The black-clothed man was the Shadow. Of course, he was the Shadow.
He and Fan Xian quietly entered Dongyi. After arranging everything with the subordinates of the Overwatch Council, they disappeared. When Fan Xian charged into the Sword Hut, he was not there. Fan Xian knew what the head of the Sixth Bureau of the Overwatch Council would do once he saw Sigu Jian.
Suddenly, the Shadow appeared in the manor behind the body of the Master of the City.
Sigu Jian had massacred the manor again. No one knew how many people he had killed. Regardless of whether they were alive or dead, as long as his physical body existed, there would always be a shadow under the sunlight. The Shadow was hidden in these shadows.
To be able to hide from a Great Grandmaster's perception, suddenly appear in front of the three of them, and capture Sigu Jian's weakest moment, the Shadow was the most powerful assassin in the world. Without question, the cultivation of the Shadow, the most powerful assassin in the world, had risen to the pinnacle of his life.
Sigu Jian coughed up blood on the wheelchair. His entire body trembled. His body shrunk slightly, and his face was pale. Killing seven people with one strike made the Great Grandmaster, who had forcefully dragged it on for nearly three years after being heavily injured, feel a glimmer of fatigue. What consumed the most of his energy was Fan Xian's hands, which were imbued with Tyrannical zhenqi, on the back of the wheelchair.
From the moment he stepped into the manor, Fan Xian's intentions were in opposition to Sigu Jian's. Sigu Jian forcefully released his power and forcefully suppressed the will in Fan Xian's heart. However, Fan Xian was, after all, a ninth-level ace. Other than killing people, Sigu Jian still had to focus his thoughts on him and control his mind. It took too much time, so he couldn't help but feel a bit weak.
Most importantly, it was the injury he had received on Dong Mountain three years ago. Ye Liuyun's claw had stretched out like a dragon in the clouds and the Qing Emperor's earth-shattering Way of the Emperor's Killing Fist had heavily injured Sigu Jian, a Great Grandmaster, to the point that he was on the verge of death.
The Shadow had chosen this moment to strike. He had chosen the most decisive moment.
In his hand was an ancient sword that was as cold as autumn water. In an instant, the light of the sword lit up the entire manor. In the next moment, the stone steps seemed to become as sparkling and translucent as jade.
The shadow's toes stepped on these jade-like stone steps. With each step, he seemed to become a little brighter.
Occasionally, a few green leaves would fly up at this time, accompanying the autumn wind and rain sword in his hand, adding a bit of sternness.
Kill.
The ancient sword in the Shadow's hand pierced toward Sigu Jian's chest. This strike was extremely simple. There were no changes, no accumulation of power, and not even the slightest tremble. In the process of the high-speed thrust, the bright sword body was calm like autumn water, stabbing forward smoothly.
It was just a bend of the elbow, a flat wrist, and a thrust. It was the simplest sword move in the world.
Because it was simple, it was focused and powerful.
The shadow did not need to accumulate power, because he had been waiting for this sword for more than twenty years. He had been accumulating power for more than twenty years.
It was too fast. When Qingqing's leaves floated up, she was stunned to find that she had fallen behind the black-clothed man. It was so fast that the air in the manor didn't even have time to change after the ancient sword sliced through its body. It let out a whistling wind.
Because it was fast, the surrounding environment didn't have time to change. The courtyard was still silent. The only thing that changed was the position of the Shadow, the tip of his feet stepping on the jade steps, the light on his body, and the brightest sword at the front of the light.
The tip of the sword was only a foot away from Sigu Jian's chest. A thunderous strike.
…
…
In such a short amount of time, Fan Xian only had time to narrow his eyes a little. He recognized the sword in the Shadow's hand. When he had tried to assassinate the Emperor in the Hanging Temple, the Shadow had held this sword in his hand.
Fan Xian even felt a sense of familiarity with the Shadow's thunderous strike. Outside the Hanging Temple, under the tall building and against the golden chrysanthemums that covered the mountains and plains, the Shadow had once jumped out of the sun in a white robe and pierced straight toward the Emperor's face.
That day, the Shadow had been dressed in white like an immortal from the heavens. He had shone brilliantly. With the plain ancient sword in his hand, he had floated down.
Now, the Shadow was dressed in black and still held that plain ancient sword. The light on his body still shone wantonly, but it carried a coldness that came from the deepest depths of the earth. It was like a resentful spirit that had been imprisoned for tens of thousands of years and wanted to use this sword to release all of its resentment.
Fan Xian's hand continued to hold the little Emperor's waist. His pupils constricted slightly, but his body didn't have time to move. His heart was filled with shock. Stepping on the stone steps and crossing the green leaf, how unstoppable was this sword strike? How fast was it? It was so fast that even he couldn't react to it at all. It had even faintly broken through the limits of time!
The Shadow was the most powerful assassin in the world. He was the closest protector of the Overwatch Council's first and last masters in the night. After he escaped Dongyi, he had always been immersed in darkness and had never walked under the sun. Even when he was assassinating the Emperor in the Hanging Temple, that seemingly brilliant strike actually contained care and caution. If the strike didn't hit, he would immediately retreat.
And today's Shadow was completely different from the Shadow of the past. His entire being seemed to be immersed in darkness and negative emotions, but this sword strike was extremely open and aboveboard. His decades of cultivation were all condensed into this sword strike, and he didn't leave himself any path of retreat, any path of retreat!
He only wanted to advance. With boundless courage and determination, he chose to advance. He only wanted to send this sword into Sigu Jian's chest. At this moment, the Shadow was no longer an assassin. He was a swordsman, a vengeful swordsman, a swordsman worthy of respect and admiration.
…
…
The thunderous strike was softer than the wind, more traceless, and faster. It was more dazzling and shocking than lightning. This was the most powerful strike the Shadow could demonstrate. Regardless of whether it was Fan Xian, Haitang, or anyone else, sitting in a wheelchair and suddenly facing this strike, they would probably not be able to escape.
This was the first strike the Shadow had truly struck out in 20 years. It was a strike that had been tempered countless times with the river of time, resentment, and netherworld emotions.
In the final moment the tip of the sword broke through the air, it faintly reached another level. Just like what Sigu Jian had taught Fan Xian earlier, it could only be like this when one's heart was connected.
Nothing was faster than a person's heart. No one's heart was more determined, darker, and brighter than the Shadow's.
The darkness was in hatred and complicated emotions. The brightness was in a determination to disregard everything.
The muscles all over Fan Xian's body tightened. The Tyrannical zhenqi in his body circulated quickly. As soon as his heart reacted, he was going to take the little Emperor and escape this place. In front of such a strike, he had no time to react.
Sigu Jian could do it.
Although he was already at the end of his life, had been heavily injured for three years, and had slaughtered the manor of the Master of the City and used up a great deal of his energy, he was still a Great Grandmaster who could not be judged by common sense.
However, Sigu Jian's expression was not the same as it had ever been. His face was extremely pale, and his eyes were extremely bright. The right half of his face that had been shattered was like an ugly and terrifying god, emitting an awe-inspiring might.
Even a Great Grandmaster would not underestimate such a strike. However, it was difficult for a Great Grandmaster to move. He only had one hand left. It seemed that the only thing he could move was this hand.
Thus, Sigu Jian moved. Raising his left arm, he spread out his index and middle fingers four inches in front of his chest and pressed them together.
He used two fingers to clamp down on the thunderous strike.
His face became even paler. His eyes became even brighter, and his expression became even more solemn. The strike between his two fingers was still advancing.
Ah! The Shadow was like Sigu Jian's shadow. Sticking closely to the wheelchair, he let out a wild cry. Like he was crazy, crazy, crying, complaining, happy, and angry, he stepped on the path of escape 20 years ago. Holding the pain of his entire clan dying, his parents dying with him, he ruthlessly stabbed down.
With a pop, the ancient sword, as cold as autumn water, rubbed against Sigu Jian's protruding knuckles and made a squeaking sound. It carried a heart-palpitating charred smell as it forcefully broke through Sigu Jian's finger sword and pierced into Sigu Jian's chest.
The tip of the sword only entered two inches into the Great Grandmaster's body before it could move no further. Sigu Jian's eyes were already extremely bright. They were like two stars giving off light as they landed on the Shadow's equally pale face. His fingers were like two large mountains holding the Shadow's thunderous strike between the mountain rocks, unable to advance another inch.
There was a moment of pause.
The pale-faced Fan Xian gave a muffled grunt. Grabbing the waist of the little Emperor beside him, he flew up diagonally like a large bird. Breaking away from the back of the wheelchair, he sliced through the air and floated toward the tree beside the manor.
If he had remained behind the wheelchair, perhaps he would only be injured. The little Emperor would certainly die from having her meridians severed under Sigu Jian and the Shadow's double attack.
Floating toward the tree, Fan Xian forcefully turned his head in the air with a pale face. He then saw a scene that he would never forget.
…
…
Sigu Jian's face was very pale. The Shadow's face was also very pale. These two brothers had not seen each other since that rainy night in Dongyi. Now, they were tightly pressed together. Their cold faces reflected each other. It was not interesting. It only chilled one's heart. Their bodies were very close to each other. There was only a sword between them.
On Sigu Jian's chest, the tip of the sword brought out a spray of fresh blood as it stubbornly tried to burrow in. It was like this Great Grandmaster did not feel anything at all. He only looked at the Shadow with his bright and somewhat terrifying old eyes. The two fingers of his left hand held the sword steadily and terrifyingly.
Will, thoughts, just a glance. In an instant, the air in the courtyard of the City Lord's Mansion suddenly changed. It was as if countless wind blades had appeared out of nowhere, slicing through the air and emitting a 'chi chi' sound. They came from all directions, following a strange trajectory that could not be seen by the naked eye, and slashed towards the center of the city.
They sliced toward the Shadow's body.
The Shadow was still wearing the special robes of the Overwatch Council. This kind of clothing was a product the Third Bureau had developed for many years. Under the attack of the sword qi that filled the sky, it could only resist for a moment before it began to break apart weakly. Small holes opened up. The material of the clothing opened up like a baby's mouth.
Countless holes appeared on the Shadow's body in an instant. Blood began to seep out.
Sigu Jian's true counterattack was not outside his body. Rather, it was inside the Shadow's body. That powerful, cold, and bloodthirsty sword intent followed this finger and glance and mercilessly entered the Shadow's body, causing his internal organs to tremble at the same time. Fresh blood seeped out of his body and flowed out along his lips.
On the Shadow's pale face, blood flowed endlessly from his lips. It flowed and did not flow. It was as if there would never be a moment to stop.
However, the Shadow did not show a glimmer of fear. On the contrary, he smiled. A trace of a bitter smile rose to his pale and ordinary face. His laughter rang through the surroundings of the manor. There was a crazed sobbing in his laughter.
"Ah!"
The Shadow howled crazily like a wild beast crying in pain. He sent all the zhenqi in his body into the sword in his hand. He did not care at all about the pain on his skin. He only cared about the distance between the tip of the sword and Sigu Jian's heart.
A powerful wave of qi exploded between the two of them, shattering the leaves around the wheelchair into threads and turning them into nothing.
In the end, the wheelchair was not a person's legs. Following the Shadow's complete outburst, the wheelchair quickly retreated faster and faster. The sword between Sigu Jian's fingers was also moving at a very slow speed toward his body.
Sigu Jian's face grew paler and paler, and his eyes grew brighter and brighter. The Shadow's face also grew paler and paler. Fresh blood flowed from his lips faster and faster. A bloody path appeared on the ground.
What Fan Xian saw was this scene. Two pale people, one vomiting blood and the other silent, were carrying out the craziest and calmest killing. His hand involuntarily began to tremble. He didn't like Sigu Jian. Naturally, he should help the Shadow. However, if he wanted to attack, he would have already done so when he was behind Sigu Jian. Given Sigu Jian's crippled body, if Fan Xian and the Shadow, two powerful warriors, attacked at the same time, there was a chance of success.
The Shadow would not be as bitter, sorrowful, or painful as he was now.
However, Fan Xian still did not attack. He only trembled and coldly watched this scene. This had nothing to do with the agreement between the Qing Kingdom and Dongyi. It had nothing to do with Sigu Jian's past friendship with his mother, Uncle Wu Zhu, and Sir Fei Jie.
He had agreed to create an opportunity for the Shadow to take revenge, but he would not participate in the process of the Shadow's revenge. Although he didn't know what kind of past stories and secrets were behind the massacre of the Master of Dongyi's manor, he respected the Shadow.
The Shadow was a proud swordsman. At least today, he was not facing his elder brother as an assassin. The pride of Dongyi was the eternal fear and pain in the Shadow's heart.
If Fan Xian attacked now, the Shadow would not agree. Fan Xian understood this, so he chose to watch from the side, trembling as he watched.
…
…
With a clatter, the wheelchair finally retreated to the back of the courtyard. Under the stone steps on the other side, there was no way back. With such a high speed collision, the wheelchair immediately broke into countless wooden shards. Covered in blood, the madness in the Shadow's eyes flared. Finally, he pushed the sword in his hand forward another inch.
For this inch of distance, the Shadow had paid a great price.
Sigu Jian's lips trembled. He laughed in a strange and raspy voice. Amidst the laughter, he, who had fallen to the bottom of the stone steps, exerted strength in his fingers. The sword stuck in his chest broke with a crack.
The Shadow did not laugh. The tip of the sword broke in Sigu Jian's chest. He still held the broken half of the sword in his hand. It seemed that his momentum did not stop for a moment. The broken half of the sword followed the trembling tip of the sword in Sigu Jian's chest and stabbed down again, piercing deeply into Sigu Jian's chest.
From appearing behind the Master of the City's body to stepping down the steps, stabbing into Sigu Jian's chest, retreating 30 meters toward the wheelchair, and finally stabbing down with the broken sword, the Shadow's glowing thunderous strike was actually only one strike. It did not break. The unbroken sword intent continued to this day. It was the only strike.
In this life, the Shadow would only have one chance to use such a strike.
The broken sword, which was not sharp, pierced into Sigu Jian's chest. It was not smooth. On the contrary, there was an astringent feeling. It was as if it was cutting through flesh. It was very painful, very painful.
The Shadow seemed to be able to feel the other party's pain because he himself was also in pain. His entire body trembled in pain. He lowered his head and silently stabbed and cut.
Severing the past, the past from more than 20 years ago. At this moment, the shadow seemed to see many things. He saw that many years ago, that idiotic older brother of his had secretly built a small grass hut on a piece of wasteland on the outskirts of the city. Then, he had proudly said that this place would be the holy land of martial arts in the future.
He was still a child and looked disdainfully at the broken down grass hut. He watched the blind man and woman who occasionally entered the grass hut. One day, the child became interested in the sword. His idiot brother asked seriously, "Do you want to learn? If you want to learn, I can teach you. "
Learning the sword was a difficult and dry matter. The two brothers in the grass hut became idiots in everyone's eyes. Everyone said that perhaps the manor of the Master of the City had offended the Temple for there to be two idiots. No one in the manor paid attention to these two idiots. Perhaps something terrifying had happened at the time, but he didn't know. He was only a child.
Then, on that night, everyone died. The person the child hated died, the person he loved died, the cat and dog he raised died, his brothers, sisters, uncles died … Even his parents who loved him so dearly died!
Not a single person could survive.
Only his entire body trembled as he stood behind the curtains of the mansion. He looked at the bloody sword in his idiotic big brother's hand and the pair of expressionless eyes. He began to feel afraid because he was sure that if he did not leave, this idiotic big brother would definitely kill him.
That was perhaps the night Sigu Jian truly became a Great Grandmaster. It was also the night the youngest man in the manor began to flee for his life. From that night onwards, the Shadow became a shadow. He could only live in the darkness forever and never saw a glimmer of sunlight again.
His chest was filled with anger, hatred, resentment, and fear. He didn't dare sleep at night because each time he did, he always seemed to see that pair of expressionless eyes.
Thus, the Shadow's face grew paler and paler. He knew that if he couldn't kill that person, he could only spend the rest of his life in darkness. That person had become a sword saint and the Master of Dongyi. Each time he heard this news, he felt that he could forever be that blood-covered, trembling, and silent child.
Many years later, the sword that had accumulated 20 years of hatred, vengeance, and fear finally pierced into that person's body. This sword pierced through 20 years of time. Carrying incomparably complicated emotions, it finally tasted that person's blood. However, the Shadow was not completely free. His entire body continued to tremble because he found that there was still so much blood on his body.
Sigu Jian was still not dead.
…
…
Sigu Jian's body was also covered in blood. However, it was unknown which was his and which was his brother's. The blood of brothers could often be exchanged, but it shouldn't be exchanged like this.
The clothes on the two of them had been torn into countless pieces by the sword qi that crisscrossed the manor. They hung wretchedly on their bodies. Sigu Jian's eyelids drooped slightly as if he would soon be unable to open them. His small body, like the Shadow, began to tremble violently.
Sigu Jian's two fingers held the tip of the sword. Like lightning, he pulled it out and sliced toward the Shadow's neck.
The Shadow did not dodge. The fingers of his left hand formed a sword and pierced toward the bloody hole that had appeared after the tip of the sword had been pulled out.
A life for a life. It would not end until one of them died.
With a muffled slap, the two people's bodies separated abruptly. The Shadow was like a rock, kicking up a trail of dust. He quickly followed the bloody path back and crashed heavily into the stone steps. Coughing up blood endlessly, he found it difficult to stop breathing.
Sigu Jianji sat on the other side of the stone steps. There was half of the broken sword on his chest. The other half of the sword tip was held between his fingers. He looked coldly at the shadow on the other side of the stone steps. A trickle of blood slowly trickled down from his lips.
The courtyard of the Master of the City's manor sank into a terrifying silence.
Fan Xian and the little Emperor stood far away under a tree, watching the scene of brothers killing each other with pale faces. The little Emperor didn't know who the black-clothed man was, but she could see that his strength was extremely powerful. Otherwise, he would not have been able to last so long with Sigu Jian.
Fan Xian knew that in the end, it was the Shadow who had lost. Although Sigu Jian had reached the end of his rope, a Great Grandmaster was still a Great Grandmaster. As long as he still had a breath, he could still proudly stand at the pinnacle of martial arts in the world. Although he was constantly being blown by the mountain wind and was in constant danger of falling into the mundane world, in the end, he still stood firm.
However, the Shadow should feel proud. Fan Xian's eyes were slightly moist. He also felt proud for him. A ninth-level ace appeared powerful, but to be able to injure a Great Grandmaster into such a wretched state in a one-on-one duel was truly an exceptional performance.
In the last moment, Sigu Jian had already used his Great Grandmaster realm and powerful willpower to control the situation. It was clear he could have killed the Shadow. Why didn't he do so? Did he feel pity for his own brother? Fan Xian did not believe that this bloodthirsty and murderous Great Grandmaster would have such a warm feeling.
After the scene was silent for a long time, Sigu Jian suddenly asked in a raspy voice, "If we count it seriously, you should be the first disciple of the Sword Hut."
The Shadow lay in a pool of blood and didn't reply. He only looked at him emotionlessly and unconsciously. Sigu Jian coughed endlessly and said, "To be able to use such a strike as you did today, you should be proud."
A moment later, the Shadow suddenly opened his mouth and said, "Why?"
Why had Sigu Jian's temperament become deranged that year, killing in all directions, slaughtering his own clan, and not even sparing his own father and younger brother? This question had circled around the Shadow's heart for many years. Under these circumstances, he finally asked it.
Sigu Jian knew what he was asking, and so did Fan Xian. However, Sigu Jian did not answer the question. He only coldly said, "Those who stand in my way must die. You have followed us for a day and watched for a day. I had thought that you understood something by using that strike. Unexpectedly, you would still ask such a childish question."
"Little brother, you truly disappoint me."
After these words were said, Fan Xian's heart jumped. Sigu Jian had long sensed that the Shadow had been following him. Sigu Jian's teachings to him were not only targeted at him. He also hoped that the Shadow spying in the dark would be able to sense something from it.
The Shadow was also silent. His ordinary eyes stared viciously at Sigu Jian at the foot of the stone steps in the distance like a wild beast. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to debate what he should believe between the tragedy of the past and the words he said today. He only needed to confirm what he believed.
Fan Xian followed the Shadow's gaze and looked at the terrifying wound on Sigu Jian's chest. It was a blur of flesh and blood with a faint green light glowing on it like some kind of poison. Miraculously, it maintained the last signs of life in the organs that should have rotted to death.
This was the punch the Qing Emperor had given Sigu Jian on Dong Mountain. Sigu Jian should have died a long time ago, but he had been able to drag out his life until now. There had to be something hidden, particularly the terrifying wound on his chest.
Sigu Jian coldly used the last of his clothing to cover the wound on his abdomen. He glanced at the Shadow and then at Fan Xian. He said his last words, "A swordsman is a lethal weapon. Only saints can use it."
Fan Xian was silent. He immediately understood the meaning of Sigu Jian's words. A swordsman was a lethal weapon. Only saints could use it. Saints were originally emotionless.
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