Chapter 246: Yan Shisan, Life-Taking Thirteen Swords

Thick fog, flowing water.

Beside the darkness, reed flowers rustle, the river water flows silently, and the fog on the river is as thick as smoke.

A faint glimmer of fire flickers on the river surface.

It is not firelight.

It is a stove fire.

A lone boat, a small red-clay stove, flickering with firelight, illuminating an old man sitting cross-legged at the bow of the boat, wearing a green bamboo hat and a green straw cape, his full head of white hair like frost.

A bitter yet crisp fragrance drifts in the wind; it is tea, and also medicine.

In the old man's hands are a wooden stick and a knife—a four-foot-long wooden stick, a seven-inch-long knife.

The old man is using this knife to slowly whittle the wooden stick.

The blade is extremely sharp, and the knife in his hand is extremely steady.

No one could tell how such an aged person could have such steady hands.

The wooden stick is gradually whittled into shape; it is the shape of a sword.

The four-foot-long wooden stick has been whittled into a three-foot-seven-inch-long sword, with a hilt and a blade.

The old man gently strokes the blade, the stove fire flickering on his face; his face wears a strange expression, as if he is excited, yet also as if he is fearful, nostalgic, sighing...

The old man grips the sword hilt and slowly stands up.

The sword tip hangs down, yet his hunched body suddenly becomes straight.

In this instant, the old man seems to have become a different person.

It is as if a sharp sword that had been kept in a tattered leather sheath has suddenly been drawn, flashing with a daunting edge.

In this instant, the old man also seems to be glowing.

This light gives his entire being life.

The river water drifts, the light boat floats on the water.

The old man stares at the sword blade in his hand and thrusts out a light, airy sword strike. This strike originally had no variations, but the variation suddenly arrived, as natural as flowing water.

This lifeless wooden sword, in the old man's hand, is like the axe in the hand of Lu Ban, the brush in the hand of Xizhi; it not only has life, but also spirit.

He is effortless, moving with Ruyi.

Very quickly, thirteen sword strikes have been thrust.

Every strike is an unparalleled killing move in the world, the moves linked together; every variation is filled with infinite murderous intent, one move following another, each move surpassing the last. Even if someone could dodge the first strike, they could not dodge the second, the third...

This sword technique is vicious and poisonous; once unleashed, that endless murderous aura could drown a person.

And when the thirteen strikes are finished, the sword momentum has been contained to the extreme, like a volcano about to erupt.

But at this very moment, the old man stops, and all the variations have vanished completely. All the agility has become dull and rigid.

"A fine Yan Shisan, a fine Life-Taking Thirteen Swords." By the riverbank, a man in black has appeared, standing with his hands behind his back, looking at the old man with burning eyes, looking at the sword in his hand: "However, although this Life-Taking Thirteen Swords is brilliant, compared to the two subsequent changes, it is not worth mentioning."

The old man suddenly looks at the man in black, his eyes flashing with a light sharper than a knife, and he says hoarsely: "You can see the two subsequent changes?"

"Of course." The man in black taps his toes, his body like a drifting dark cloud, and he glides onto the light boat: "Let me introduce myself, my name is Yu Liancheng."

"Yu Liancheng?" The old man murmurs: "I have been in seclusion for seven years, yet I did not know the Edo had produced such an expert as you."

Yu Liancheng looks at the old man and cannot help but sigh: "I fear that all the experts in the Edo would never have imagined that the once invincible Yan Shisan of seven years ago would have aged into such a state."

Yan Shisan and Xie Xiaofeng are of the same generation, and perhaps even younger than Xie Xiaofeng.

But Yan Shisan's current appearance is even more aged than Xie Xiaofeng's father, Xie Wangsun.

Anyone in the Edo with a modicum of common sense knows that the higher the martial arts and the deeper the Internal Force, the more one can delay the aging process. Among top experts, there is no lack of those with youthful faces and white hair; if one practices certain exotic arts, one can even keep one's appearance unchanged from youth.

Yet the Yan Shisan before him seems to be seventy or eighty years old, his hair white, wrinkles piled up, his essence, energy, and spirit exhausted to the extreme, his whole body carrying an irrepressible air of twilight.

Generally speaking, a martial arts expert would only reach this state for three reasons: either they were poisoned, or they experienced a great Dabei in a short time, turning white-haired overnight, or they accidentally broke their cultivation, their pure Internal Force flowing away like water.

Yan Shisan is none of these three; he has poured his entire heart and soul into the Fifteenth Change, exhausting his life's blood. Furthermore, because the Fifteenth Sword is not tolerated by Heaven and Earth, deducing this sword naturally invites punishment from Heaven, hence he has become what he is now.

Yan Shisan does not care about his aged body; as long as he can unleash that sword, for him, even if he died immediately, it would be worth it.

He looks at Yu Liancheng's well-maintained hands and suddenly asks: "Are you a swordsman?"

"Indeed, and my martial arts and Sword Technique are even above those of Xie Xiaofeng." Yu Liancheng suddenly leans down, his arm scooping into the stream; with a "splash" of water, when he stands up again, there is already a sword in his palm.

—A water sword.

It is a sword condensed from the stream water.

Both hilt and blade are present.

It still glitters with rippling water light.

Yan Shisan's eyes flash with an edge; just seeing this skill of binding water into a sword, he knows the other party's Internal Force is extremely profound.

"You unleashed the first thirteen swords, and I felt something, so I have come to test the Fourteenth Sword." Yu Liancheng holds the water sword and suddenly thrusts forward.

After Yan Shisan unleashed the Life-Taking Thirteen Swords, the Sword Qi and murderous aura on the river were very heavy, like dense clouds covering the sky. But as this sword thrust out, it suddenly pushed aside the clouds, revealing the sunlight.

But this is not the warm, gentle sunlight, but a sunset as red as blood, a scorching sun that melts gold and stone.

The entire world suddenly dims, revealing a doomsday-like silence; all things in heaven and earth seem to lose their color at this moment because of this sword.

And after this Fourteenth Sword is thrust, all the variations in this sword technique have truly reached their end, just like a dried-up river.

Yu Liancheng shakes his head, then looks at Yan Shisan with burning eyes and says: "The Fourteenth Sword is already an unparalleled Sword Technique, but the essence of the 'Life-Taking Thirteen Swords' lies in the Fifteenth Change; that is the truly life-taking sword."

A divine light suddenly shoots from Yan Shisan's eyes: "You want to see it?"

"Indeed, who among the martial artists of the world would not want to see it?" Yu Liancheng says calmly.

"Good, although I have not yet fully deduced this sword, it is close enough. Only a swordsman like you is worthy of appreciating the style of this sword."

Yan Shisan unfolds his long sword and once again unleashes the Life-Taking Thirteen Swords; he has not yet fully mastered the Fifteenth Sword and needs to use the previous fourteen swords as a lead-in.

In the blink of an eye, the thirteen swords have been thrust.

Immediately following, Yan Shisan slowly swings out another sword.

This belongs to the Fourteenth Sword of Yan Shisan.

This sword move appears aimless and without structure, yet it is like the dotting of the eyes on Wu Daozi's dragon; though empty, it acts as the pivot for all transformations.

Once the Fourteenth Sword is unleashed, all changes are like flowing water reaching its end.

But just at this moment, Yan Shisan thrust out another sword.

An aura of "death" suddenly permeated the air.

Life ends, all things perish; there is no change and no vitality.

Although this sword was not thrust at Yu Liancheng, Yu Liancheng had already felt an unprecedented chill.

This sword was, shockingly, the Fifteenth Sword.

With a "snap," the wooden sword broke.

Before it could even fall to the ground, it turned into a cloud of powder and drifted away with the wind.