Villainess Breaker: Raising Broken Beauties Against Destiny

A few remaining disciples nearby quietly looked over, clearly surprised that Damian dared stop Elder Mirena before entering the Sword Tomb.

After all, he was the shameless core disciple famous for giving gifts to beautiful women, flirting without fear, and somehow surviving Elder Selvara’s personal training.

Now, he actually dared to walk up to Elder Mirena and seemed to be flirting with her.

For a moment, the Heavenly Sword Sect disciples did not know what kind of expression to make.

One inner disciple whispered, "Did Senior Brother Damian just try to flirt with Elder Mirena?"

Another disciple’s mouth twitched. "Is he sick?"

A third disciple looked even more shocked. "No, the scary part is that Elder Mirena hasn’t cut him down yet."

The candidates from outside forces heard those whispers and became curious.

One young master from an outside force quietly leaned closer to a Heavenly Sword Sect disciple. "Is that man famous?"

The Heavenly Sword Sect disciple glanced at him and lowered his voice. "Famous? That’s Damian. Elder Selvara’s disciple."

The outside candidate’s eyes changed slightly. "Elder Selvara? That strong sword elder?"

The disciple nodded. "Yes. He’s also a shameless bastard who chases beautiful women everywhere."

Another Heavenly Sword Sect disciple added, "He gives gifts to women like he’s throwing stones into a lake. If the woman is beautiful, he becomes generous as hell."

The outside candidate froze. "That kind of person dares to talk to Elder Mirena?"

Several Heavenly Sword Sect disciples nodded at the same time.

Their expressions were complicated.

One of them muttered, "That’s why we’re shocked."

Another whispered, "Elder Mirena doesn’t care about romance, gifts, charm, praise, or pretty faces. Her whole life is the sword. She even scolds elders if they talk nonsense about the sword Dao."

The outsiders slowly sucked in a breath.

They looked at Damian’s back again.

A shameless pervert dared to approach the famously strict sword cultivator who thought most men were noisy distractions.

That was really crazy.

For some reason, they also felt a little respect for him.

"At least he has guts," the outside candidate muttered.

"Guts?" a Heavenly Sword Sect disciple said with a strange face. "That might just be stupidity."

The outside candidate shook his head. "Maybe. But ordinary stupid people would not dare stand there."

While the whispers spread behind him, Damian heard everything clearly.

His mouth twitched slightly.

"Damn. My reputation is really becoming strange."

Usually, he might have turned around, smiled, and said something shameless just to make the crowd suffer more.

This time, he ignored them.

After all, his current attention was fixed on Mirena.

Elder Garron was a blacksmith.

If Damian wanted to help that noisy hammer lunatic even a little, he needed to know what kind of sword this diamond-hard woman actually wanted.

Mirena looked at Damian silently for several breaths. Her sharp gaze seemed to cut away every fake expression on his face.

Finally, she spoke. "The best sword is not the strongest sword."

The whispers behind Damian vanished at once.

Everyone listened.

Mirena’s voice remained cold and blunt. "It is the sword that does not lie to its wielder."

Damian’s eyes moved slightly.

Mirena continued, "A sword covered in jewels is still trash if it cannot cut. A sword with a famous name is still useless if it does not match its master. A sword forged for flattery is worse than scrap metal."

Damian nodded slowly.

"Elder Garron, I hope you’re hearing this in spirit, because I don’t understand a damn thing."

Mirena looked at him and said flatly, "If you truly want advice, remember this."

Her eyes became sharper. "A sword should be honest, sharp, durable, and quiet."

Damian blinked. "Quiet?"

Mirena said coldly, "Yes. I dislike noisy swords and noisy people."

Damian’s face stiffened.

Behind him, several Heavenly Sword Sect disciples almost laughed.

Damian coughed lightly. "Very profound, Elder Mirena."

Mirena stared at him. "Do not flatter me. Enter the Sword Tomb."

Damian immediately bowed. "Yes, Elder."

He turned toward the open stone gate, his expression calm on the outside.

Inside, however, he was already sighing.

"Elder Garron, I’m sorry, but I really couldn’t understand what kind of sword she wants."

---

Elder Mirena did not stay any longer.

After giving Damian that blunt answer, she turned around and left directly, her dark-green robes moving faintly in the sharp wind.

She did not ask why Damian wanted to know.

She did not care whether he understood.

To her, she had already answered enough.

Damian watched her leave and silently sighed.

"Elder Garron, I tried. I really did."

For a moment, he considered taking out a gift and testing Elder Mirena’s reaction.

A beautiful woman with a 400× multiplier was standing right there.

To Damian, that was basically a walking treasure chest covered in sword Qi.

However, after thinking about it for half a breath, he immediately killed that idea.

"No. Bad idea."

If the gift was good, maybe things would be fine.

If the gift was bad, Elder Mirena might not even bother pretending to be polite.

Worse, if she connected the gift to Elder Garron, then that old blacksmith’s already difficult road might become a damn cliff.

Damian shook his head.

"Forget it. Diamond-hard women need careful handling."

He turned toward the opened stone gate.

Ancient sword Qi continued pouring out, brushing against his face like cold blades.

Damian adjusted his robe, held the protection jade, and stepped into the mist.

The moment he crossed the gate, the world around him changed.

The noisy Sword Hall disappeared.

What appeared before him was a vast gray land filled with swords.

Countless blades stood buried in the ground, stretching all the way to the horizon.

The entire world was also silent, but that silence was not peaceful.

It felt like thousands of sleeping swords were quietly watching every person who entered.

Damian stood at the edge of the gray land and looked around with interest. "Damn."

His eyes swept over the endless field of swords. "This place really looks like a graveyard for sword maniacs."

The moment he said that, a faint sword intent brushed past his cheek.

SHING!

A thin cut appeared on his skin.

Damian froze.

A drop of blood slid down his face.

He slowly touched the wound, then looked at the surrounding swords again. "Okay. Sensitive graveyard for sword maniacs."

The sword intent around him became slightly colder.

Damian immediately coughed and straightened his posture. "I mean, respected sacred ground of ancient sword seniors."

The cold sword intent slowly faded.

Damian’s mouth twitched.

"Even the swords here are damn petty."