Chapter 335: Pray Tell, Who Is the Sword Immortal!

Before Snow Sea Pass, sword qi was pouring across the plain without restraint.

A human being was human because he possessed emotions far more complex than those of beasts.

Emotions that transcended the instinct to survive.

Emotions that were sometimes useless to survival even harmful to it.

There were not many people in this world who could truly understand the Sword Saint.

When Yu Huaping was a child, the thing he looked forward to most every day was going to an old shop outside the imperial city and eating a bowl of soup noodles.

Rich meat fragrance.

A huge handful of scallions and coriander.

The taste alone was enough to intoxicate him.

The misery of his childhood, the hardship of an elder brother who had been like a father all of it seemed to dissolve into the steaming white vapor rising from that bowl.

In his youth, the Sword Saint followed his master and learned the sword.

His master had possessed almost no reputation in the jianghu.

The highest level the old man ever reached in his life was merely Eighth Grade as a swordsman.

If he attached himself to the household of some ordinary wealthy family as a retainer, he could live without worrying about food or clothing.

But if he wanted to make a name for himself in the jianghu?

He simply was not qualified.

A true genius, however, needed only his first sword and the most basic set of sword techniques.

After all, whether the stone contained fine jade or nothing but black rock had nothing to do with whether you cracked it open using a fine iron tool or a broken file.

Before dying, his master once said to Yu Huaping:

“You are you.

“I am me.

“To have taught you leaves me with no regrets in this life.

“For you to have met me was my good fortune.

“I am your master.

“But you need not tell outsiders who your master was.

“One day, on the path of the sword, there will inevitably be a peak that belongs to you.

“I do not need you to borrow that peak to make my name known.”

*I was only an ant holding a sword.*

*How could I ever share the radiance of sun and moon?*

So no one in the world knew who the Sword Saint’s master had truly been.

People always assumed he must have been some hidden grandmaster of the sword.

In truth, he had merely been an easygoing old man who, even on his deathbed, refused to shamelessly cling to his disciple’s fame and borrow its light for himself.

By middle age, a man settled his body and established his life.

Yu Huaping carried one sword and challenged men everywhere.

Each battle raised the height of his sword path.

And at the same time, those battles built his place among the Four Great Swordsmen.

For the entire jianghu to place the word “Saint” upon him meant the jianghu itself acknowledged the monument he had built upon the path of the sword.

The Baili Clan stood behind the Hundred-Li Sword, and behind the Baili Clan stood the Zhao imperial house of Qian.

Behind Li Liangshen stood the Marquis of Zhenbei’s Residence and the iron cavalry of the Zhenbei Army.

Behind the Swordsmith of Chu stood several hundred years of great hereditary nobility in Chu.

Only Yu Huaping though he bore the surname Yu had truly risen from the grass roots.

A man of the jianghu should naturally come from the jianghu.

That was why the jianghu had placed its one and only “Saint” upon him.

In the words of ordinary wanderers:

What the hell did the other three have to do with the jianghu anyway?

Only Yu Huaping was truly one of their own.

A man rising from nothing, living his whole life by one sword that was the real jianghu dream pursued by young heroes everywhere.

He killed the old Situ Clan patriarch and helped Situ Lei seize power.

He turned against the Emperor of Jin.

His younger brother died in battle.

The savages entered the pass.

Living beings suffered catastrophe.

A man reaching middle age seemed inevitably to encounter a period of confusion.

In General Zheng’s words, a so-called midlife crisis.

The Sword Saint was no exception.

Looking back, he discovered he had somehow done so many utterly fucked-up things.

Looking forward, he discovered the future had become nothing but a bowl of paste in his eyes.

The calm surface of the sea was only temporarily suppressing the waves beneath.

All that was needed was one gust of ocean wind, one bank of dark clouds, one storm petrel suddenly tearing through everything and shattering that ridiculous calm.

Some people would collapse from it, sit on the ground, and weep until they were a mess.

Others would erupt with it.

The Sword Saint clearly belonged to the latter kind.

Perhaps even he himself had never imagined the situation would become like this.

It was only an assassination of a collaborator.

Was there truly any need to gamble everything he had?

And yet the matter had simply unfolded naturally.

One step after another.

If you asked him whether he regretted it, he would probably ask you in return:

*Has there ever been a sword edge that bends?*

Longyuan was in his hand.

It transformed into a streak of crimson light.

Blood ran from the Sword Saint’s eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

Yet his entire spirit looked strangely refreshed.

The suffocating gloom that had filled his chest for so long let it all be swept clean today!

One sword.

Longyuan flew.

Around the Sword Saint, it drew a circle.

In an instant, sword wounds opened across the chests of nearly a hundred savage riders.

The armor they had only recently plundered seemed as thin as cicada wings before Longyuan.

Many of the savages even lowered their heads in disbelief, staring at the holes in their own chests.

*I...*

*just died like this?*

One savage warrior after another fell from his horse.

And this was only the beginning.

I, Yu Huaping, have practiced the sword for thirty years.

Nurtured the sword for thirty years.

How could all that accumulated spirit amount to only this?

Longyuan shot out again.

It pierced savage body after savage body.

With the Sword Saint at the center, warrior after warrior toppled from his horse.

Clouds of blood mist blossomed in the air, like fireworks made from human life, blooming only to wither.

If Gelimu’s death had been a great hammer smashing the minds of the savage warriors, then the terrifying might displayed by the Sword Saint now was whip after whip, breaking apart the courage inside their hearts.

This man was a demon.

This man could not be defeated!

For a time, the savage riders in the inner ring began hauling on their reins.

But the riders farther outside were still surging inward.

The overall situation had not actually improved much.

Yet the Sword Saint, already covered in blood, did not care about his situation in the slightest.

“If Heaven cast me into this world, then I should at least leave behind a story for later generations to read!”

Today outside Snow Sea Pass, a swordsman whose state had perished would once more defend his old homeland’s gate!

Longyuan flashed.

Sword qi erupted from the Sword Saint’s body like a bolt of thunder.

Along that line, dozens of savage riders men and horses alike were torn apart.

The next instant, the Sword Saint raised one hand above his head.

The winter wind was already sharp as a sword.

Today, I borrow frost as my blade and flesh and blood as sacrifice!

Within the freezing wind, phantoms of sword qi appeared.

They pierced savage throats.

Penetrated armor.

Severed warhorses.

In another instant, nearly a hundred more riders screamed and crashed to the ground.

The Sword Saint’s body swayed slightly.

Yet his aura did not weaken in the slightest.

He gave a sharp cry.

Longyuan, which had just flown out, returned again.

It shot upward straight into the sky.

Then, as though borrowing the sharp edges of frost and mist from the clouds, it descended like hail.

“AAAAAAH!”

“AAAAAAAHHH!”

Screams filled the plain without pause.

Some savage riders began fleeing.

But others had the viciousness in their hearts driven to the surface.

*If I am going to die anyway, then let me at least die quickly.*

They charged directly at the Sword Saint.

Yet any savage rider who came within fifty feet of him was instantly cut apart together with his horse.

The Sword Saint stood there like an inviolable deity.

An opponent like this was simply too despairing.

One had to remember back then, Sha Tuo Queshi had fought the iron cavalry of the Zhenbei Army.

These men here were savages.

And not even the true direct-line elite serving beneath the Savage King.

Their will to fight, their discipline, their conviction none could compare with the Zhenbei Army of that day.

Years ago, Yao Zizhan had once written a verse for the Hundred-Li Sword:

*A hundred li of thunder knock upon Heaven’s Gate—*

*Pray tell, who is the Immortal among swords?*

But today at this very moment the Sword Saint’s blade planted the seed of a heart demon inside these savage riders.

Not even the radiance of the stars could erase this terrifying nightmare.

His strength seemed to have eclipsed the starlight itself.

Just then—

Hasi arrived.

Blue radiance erupted from his body as he shouted:

“He has forcibly opened a realm by borrowing the power of Heaven and Earth!

“Right now, he cannot move from that spot!

“If he moves, his realm will collapse!

“Go!

“Whoever takes his head will be rewarded with cattle, sheep, slaves— and the title of Thousand-Household Commander!”

The savage riders around him immediately came back to themselves.

Hasi was a leader among the Guides.

His prestige among the savages was already extremely high.

Many warriors gathered their courage again and charged forward.

Hasi himself leapt into the air.

A mark of starlight flowed between his brows.

“Yu Huaping!

“Your opponent— is me!”

Covered in blood, the Sword Saint gave a cold snort.

“You?

“Unworthy.”

In the next instant, a single streak of sword qi swept across.

It pierced directly through the star-mark between Hasi’s brows.

Hasi’s entire body was thrown sideways in midair like a kite whose string had snapped.

He crashed heavily to the ground.

He was not dead.

His eyes were still wide open.

But the power of the stars within him had been completely scattered by that sword qi.

Without several months of recuperation, he would not be able to fight again.

One sword no.

Not even one sword.

Only a single thread of sword qi!

At this moment, faced with the savage riders surging toward him again, Longyuan returned to the Sword Saint’s hand.

He could not move.

He could not leave this place.

That was why, after forcibly opening this realm, he had never attempted to escape.

It was not that he did not want to.

He simply could not.

But he did not feel that he had lost anything.

He threw back his head and released a long howl:

“Even if I die today, I still need a thousand riders buried with me!

“How many are missing?

“How many remain?

“You lot—

COME QUICKLY!”

Longyuan screamed.

Then flew once more.

Blood mist continued blossoming.

The flesh of men and horses rolled and piled before the Sword Saint.

The scent of blood in the air grew so thick it was almost suffocating.

It did not take long.

Of the two thousand savage cavalrymen who had ridden out to intercept him, only half remained.

Among both the jianghu and the military there was an old saying:

A Third Grade Martial Artist, on the battlefield, could hold back one thousand iron cavalry.

Hold back.

Not kill.

But today on this open plain, faced with the charge of two thousand cavalry, without relying on terrain, without moving a single step, standing exactly where he was a swordsman had nevertheless used this method to personally kill one thousand riders!

After this battle, when the jianghu next judged the great swordsmen, there would be a new standard.

After today, the Hundred-Li Sword the man who once turned and fled before the iron cavalry of the Zhenbei Army would no longer possess the qualifications to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Sword Saint of Jin!

At last, Longyuan returned to the Sword Saint’s hand again.

This time, the sword did not fly out.

Instead, it stabbed into the earth.

The aura around the Sword Saint began falling rapidly.

Like a fire that had burned as fiercely as it possibly could, then slowly slowly was left with nothing but a sparse and desolate glow.

Before him lay a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.

Yet what the Sword Saint saw was a little boy in a courtyard in Shengle City, swinging a wooden sword.

And behind the boy stood a woman as gentle as water.

She was still waiting for him to return home.

But he could no longer go back.

*Surnamed Zheng.*

*You’re very good at handling people.*

*Take care of that family for me.*

But the Sword Saint understood something else as well.

Previously, that fellow Zheng had respected him.

Fulfilled every request.

Provided anything he needed without condition.

That was because he was the Sword Saint.

Because he was a living Sword Saint.

But very soon...

Still the corners of the Sword Saint’s mouth lifted.

He smiled.

“Surnamed Zheng.

“You brat— calculate something for me.

“How much silver can the military merit from these thousand heads be exchanged for?

“Is it enough for that widow and child to live on?”

Around him, the savage riders who had stopped once again now saw that the Sword Saint seemed to have exhausted his strength.

They began gathering their reins.

Preparing to charge.

The Sword Saint no longer possessed the strength to lift Longyuan.

He silently looked at the sword planted in the earth before him.

He did nothing.

He simply waited for the final destination of his life.

He was tired.

He was truly tired.

All the depression that had filled his heart had finally been released in a single day.

There were things he still longed for.

But no regrets remained.

*BANG!*

At that exact moment the two hundred Shengle riders personally led by Liang Cheng smashed directly into the savage formation!

[End of Chapter 335]