’s martial arts could rival Ximen Chuixue, Zhong Wugu had directly established Black Tiger Hall in the north, and was known as one of the ‘Two Jades of the Northwest’ alongside Jade Rakshasa.

All of them were the world’s top Revered Masters, yet all of them had turned against Wudang.

Because Wudang’s talent was dwindling and there was a gap between generations, he had wanted to cede the position of Sect Head to Daoist Mu.

Now it seemed that far from talent dwindling, there was an abundance of talent, but due to one person’s selfishness, it had led to the current desolate outcome.

Wudang’s century-old reputation, its glorious prestige, was now left with only a few small fry.

“Pfft!” Shi Yan suddenly spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, and his entire body fell backward.

“Sect Head!”

“Revered Master!”

Several Personal Disciples rushed forward to support him, and the area in front of the hall descended into chaos.

Great Master Tiejian sighed deeply, closed his eyes, clasped his hands, and softly chanted Buddhist scriptures.

Flying on Water, Gao Xingkong, and others exchanged glances, their expressions complex and difficult to describe, with lingering fear from Lu Jiuyuan’s inhuman sword strike, and a touch of melancholy like a fox mourning the death of a rabbit.

Anyone with discerning eyes could see that Shi Yan’s Lifespan was nearing its end, and Wudang’s decline was already a foregone conclusion.

A full hand of good cards, ultimately played into such a state, pitiful, lamentable!

Guan Tianwu took a deep breath, tightening his grip on the Hundred Victories Saber that had accompanied him for half his life.

“Sword Saint! This Guan… has arrived!”

No superfluous words, no probing.

Guan Tianwu knew deeply that any flourish was futile before Lu Jiuyuan.

Being allowed to step onto the stage was an opportunity for him, an opportunity to display himself, an opportunity to witness the world’s Peak.

He suddenly took a step forward, the blue brick on the ground shattered, and his entire Aura instantly surged to its Peak!

It was a tragic killing intent, honed through a hundred battles and countless torments!

He gripped the hilt of his saber with both hands, the blade pointing diagonally towards the ground, dragging a mark on the earth.

“A hundred battles, no retreat; one saber, severs the Soul! Please, Sword Saint, evaluate!”