Chapter 237: The Fifteenth Sword

Zhuangyuan Lou.

The second floor.

Xiahou Xing had already thrust thirty-three times.

Suddenly, his long sword flickered, and these thirty-three strikes merged into a single blow, like a peerless, brilliant rainbow, thrusting toward Yu Liancheng.

This strike had exhausted his life's efforts; it was his absolute peak. Not to mention the past, from this day forward, he would never be able to execute such a strike again.

It was not because he had no further room for improvement.

It was because Yu Liancheng had already made his move.

One of Yu Liancheng's hands had reached out; that slender, jade-like hand did not even make contact with the long sword, but with a light flick, a strange and inexplicable force swept toward Xiahou Xing's long sword.

A look of unprecedented terror instantly appeared on Xiahou Xing's face.

Because he discovered that the strike he had thrust with all his might had inexplicably lost its aim; his own palm and his own sword refused to obey him, bending in mid-air and thrusting back toward his own chest.

There are many martial arts in the world that borrow force to strike back, but only this move of Yu Liancheng's could truly be called peerless in the martial arts world, marvelous under heaven.

"No!"

A voice, old and hoarse yet like thunder, rang out.

The person who emitted this sound was actually the elderly coachman. He was white-haired, thin, and small, but at this moment, it was as if a thunderous power was contained within his body; he leaped out, his speed unimaginably fast.

It was just a pity that he was still a step too slow.

Xiahou Xing's sword had already pierced into his own chest, fresh blood splattered, red as agate, and he stared straight at Yu Liancheng before collapsing.

The white-haired old coachman looked at Xiahou Xing's corpse, his eyes revealing an indescribable sorrow, his whole body trembling incessantly as if from grief.

"You... you killed him!?"

Yu Liancheng sighed lightly: "I had already given him many chances; not only did he not cherish a single one, he even went from bad to worse. Perhaps this is because he simply does not know how to be cautious, or perhaps it is because he has you and the Xia Hou family as his backing, believing that no one could kill him."

The old man stopped speaking, and after a long silence, he sighed deeply: "Those who study the sword die by the sword; furthermore, this strike was thrust by his own hand, so he should have no complaints and no regrets."

Yu Liancheng clapped his hands and laughed: "Correct, it is only right and proper, no complaints and no regrets."

The old man silently carried Xiahou Xing's corpse down, placed it in the carriage, and then slowly walked back up.

His spine had straightened, like a javelin. In those old, weary eyes, a sharp, piercing light suddenly shot forth.

A vast aura radiated from his body; with every step he took, this aura grew stronger by a fraction, almost pressing those nearby until they couldn't breathe, forcing them to retreat again and again.

There was no lack of martial artists in this "Zhuangyuan Lou".

At this very moment, how could they not see that this seemingly ordinary, plain coachman was actually a supreme master of the world.

But how could such a master be willing to be someone else's coachman?

The old man held a sword in his palm, his eyes shining with a brilliant light as he looked at Yu Liancheng: "Are you a swordsman?"

Yu Liancheng said: "I am a swordsman."

The old man said: "Since that is the case, then dying by my sword, you should also have no complaints and no regrets."

Yu Liancheng said indifferently: "Make your move; I also want to see just how powerful Xiahou Feishan, the strongest master in Red Cloud Valley, truly is."

Xiahou Feishan!?

A series of gasps rang out.

Following Yu Liancheng's hint, the people present finally knew the identity of the old man before them.

More than twenty years ago, the strongest master of Red Cloud Valley was not the current master, Xiahou Zhongshan, but his younger brother, Xiahou Feishan.

But Xiahou Feishan had already been missing for many years, and to this day, no one knew his whereabouts, making it a secret case.

Combining the rumors from back then with the current situation, the crowd vaguely had a guess.

—Did Xiahou Feishan disappear in the past because he had an illicit affair with his sister-in-law, something that could not be seen by others?

—After he disappeared, he returned to be Xiahou Xing's coachman, protecting Xiahou Xing at every moment; could it be that Xiahou Xing was the son born of this illicit relationship?

Such things are not rare among great and powerful clans.

Of course, apart from the parties involved, others could only guess.

"Be careful!"

Xiahou Feishan's sword had already thrust out; as the sword thrust, the *clack-clack* of hidden mechanisms turning sounded, and silver light danced across the sky, weaving into a net of heaven and earth, covering Yu Liancheng like a deluge.

His sword did not seem much more brilliant than Xiahou Xing's.

But there was one point that Xiahou Xing could not reach even if he practiced for another ten years.

That was that his sword had gained a spirit.

The fragments dancing in the air seemed to have truly transformed into thousands of silver snakes and electric flood dragons, biting toward Yu Liancheng from all directions, capable of tearing every inch of his flesh and blood clean away in an instant.

A divine light flashed in Yu Liancheng's eyes, and he slapped the table again; the entire basket of chopsticks flew out, transforming into streaks of black light that collided with the fragments.

In the blink of an eye, the chopsticks were ground into wood shavings, fluttering in the air.

And the momentum of this sword strike was also exhausted; Yu Liancheng flicked his finger against a fragment, and with a *ding-ding-dang-dang* sound, this strike was dissolved into nothingness.

Xiahou Feishan flicked his wrist, and the fragments condensed into a sword.

"I know that you once fought the father of Yan Shisan on the peak of Mount Hua and suffered a crushing defeat under the Life-Taking Thirteen Swords."

Xiahou Feishan was about to strike again, but Yu Liancheng suddenly spoke: "With your temperament, you would certainly have exhausted all your time and heart's blood studying the Life-Taking Thirteen Swords. Under heaven, apart from Yan Shisan, I fear there is no one who understands the Life-Taking Thirteen Swords better than you."

Xiahou Feishan's expression darkened further: "So..."

"So you had best use the Life-Taking Thirteen Swords to deal with me, especially the latter two variations; otherwise, with your Xia Hou family's ancestral sword techniques, there is absolutely no chance of victory."

The anger in Xiahou Feishan's heart grew even more intense, and he let out a long howl: "Good, what an arrogant brat."

Although Yu Liancheng looked down upon the Xia Hou family's sword techniques, he himself understood that the Xia Hou family's sword techniques could not deal with Yu Liancheng.

Even the Life-Taking Thirteen Swords could not.

Only the last two variations of the Life-Taking Thirteen Swords.

Even for the fourteenth variation, Xiahou Feishan could not be certain.

Only the Fifteenth Sword is a sword that heaven and earth will not tolerate.

And only a sword technique that heaven and earth will not tolerate can deal with this "Heaven Beyond Heaven, Person Beyond Heaven."

As for whether this sword can truly be unleashed, and whether he himself will have a way to survive after unleashing this sword that heaven and earth will not tolerate, Xiahou Feishan himself has no answer.

But with Xiahou Xing dead, he has no other attachments; if he can unleash this sword in its entirety, it will not have been a life lived in vain.

"Fine, I will grant your wish!"

Xiahou Xing's sword has already been thrust out.

The instant this sword was thrust out, an overwhelming murderous intent permeated the air, and the entire restaurant seemed to be stained a blood-red. Everyone's complexion turned ghastly pale, and an incomparable sense of panic spread through their hearts.

The sword strikes.

The Fifteenth Sword.

A sword of endless deathly silence, a sword that represents death.

PS: Chapter Four, requesting monthly votes.