Chapter 799- Shen Mu won the BR
The sky was a canvas of violence.
Hundreds of cultivators, hundreds of qi signatures, hundreds of clashing spiritual energies — the battle royal had thinned the herd. Bodies, the defeated and the unconscious, fell from the sky like rain. The formation barriers, the golden nets that the Azure Cloud military had deployed below, caught them. Safety. Elimination. Gone.
The numbers dwindled. From hundreds to dozens. From dozens to tens. From tens to the final cluster.
Six remained.
Shen Mu, the sword sovereign, hovered. His plain blade, the unadorned steel, was slick with spiritual residue. His breath, the controlled, measured breath of a Soul Formation cultivator who had been fighting for two hours, was steady. His robes, the simple dark cloth, were torn at the shoulder. The skin beneath, the pale flesh, was visible. A cut, the shallow wound from a near-miss, was there. The blood, the thin line of red, had dried.
His sisters flanked him. Shen Yue, eighteen, her Nascent Soul early stage cultivation, her pretty face flushed with exertion, her robes disheveled. Shen Ling, also eighteen, her Foundation Establishment — no, wait. The tournament’s pressure, the life-or-death combat, had forced her breakthrough. Foundation Establishment peak. The bottleneck, cracked during the fight, was there.
The other three. A Body Integration elder from the Azure Cloud Sect. A Nascent Soul late stage mercenary, his scarred face, his twin blades. A Soul Formation middle stage young woman from a minor noble family, her qi exhausted, her face pale.
Shen Mu, his gold-flecked brown eyes, on the remaining fighters, assessed. The Body Integration elder was the threat. The mercenary was dangerous. The noblewoman was spent.
’Three threats. Two sisters to protect. One position to hold.’
His internal thoughts, the calculating, strategic, past-life-informed thoughts, were there.
’The elder will target me first. I am the most dangerous among the remaining fighters, even though my cultivation is suppressed. He can sense the sword intent. He knows I am hiding something. The mercenary will go for the weak links — my sisters. The noblewoman will try to survive by avoiding conflict.’
’If I reveal my true sword intent, I can defeat all three. But that would expose me. Tianlong is watching. If he sees my prodigy-level sword intent, he will know. He will connect the dots. He will know I am the reincarnated Sword Sovereign.’
’I have to win without revealing. Using only late Soul Formation power. Using only the plain blade. Using only the skills that a talented-but-not-extraordinary cultivator would have.’
He moved. The plain blade, the steel, swept. The noblewoman, her exhausted qi, was slow. The flat of his blade, the non-cutting edge, struck her shoulder. The impact, the Soul Formation-powered impact, sent her flying. Into the formation net. Eliminated.
Five remained.
The Body Integration elder attacked. His palm, the qi-infused palm, was enormous. The spiritual energy, the golden, blazing, overwhelming energy, was there. The attack, the full-power, no-holds-barred attack, was aimed at Shen Mu.
Shen Mu dodged. His body, the lean frame, twisted. The palm, the golden energy, missed. The air, the displaced air, sent his hair flying. The counter, his counter, was there. The plain blade, the steel, swung. The elder’s robes, the defensive qi, were cut. The fabric, the silk, parted. The skin beneath, the tanned flesh, was revealed. Not a deep wound. A warning.
"Hmm," the elder said. His voice, the deep, experienced voice of a veteran, was there. "Good sword. Fast. Precise. But not enough."
The mercenary, the scarred man, moved. His twin blades, the spiritual weapons, were aimed at Shen Yue. The attack, the opportunistic, predatory attack on the weakest link, was there.
"Brother!" Shen Yue screamed. Her voice, the panicked, frightened voice, was there.
Shen Ling, the other sister, moved. Her body, the slender frame, intercepted. Her qi, the Foundation Establishment peak, flared. The block, the desperate, self-sacrificing block, was there. The mercenary’s blade, the spiritual weapon, met her qi barrier. The clash, the mismatched clash, sent Shen Ling flying. Her body, the slender frame, tumbled. But she was not eliminated. She caught herself, mid-air, her spiritual energy stabilizing.
"Sister!" Shen Yue cried.
Shen Mu, his eyes, the cold, dangerous eyes, were on the mercenary. The rage, the burning, protective, elder-brother rage, was there. His sword intent, the suppressed, hidden, prodigy-level sword intent, wanted to surge. To erupt. To cut this man into pieces.
’No. Control. If I release the sword intent now...’
He held. The plain blade, the steel, swung. The mercenary, the scarred man, met the strike. The twin blades, the spiritual weapons, crossed. The parry, the desperate parry, was there. But Shen Mu’s strike, the Soul Formation-powered, anger-fueled strike, was too strong. The mercenary’s right blade, the spiritual weapon, cracked. The steel, the forged, qi-infused steel, fractured.
"What?" the mercenary gasped. His scarred face, the shock, was there.
Shen Mu’s follow-up, the second strike, the killing strike — no. The flat. The flat of his blade, the non-cutting edge, struck the mercenary’s chest. The impact, the concentrated, Soul Formation-powered impact, shattered his ribs. The mercenary, his body, flew. Into the formation net. Eliminated.
Four remained. Shen Mu, his two sisters, and the Body Integration elder.
The elder, his deep eyes, on Shen Mu, held the assessment. The respect. The wariness.
"You are strong, boy," the elder said. His voice was measured. "Stronger than your cultivation suggests. But I am Body Integration. You are Soul Formation. The gap—"
"Is just a gap," Shen Mu said. His voice was quiet. The words, the confident, past-life-informed words, were there.
The elder attacked. Full power. The golden palm, the Body Integration qi, was enormous. The air, the displaced air, screamed. Shen Mu, his plain blade, met it. The sword qi, the late-Soul-Formation sword qi, clashed with the Body Integration palm. The mismatch, the realm-gap mismatch, was there.
Shen Mu was pushed back. His body, the lean frame, slid through the air. His feet, the spiritual platform beneath him, cracked. The qi, the overwhelming qi, pressed. His arms, the arms holding the blade, trembled. The bones, the meridians, the spiritual channels — all were strained.
’He is Body Integration. I am Soul Formation. The gap is real. Without revealing my sword intent, I cannot—’
His eyes, the gold-flecked brown eyes, went to the sky. To the ships. To Tianlong.
The man, the golden, crimson-eyed man, was watching. His expression, the composed, slightly bored expression, was there. His gold-crimson eyes, on the fight, held the interest. The mild, evaluative interest of a man watching an ant struggle against a boot.
’You. You are watching. You are watching me struggle. You know I am hiding. You are waiting. Waiting for me to reveal myself. So you can confirm what you already suspect.’
’Bastard. I will kill you. I will kill you all. But not today. Not like this.’
’I will not give you the satisfaction.’
He retreated. The elder’s palm, the follow-up, missed. Shen Mu, his body, dropped. Below the elder, below the attack range. His sisters, on either side, flanked him. The three siblings, the formation, was there. Back to back. The defensive, last-stand formation.
The elder, his deep eyes, the consideration, was there. The assessment, the cost-benefit assessment of continuing to fight three opponents simultaneously, even if two were weaker, was there.
"Enough," the elder said. His voice was calm. "I yield. The boy is worthy."
The yield, the surprising, dignified yield of a veteran who recognized talent, was there. The elder, his body, descended. Into the formation net. Voluntarily eliminated.
Three remained. Shen Mu and his two sisters. The last standing.