Ch. 1121 - Sword God of Ten-Mile Slope

Behind him, a great statue of Garuda appeared.

When Garuda is enraged, all living beings reveal their true forms.

The towering Garuda rose up, lifting mountains with his strength, and brought down a colossal foot toward Xu Zimo.

With a thunderous boom, the foot crashed down, but before it could settle, a slash of blade-light split the heavens.

The edge of Shadow Tyrant pierced straight through Garuda’s foot and soared upward.

Xu Zimo stepped through the air, the vast river of spiritforce behind him surging like a tidal wave.

The blade cleaved apart everything in its path, landing heavily upon Garuda’s massive shoulder.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The gigantic Garuda’s body shattered completely, collapsing into pieces.

Dust rose in clouds, and within that storm the figure of the Purgatory Heavenly King tried to flee into the distance.

But he only managed a few steps before a mouth of Chaos descended from above, swallowing him whole.

“There was no need for this,” Xu Zimo shook his head slightly.

He had only come to borrow a road, yet these men insisted on standing in his way.

This was South Martial Pass. Xu Zimo pulled out the map he had purchased earlier and studied it.

The next destination should be Ten-Mile Slope.

“The Sword God of Ten-Mile Slope,” Xu Zimo murmured softly.

That was a story turned into legend.

He stepped deeper into South Martial Pass.

Behind him, autumn winds whistled through falling leaves, and ancient buildings stood forlorn in the lonely breeze.

The endless line of fortifications soon disappeared from sight.

Beyond the ruins stretched open plains, an endless horizon with no visible end.

The moment his foot touched the plain, a sword aura erupted from the northwest.

It surged skyward like a flood, tearing open the clouds above.

Before seeing the man, Xu Zimo already felt a sword intent that pierced the heavens.

After only a few steps forward, someone blocked his path.

An old eunuch stood there, holding an imperial decree in hand, dressed in court attire.

His back was hunched, and his voice was sharp and shrill.

Seeing Xu Zimo, he said, “Our Lady, Empress Myriad Flowers, does not wish to meet you. Please turn back, Fellow Daoist.”

“Empress Myriad Flowers?” Xu Zimo replied.

“You must mean Myriad Flowers Fairy.”

“Impudent! How dare you call Her Ladyship by name!” the eunuch scolded.

“What’s the matter? She’s too afraid to see me herself, so she sends out a half-dead freak to disgust me?” Xu Zimo shot back.

“You… you…” The eunuch pointed a trembling finger at him, unable to speak for a long while.

“Insolence!” he finally shrieked.

“Go ask your Myriad Flowers if she still remembers Heaven’s Equal Emperor,” Xu Zimo said.

“I’ve no patience for your words,” the eunuch sneered coldly.

He slowly unfurled the imperial decree, then shrilled, “I call upon the Sword God to appear!”

The moment his words fell, sword intent streaked through the sky like lightning.

It ripped through everything. Xu Zimo had never before seen such overwhelming sword aura.

In an instant, a figure riding his sword was already above him.

A broad sword floated in the air. Standing atop it was a man in white robes and a silver cloak, staring silently at them.

His eyes carried no trace of emotion.

Long bangs hung across his face, nearly covering one eye.

His features were sharp as if carved by a blade, with sword brows and starry eyes.

His robe billowed in the wind, silver cloak blending into the white, while sword intent surged endlessly around him.

“By Her Ladyship’s command, kill all who trespass here,” the eunuch said coldly.

The Sword God looked at Xu Zimo but did not move.

“Why aren’t you acting?” the eunuch barked. “Do you mean to disobey Her Ladyship’s orders?”

The Sword God glanced at him, just a glance.

And the vast earth seemed to be split in two by a single sword stroke at dawn.

Countless sword scars covered the eunuch in an instant.

In that single moment, no one had even seen him move, yet he had already unleashed countless strikes.

The eunuch had likely been killed hundreds of times over.

It was a warning.

The Sword God said faintly, “My sword doesn’t like people shouting. Keep your voice down.”

He leapt down from the floating sword. The blade itself seemed alive, circling affectionately around him.

The eunuch swallowed hard, his tone softening slightly.

“T-these are Her Ladyship’s orders. I merely deliver the message.”

“Yeah, I know,” the Sword God waved him off, signaling he could leave.

Face dark with shame, the eunuch gave a final cold snort and departed.

The Sword God turned back to Xu Zimo.

“I am Xie Changliu,” he said calmly, giving his name.

“Fight me.”

“I can see from your sword intent, you are not the kind to bend your neck. Why would you follow Myriad Flowers?” Xu Zimo asked.

For someone who had pursued their path this far, personality and sword dao had long become one and the same.

One could judge a man by his sword.

Xie Changliu’s intent pressed ever forward, unyielding. He would never willingly serve another.

“Everyone has their hardships. I won’t speak of mine, and you need not ask,” Xie Changliu answered.

“Now draw your blade.”

The broad sword in his hand folded inward. The double-edged wings of the blade closed, reshaping it into a narrow longsword.

He leveled the point at Xu Zimo.

Infinite sword intent condensed into a single point.

Xu Zimo slowly raised Shadow Tyrant.

In that moment, blade and sword clashed invisibly, their wills colliding.

Neither man moved, yet the clash rang like war drums and steel, shaking the heavens.

Blade aura and sword aura shredded the void as if it were tofu, breaking it into fragments.

All the world was filled with the clamor of sword and blade colliding.

Behind Xu Zimo, countless arcs of blade aura gathered into the form of great sabers.

Behind Xie Changliu, sword aura condensed the same way.

As countless blades and swords shattered, the space between them exploded apart.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The shockwave consumed everything nearby, but both men stood firm.

Xie Changliu slowly raised his sword again.

And then he moved.

To an outside observer, nothing would be visible, only a streak of sword light crossing the sky.

The fleeting brilliance of a stallion’s shadow.

In the next instant, white robes swirled as the longsword exploded before Xu Zimo’s eyes.

Xu Zimo’s gaze narrowed. His curved blade moved as well.

The sword technique was fast, so fast it was nearly beyond measure.

Tens of thousands of strikes in a second, perhaps millions, too many to count.

But no matter how quick the sword, Xu Zimo’s movements remained calm, steady.

His blade was not fast, but every strike met its mark, deflecting each thrust perfectly.

Both men fought within their own rhythm.

The contest now was who could pull the other into his rhythm first.

Blade shadows and sword shadows criss-crossed the void.

The duel stretched on for over ten minutes.

Xu Zimo never drew upon overwhelming power. He only responded with pure blade technique.

In his lifetime, this was the finest swordsmanship he had ever seen.

And if one stripped away cultivation and raw strength, leaving only sword and blade, the two of them were evenly matched.

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