Chapter 13: Sorrow Has Taken the Shape of the Wuxia World

Several days later, at the back mountain of Jianhugong.

A waterfall like a silken ribbon plunged down, its thunderous roar shaking the valley.

Beneath the waterfall, a jade-green lake shimmered with ripples, while the Wuliang Jade Wall stood silently by its shore.

Luo Jie, clad in a fitted martial robe, held a long sword and trained his swordplay with full concentration.

His figure was agile, his sword moving with his body; each swing sent a whistling rush of wind.

His sword techniques were sharp—sometimes like a dragon bursting from the sea, swift and overwhelming; sometimes like a spirit snake spitting its tongue, unpredictable and elusive.

As he moved, sword qi surged in all directions, visible waves of energy spreading outward.

Wherever it passed, grass and trees along the lake were severed, leaves and branches flying everywhere.

The lake’s surface rippled in concentric circles from the sword qi.

Some patches of water were even sliced apart, forming brief gaps before swiftly closing again, spraying water in all directions.

After completing a set of Wuliang Sword Art, Luo Jie flicked his wrist and slowly sheathed his sword.

He exhaled deeply, then slowly ended his cultivation.

Perhaps due to the fusion of the wuxia world, the martial power level here far surpassed the original.

Even his own master, Xin Shuangqing, an obscure minor character, could condense tangible sword qi when wielding his sword.

Damn, it’s terrifyingly beyond human limits.

Perhaps because of this, Luo Jie had noticed in recent days that he could tap into forces from other worlds.

He could use a little of the ninja techniques from the Naruto world, and a bit of the Little Fire Dragon’s skills.

The Little Fire Dragon’s skills were fine.

This world seemed to have qi, natural energy, and similar forces, and using them consumed little.

But ninja techniques were different.

Since he had no chakra, he could only use internal strength to activate them.

Not only did it drain him massively, but the power output was unsatisfactory.

It was like using a small horse to pull a giant cart.

Moreover, whether skill or ninja technique, their forms had changed drastically, transforming into some kind of special true qi.

Sorrow has taken the shape of the wuxia world.

Fortunately, his physical body and spiritual will had transformed to a high degree.

And after sharing with his counterparts from other worlds, Luo Jie’s internal strength had surged more than threefold.

Just then, a graceful figure approached from afar.

It was Ge Guangpei.

Their relationship was simple.

Itachi know my strengths and weaknesses; I know yours.

Thanks to her, Luo Jie hadn’t gone mad from the boredom of ancient life.

This little Ge was a good senior sister.

She deserved heavy care.

Ge Guangpei walked up beside Luo Jie, her eyes soft with tenderness; she gently tugged his sleeve and scolded him with a hint of affection: “Brother, every time Itachi train, Itachi get so absorbed Itachi forget the time.”

“The martial contest is about to begin, everyone’s waiting for Itachi—if Itachi don’t hurry, Itachi’ll miss the big event.”

Luo Jie’s lips curled up unconsciously.

He teased: “Senior sister, I’m immersed in the sword art, trying to improve a bit before the contest.”

“With Itachi here, I feel at ease—I won’t miss anything.”

As he spoke, his restless hand slid around Ge Guangpei’s waist and gave it a light squeeze.

Oops, habit.

Ge Guangpei’s cheeks flushed red; she lightly slapped his hand away and feigned anger: “What time is this, still acting so frivolous?”

“Everyone’s waiting—still fooling around?”

Seeing her half-resist, half-encouraging demeanor, Luo Jie laughed harder, reached out again to grasp her hand, clenching it tightly, his fingers lightly scratching her palm.

Ge Guangpei sighed and rolled her eyes, leaning close to his ear to whisper: “We’ll talk tonight—first, let’s get the martial contest over with.”

Now Itachi’re talking—I’m wide awake.

Luo Jie nodded, thoroughly satisfied.

…

Inside Jianhugong, the scene was bustling.

Martial artists from around Wuliang Mountain had packed the place, leaving no space to squeeze through.

They had all come upon hearing the news that the Eastern and Western Sects of Wuliang Sword Sect were holding another martial contest, eager to witness this grand event.

Most of all, they came to see one person.

The prodigy of Wuliang Sword Sect, the spiritual disciple of Xiaoyao Sect, the future martial alliance leader—Luo Jie.

At this moment, Luo Jie stood at the front of the Western Sect’s ranks, dressed in a dark blue martial robe.

He was indeed a striking figure.

His expression was calm.

This contest was merely a formality to Luo Jie.

Could the Eastern Sect possibly harbor any unrealistic hopes?

Bold!

If Lord Luo Jie cannot lead the Western Sect to continue ruling Jianhugong, then Wuliang Sword Sect has no reason to exist.

He was no easy man to deal with—he had strength and methods aplenty.

Beside Luo Jie, the Western Sect disciples stood alert and spirited.

Good. Very spirited.

All thanks to Luo Jie’s years of guidance.

Just then, a clear gong rang out across the arena, signaling the start of the contest.

The Eastern Sect sent out their first disciple—a man who stepped onto the training ground with a long sword, his eyes tinged with nervousness.

Seeing Luo Jie walk calmly onto the field,

the Eastern Sect disciple grew even more tense, his whole body trembling.

Wait—I’m fighting Brother Luo?

Won’t I just kneel down mid-fight?

Luo Jie, however, remained calm, raising his hand to bow slightly to his opponent.

The Eastern Sect disciple hurriedly returned the bow.

Martial etiquette required exchanging a few compliments before the contest.

Especially among fellow sect members.

Eastern and Western Sects were one family.

Though Luo Jie had long forgotten the man’s name, he remembered that last time, he’d defeated him in a few moves.

Still, as a proper Wuliang Sword disciple, Luo Jie began his praise.

“I’ve long heard Itachi’re the pride of the Eastern Sect—your strength rivals mine.”

The Eastern Sect disciple, sensing the watching eyes of his peers, quickly waved his hands, too nervous to speak.

I’m not, I didn’t, don’t say that.

Then he roared and charged forward.

Wuliang Sword Art—engage!

His figure flashed like lightning, his sword whistling as he slashed toward Luo Jie’s vital points.

Luo Jie remained unruffled, a faint smile curling at his lips.

He lightly tapped his foot, activating Lingbo Microsteps; his body moved like a phantom, effortlessly dodging the attack.

Then he unleashed Wuliang Sword Art—his sword became a nimble, glimmering dragon under the sunlight.

Each thrust carried the terrifying internal strength he had accumulated over years of practicing Beiming Divine Art.

This strike—five worlds’ martial arts—could it be blocked?

The sword wind howled, chilling to the bone.

Though the Eastern Sect disciple fought desperately, under Luo Jie’s overwhelming assault,

he couldn’t stand his ground.

His swordplay grew chaotic, his steps unsteady, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, his eyes filled with panic.

Luo Jie thrust his sword forward sharply—a fierce sword qi shot instantly toward his opponent.

The Eastern Sect disciple had no time to dodge; the qi struck him, sending him flying backward several zhang before crashing heavily to the ground, his sword falling from his grasp.

The entire arena fell silent.

That’s it? Already?

So fast.

Are Itachi kidding us?

Moments later, thunderous applause erupted from all sides.

Zuo Zimu sat at the upper seat inside the hall, watching Luo Jie on the field, his face showing a hint of helplessness and reflection.

He let out a long sigh and said slowly, "With Brother Luo present, it seems that for the next several decades, the Western Sect will dominate Jianhugong."

Zuo Zimu’s voice carried a hint of melancholy.

Damn it, I went to that village to recruit disciples too.

Why didn’t I discover Luo Jie as such a promising talent?

The greatest regret in life.

Xin Shuangqing sat beside him, watching her prized disciple, a look of satisfaction on her face.

She shook her head gently, saying nothing.

Pretending to be a master.

Would she admit she couldn’t even defeat Luo Jie?

(End of Chapter)