Turns Out I'm the Real Monster?!

He Shan’Er fell silent.

Her slender, pale fingers tapped gently against the stone table as she appeared to weigh her options.

After a moment, she gave a dazzling smile and waved her sleeve.

The wind stilled, the birds began to sing again, and all the strange phenomena receded like the tide.

Only the teacup in Jiang Mu’s hand shattered with a CRACK, tea dripping from the edge of the table.

"Speak. What is it that Lord Jiang wants?"

He Shan’Er reined in her oppressive aura. Her tone became level again as she settled into a more languid posture.

Jiang Mu retorted, "What does the Divine Sword Sect have to offer?"

He Shan’Er simply smiled without a word.

So Jiang Mu put it more bluntly.

"Some time ago, your son, He Shuangying, borrowed one of my family’s heirloom swords and has yet to return it. I’m here to collect."

The corner of He Shan’Er’s mouth twitched.

’I’ve seen shameless people before, but never anyone *this* shameless.’

Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"We’ve already donated a great number of Divine Weapons and secret manuals to the Demon-slaying Bureau. Master Jiang is the man of the hour over there, can’t you even get a few scraps? If things are that bleak, you might as well join our Divine Sword Sect."

Jiang Mu scoffed.

"If you gave them away, they must not have been very good. The best things are always the ones you keep for yourselves."

Hearing this, He Shan’Er laughed as well. "You’re a clever one, Lord Jiang."

She rose to her feet. "Follow me."

Jiang Mu let out a quiet sigh of relief and rose to follow the woman.

After passing through several winding corridors, they arrived at a magnificent hall named the Sword Storage Pavilion.

The moment he stepped inside, a chilling wave of Sword Qi washed over him.

The four walls of the hall were lined with all manner of treasured swords, hung and displayed. A rough count revealed more than thirty of them.

Some blades were as cold as autumn waters, others as crimson as flowing fire, and some as dense as black iron...

Each one held a hidden brilliance, their Sword Qi lying dormant within.

Standing among them felt like being stared down by countless sharp eyes, the pressure immense.

He Shan’Er gestured to the hall full of Divine Weapons, her tone swelling with pride.

"These are the life’s work of the Divine Sword Sect’s master smiths throughout the ages. Were any single one of them to find its way into the world, it would be enough to stir up a bloodbath.

Lord Jiang, you may choose one to take with you.

But remember, it is the rule of the Divine Sword Sect that you may only take one.

This is our greatest concession. I hope Lord Jiang won’t push his luck with any more unreasonable demands."

Though the woman’s tone was mild, it carried an air of finality.

For once, Jiang Mu didn’t offer a witty retort. He walked slowly into the hall, his gaze sweeping over the sharp blades one by one.

He Shan’Er stood quietly to one side, her expression indifferent.

After looking for a long time, Jiang Mu’s gaze finally settled on a sword submerged in a pool.

The sword was unique.

Its blade was not made of ordinary metal, but was a stream of flowing light, as dark and deep as the longest night.

It floated there silently.

As its halo of light swirled, it inexplicably brought to mind a lone peak under the moon, a winter plum blossom in the snow, and... a Female Sword Immortal, standing with her blade, aloof and ethereal.

"It’s called ’Wangchuan’."

He Shan’Er’s voice rang out at the perfect moment, laced with a hint of amusement.

"This sword was not forged from any mortal metal. Its material was drawn from the essence of the Nether Waters of the Southern Border, making it the epitome of yin and cold.

To draw it, one must possess a mind as clear as glass, with neither a craving for life nor a fear of death. Only then can you break through the blade’s Evil Qi and pull it from the pool.

Lord Jiang, didn’t you just say you weren’t afraid to die? Why not give it a try?"

It was a blatant provocation, and a test.

She believed Jiang Mu was a madman, but she didn’t believe anyone in the world could truly possess a heart as still as water, utterly devoid of the fear of death.

Jiang Mu frowned slightly, realizing he had unwittingly walked into a trap.

From the moment they met, they had been constantly probing each other’s limits. He had held the upper hand, but now the woman had turned the tables on him.

If he didn’t take it, it would be an admission of fear.

If he tried and failed, any further attempts at extortion would be impossible.

Jiang Mu just smiled. Too lazy to trade barbs, he simply reached for it.

As his fingers drew closer, the scene before him changed abruptly.

The Wangchuan sword rose on its own, as if alive, its tip aimed directly between his eyebrows!

Carrying a tangible Sword Qi and killing intent, it closed in, inch by inch.

With every fraction of an inch he moved closer, the suffocating feeling of death intensified.

Life and death hung by a thread.

Anyone would be forced to believe—

that in the next instant, it would pierce through their skull and end their life!

’So it does have a few tricks. No wonder she’s so confident,’ Jiang Mu thought.

’This sword has its own mental attack. It infinitely amplifies a person’s underlying fear of death.’

’An ordinary person’s mind would have already collapsed, and they would have recoiled in terror.’

’However...’

’I have a Substitute Death Doll!’

’I have two goddamn lives! What the hell is there to be afraid of?!’

A flash of disdain crossed Jiang Mu’s eyes. Without a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed the hilt.

The sneer on He Shan’Er’s lips hadn’t yet faded.

’Since this sword was forged, no one has ever been able to take it.’

’Everyone has a survival instinct. Faced with the threat of certain death, who can truly remain indifferent?’

’If even a sliver of fear arises in their heart, they will suffer a backlash from the Sword Qi.’

In the next second, however, the smile on her face froze.

Watching as Jiang Mu firmly grasped the long sword, which had become as docile as still water in his hand, she was completely dumbfounded. Her beautiful eyes went wide with utter disbelief.

’How is this possible!?’

’Did he really... just take it?’

"So this is all it is," Jiang Mu said, giving it a few casual swings.

Although the blade was formed of condensed light and water, it had the feel of a solid object. Each swing created mesmerizing ripples of deep blue light.

But it didn’t feel much different from an ordinary sword.

A storm raged in He Shan’Er’s heart.

After a long moment, she finally recovered, her gaze fixed on Jiang Mu. Her expression was complex, and now held a trace of fear.

’A person who isn’t afraid of death is the most terrifying kind of person there is.’

She finally believed him. His earlier talk about being willing to throw his life away hadn’t been an empty threat.