Chapter 4: Heavenly Gate, One Sword, Snow Flies Over the Whole City

When the golden thunder fell, the entire Hanzhou City was illuminated as if it were midday.

Countless commoners looked up, seeing behind the cracks in the clouds that ancient Heavenly Gate hanging at the end of the sky, with what seemed like immortals gazing down upon the Human Realm from behind the gate.

Their expressions were blank.

Like looking at ants.

Jiang Che stood before the entrance of the Prince of Zhenhan Manor, covered in blood, yet the wooden sword in his hand shone blindingly bright.

The Sword Spirit's voice was no longer lazy for the first time.

"If you cannot block this strike, you will die."

Jiang Che smiled: "If I don't block it, I will die too."

"Well said."

The Sword Spirit chuckled low: "Then let them see why a Human Realm Sword Cultivator dares to question Heaven."

Jiang Che gripped the sword with both hands, and the green stone beneath his feet shattered inch by inch.

Before that bolt of golden thunder even touched the ground, its pressure had already collapsed the houses lining both sides of the long street; commoners knelt in droves, and even Lu Heng, a First Grade Martial Artist, turned deathly pale and stumbled backward.

It was not that he wanted to retreat.

But before Heavenly Might, the instinct of mortals is to retreat.

Only Jiang Che did not retreat.

He raised his sword, meeting the thunder.

Boom!

The wooden sword collided with the golden thunder.

In an instant, Jiang Che felt every bone in his body shatter.

The flesh and skin on his arms exploded, and before the fresh blood could hit the ground, it was evaporated by the Thunder Fire.

The wooden sword bent violently, and a fine crack appeared on its blade.

The Sword Spirit cursed: "Damn immortals, truly shameless, dealing such a ruthless blow to a boy who has just started practicing the sword!"

Jiang Che gritted his teeth, blood constantly gushing from his mouth.

"Senior... curse all you want, but can you hold it for now?"

"I am holding it!"

The Sword Spirit laughed angrily: "Boy, repeat after me."

"Repeat what?"

"Borrow three inches of Sword Qi from the Human Realm, to slay ten thousand feet of gods in the sky."

Sword light in Jiang Che's eyes surged violently, and he spoke word by word:

"Borrow three inches of Sword Qi from the Human Realm."

"Slay ten thousand feet of gods in the sky!"

As the words fell, within Hanzhou City, every sword weapon rang out in unison.

The sword at the waist of a white-haired old man in a tea house flew out of its scabbard.

The Broken Sword hanging on the wall of the blacksmith shop trembled violently.

An Ancient Sword sealed away for years in a wealthy household broke free from its case and rose.

Even a wooden branch in the hands of a child on the street trembled, emitting a wisp of Sword Intent.

Ten thousand swords rang out in Han Zhou.

Countless Sword Qi streams, like tributaries returning to the sea, flowed into the wooden sword in Jiang Che's hand.

The crack on the wooden sword did not expand; instead, it erupted with blinding Green Light.

Jiang Che took a step forward.

The thunder was forcibly pushed back three feet by him.

Behind the Heavenly Gate, that indifferent voice finally showed a fluctuation.

"Insolent."

Jiang Che looked up, his face covered in blood and filth, yet he smiled wildly.

"Insolent?"

"You have sat in the sky for too long, have you forgotten that the Human Realm has never been your family's private garden!"

He suddenly swung his sword.

Sword light surged upward against the clouds.

The golden thunder was split open by a single sword strike, turning into scattered fragments of light that sprinkled down over Hanzhou City.

In the sky, that Heavenly Gate trembled violently.

A phantom giant hand reached out from behind the gate, as if intending to erase Jiang Che directly.

The Sword Spirit snorted coldly: "Finally unable to hold back and acting personally?"

Jiang Che only felt a more ancient, more wild Sword Intent awaken within the wooden sword.

That Sword Intent did not resemble a god.

It was more like a drunkard, holding a sword, walking toward Heaven with a smile.

"This strike, I will take it."

The Sword Spirit said softly.

Jiang Che's body shuddered, and his consciousness seemed to be gently pushed aside.

In the next moment, he raised his head.

It was still that young, pale face, yet the eyes had changed.

He became carefree, arrogant, and supreme.

He held the sword in one hand, pointing it at the Heavenly Gate.

"Those turtles with their heads tucked in the sky, they didn't dare descend to the Lower Realm a hundred years ago, and a hundred years later they still only dare to stick out a hand?"

"Come."

"Let me see if you have made any progress."

The Wooden Sword slashed casually.

Between heaven and earth, a green arc appeared.

That illusory giant hand halted before the arc.

Immediately, all five fingers were severed.

A muffled groan came from behind the Heavenly Gate.

Above Hanzhou City, the clouds suddenly scattered.

Before that ancient Heavenly Gate vanished, the person behind the Gate spoke coldly:

"Remnant of the Sword of the Drunken Sword."

"You truly are not dead yet."

The Sword Spirit laughed through Jiang Che's mouth:

"Your grandfather has a hard life; I won't die."

"Go back and tell your master."

"There is still a sword in the Human Realm."

"Don't stick out your hand; if you stick out your hand, I'll chop it off."

The Heavenly Gate vanished.

Silence fell over the entire city.

Moments later, heavy snow began to fall from the sky.

It was clearly early autumn, yet goose-feather snow covered the long streets of Han Zhou.

Jiang Che regained control of his body, spat a mouthful of fresh blood, and knelt on one knee.

The Wooden Sword's light dimmed, its cracks clearly visible.

The Sword Spirit's voice was much weaker.

"Boy, this time the loss is huge."

Jiang Che panted: "Won't die?"

"Won't die for now."

Jiang Che raised his head and looked at Lu Heng.

Lu Heng's face was pale, his eyes filled with terror.

He finally understood that he had provoked not just a remnant of the Jiang Family.

But a sword that would strike the Heavenly Gate again.

Jiang Che supported himself with the Wooden Sword, stood up, and walked toward him step by step.

"Now."

"It is your turn."