Chapter 36: The Ninth Sword

There was no denying that every sword within this sword case was truly world-class. The four on the left were suited for both attack and defense, while the four on the right seemed dedicated solely to offense.

“I have a sword! The Flood Dragon Emerges from the Sea to Topple Yellow Court!!”

Sword Intent surged forward, Chen Changsheng felt dazzled. Come to think of it, this was his first time encountering a swordsman from the Jianghu.

‘Is this what Sword Intent is…’

The Flood Dragon soared. Sword Intent propelled Sword Qi, wrapped within Qi and Blood, striking towards Chen Changsheng with sharp killing intent.

This sword was extraordinary.

However, controlling flying swords demanded significant mental energy from the wielder. A mortal might be helpless before such a technique, but for Chen Changsheng, a single thought was enough to seize control.

Let alone the fact that this sword could fly solely by borrowing the Magical Power contained within one of his hairs.

“Ding.”

A crisp sound.

Chen Changsheng placed a finger against the tip of the Flood Dragon sword. Just like before, the sword stopped moving once more.

“Disperse.”

With a single Divine Decree.

The entwined Sword Qi and Sword Intent shattered completely at that moment.

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“Pu.”

Yan Bei’an tasted copper in his throat. A mouthful of blood sprayed out.

One knee hit the ground. He clutched his chest, barely able to hide the shock in his eyes.

Yan Bei’an stared at the Green-Robed Gentleman before him. A sudden possibility occurred to him.

“You are no Martial Artist!!”

Chen Changsheng blinked. “It just dawned on you?”

Yan Bei’an staggered to his feet, his expression grim. Inside him, his Qi and Blood had scattered; his Sword Intent couldn’t coalesce after that one word from the gentleman just now.

He also understood that in his current state, facing this person was impossible.

“If we’re not fighting anymore, can we talk properly?” Chen Changsheng asked.

Yan Bei’an remained silent, finding the choice difficult.

He still had one last sword technique. Using it might offer a desperate gamble, but even if he won and survived, all his martial prowess would be ruined.

“So you still want to fight?”

Chen Changsheng seemed perplexed. “Are all of you Martial Artists this unreasonable? Draw swords at the slightest disagreement? Did I say I wanted your life?”

Ultimately, Yan Bei’an chose not to risk the worst.

He withdrew his Blood Qi and Sword Intent, calming down.

“What do you want to talk about?” he asked.

Hearing this, Chen Changsheng smiled slightly. He pointed at the sword case. “Let’s talk about that sword case. And let’s talk about my sword.”

He took a few steps forward, closing the distance to Yan Bei’an.

Yan Bei’an instinctively shifted, placing the sword case behind him, shielding it from Chen Changsheng.

Chen Changsheng glanced at him. “You managed to call forth five swords. That likely makes you invincible in the Mortal World, doesn’t it?”

“Nine swords?”

Yan Bei’an looked confused by this question.

“Hmm?”

Seeing Yan Bei’an’s puzzled expression, Chen Changsheng suddenly understood.

“You didn’t know?”

Yan Bei’an frowned. “What do you mean?”

Chen Changsheng grasped the situation. “Thinking about it, it makes sense. When that person gave you the sword case, they probably didn’t mention there was a ninth sword inside.”

Yan Bei’an studied him. The words didn’t seem like a lie.

Could there truly be a ninth sword?

Why had he never known about it in these two years?

Chen Changsheng pointed at the case. “The ninth sword is right in the center. Open the outer iron plate, and you should see it.”

Yan Bei’an turned his gaze towards the sword case beside him. He looked at the iron-covered section dividing the two sides in the middle. An impulse to open it welled up inside him.

“However, there’s one thing I should warn you,” Chen Changsheng said. “If you take out that middle sword, this sword case is worthless. Forget about ever using the flying sword technique again.”

Yan Bei’an seemed to believe him now. “Why?”

“The other eight swords in this case are forged from ordinary metal. They hold no Blood Qi or spirit resonance. How could they perform the flying sword technique?”

Chen Changsheng explained, “The reason you can command flying swords? It’s only because you borrow the Magical Power stored within the ninth sword inside this case.”

Yan Bei’an felt a jolt. “What… what Magical Power?”

“Did I not make myself clear?” Chen Changsheng asked.

Yan Bei’an struggled to believe it. His voice wavered. “How… how do you know all this?”

Chen Changsheng pointed at the sword case once more. “That sword? It’s mine.”

Yan Bei’an just stared at him silently.

Seeing no response, Chen Changsheng lost patience. “You should understand. This isn’t a negotiation. I’m not asking for your permission.”

Yan Bei’an’s eyes returned to the sword case.

He sighed inwardly, knowing resistance was futile.

He raised his hand. “Chunqiu!”

The flying sword obeyed, landing in his palm.

Gripping the sword, Yan Bei’an glanced at Chen Changsheng, then turned and brought the blade down swiftly.

“Crack!”

The central container of the Ten Directions Sword Case was split open from the top.

The hilt of a sword became visible.

He reached to pull out the sword…

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“You won’t be able to,” Chen Changsheng stated.

Yan Bei’an tried. The gentleman was right. It wouldn’t budge.

“Let me.” Chen Changsheng offered.

Yan Bei’an released the hilt and watched, waiting to see how he would do it.

“Sword. Emerge.”

Chen Changsheng raised a hand. A Divine Decree rang out.

“Buzz!”

In that instant, the surrounding sand dunes began to vibrate.

A sudden whirlwind kicked up on the desert, radiating outwards from where the sword case stood.

‘A vision? An anomaly?’ Yan Bei’an’s mind reeled in shock. He turned quickly.

“Clang. Clang. Clang.”

The Ten Directions Sword Case rattled violently.

The sword hidden at its center flew from its sheath.

Yan Bei’an raised his hand instinctively as a streak of light flashed before his eyes. The sword landed obediently in the grasp of the man before him.

Chen Changsheng extended a finger and lightly flicked the sword blade.

“Ding.”

A pure, resonant sword chime echoed across the desert.

But it wasn’t just sound. Where the gentleman’s fingertip met the blade…

A ripple spread outward, transforming into a mighty blast of wind that scattered the sand and stones around them.

When the chaos finally subsided…

Yan Bei’an snapped back to awareness. His gaze fixed on the sword in Chen Changsheng’s hand.

It looked… utterly ordinary. Worse than Chunqiu. Worse than Zhuyu. Less remarkable than any of the other eight swords in the case.

So why…?

One shiver of its blade could unleash such power?

Chen Changsheng naturally found the sword satisfactory. Its only flaw was the lack of a sword spirit, but that didn’t matter. This sword had been forged with one purpose: to store Magical Power. To save him from constantly plucking hairs.

Yan Bei’an stared at the blade, stunned speechless for a moment.

Chen Changsheng sheathed the sword.

“Time for you all to go home.”

He beckoned with his hand. The other swords scattered nearby obeyed, flying back one by one into the sword case.

“Click. Clack…”

The sound of mechanisms echoed again as the case snapped shut, standing steadily beside Yan Bei’an.

Finally snapping out of his daze, Yan Bei’an asked, “This sword… what… what sword is it?”

Chen Changsheng thought briefly, then gave him an answer:

“Broken Sword.”

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