Chapter 236: Climbing the Tower, the Mighty Lord, the Swordman, the Legend

Boom—boom—boom—continued without end.

Three hundred elite imperial guards of Ying State, clad in heavy armor, were knocked flat onto the imperial avenue by that aura alone, unable to rise; their internal Qi seemed severed, unable to gather again.

The old man in blue robes casually flicked wine that surged like a dragon straight across three hundred zhang.

A heavy ring-bladed knife slashed down with crushing force.

The wine was split down the middle; the general reeled back three steps with his horse, exhaled sharply, raised his brows, revealing a rugged face, his armor grim and deadly, gripping his weapon, and praised: "Excellent sword aura."

General He Ruo Qinhu of Ying State.

Ranked fourth on the list of renowned generals under heaven, standing beside the twenty-something Second Prince in the Ying court, his martial achievements subtly surpassed Yuwen Lie's, though he was slightly older.

Originally a young lord of a western frontier tribe, he was generous and ambitious in youth, fierce with bow and horse; after being subdued by the Ying Emperor, he became a general of Ying State, his military tactics swift and brutal, having ridden the battlefield, devised strategies, and seized over ten cities from Chen State.

He brought a vast region north of the Dajiang River under Ying State's control.

He pushed the border between the two states from the Central Plains to the Jiangnan region.

He accomplished this feat at barely over thirty.

Thus he became renowned throughout the land; through relentless campaigns, he rose to the rank of Shang Zhu Guo general, now clad in armor, wielding a heavy blade radiating chilling flame, and simply said: "Master Jiankuang?"

The second words were: "Eat my blade!"

His steed roared and howled—a black tiger he had once subdued bare-handed; now roaring, it stirred violent winds and charged toward Elder Murong, but like Yuwen Lie—

He Ruo Qinhu split the sword madman's aura flow.

But he could not halt the sword madman's steps.

That aura flow, interrupted yet continuing, flowed like water, unceasing.

He Ruo, Qinhu, and Yuwen Lie turned back; even top generals joining forces, even a Jianghu Ninth Heaven Grandmaster, would be crushed beneath rolling cavalry and trampled into pulp—yet they could not stop the sword madman in this state.

They watched the blue-robed sword madman; this was Ying State's imperial palace, within this ducheng, besides three of the top five divine generals, many Jianghu experts remained.

When General Yue Qianfeng stormed Chen State's palace, he said only that he dared to enter Chen State's palace.

If it were Ying State's palace, he would likely have died on the spot.

Li Guanyi walked forward with the old man; still night, stars bright and shifting overhead, moonlight clear, hooves clattering as if from another world, Jianghu martial artists leaping into the air, sleeves sweeping, internal Qi swirling like flying dragons.

Then the dragons were smashed apart.

The blue-robed sword madman took each step, each distance identical.

His movements precise as drawing a sword.

The martial artist leaping up was the Grand Elder of Zhongyue Sword Sect, whose endless sword technique was famed to strike three thousand six hundred blows in a single breath—the fastest among all blades; the one staggering while drinking, yet holding a long spear, was a former prodigy of the Western Frontier Great Spear Village, who, unarmed, pierced through fifty iron Futu cavalry with a single spear.

The one standing lightly aloft was the senior disciple of the Daoist Xiantian.

The one with calm hands clasped, face filled with sorrow and helplessness, was another old monk of the Western Buddhist sect, an intimate friend of Li Guanyi's, who cultivated the Dragon-Elephant Jin Gang Body and the All-Pervading Luminous Method, each body cultivation method having its own strengths and weaknesses compared to the Buddha's Sutra on the Strength of the Immovable Mountain.

The master of the Sword Casting Valley bore thirteen higher-grade Xuan weapons on his back.

One held a divine artifact in both hands.

All around were Jianghu experts renowned across the land.

Yet none were worthy to meet the sword madman's single strike.

The blue-robed swordman shattered the swirling star-gathering swordlight with nothing but a wine flask, overturned the Buddhist golden light; Elder Murong glanced at Li Guanyi, who merely smiled: "Grandfather wants to drink? Go ahead."

Elder Murong smiled warmly:

"You stand here alone—aren't you afraid?"

Li Guanyi replied: "I am also a descendant of Elder Murong."

"I am also the son of Li Wanli and Su Changqing."

"I have things I wish to do, people I wish to meet. Grandfather, go drink your wine."

Then Elder Murong burst into loud laughter.

With one palm strike, he snatched the sword from the man hailed as the fastest swordsman in the world.

Just one sword.

The Western old monk's entire Jin Gang-Luminous body rippled violently, then shattered layer by layer; the Zhongyue Sword Sect's Grand Elder's wrist twisted, yet he shouted loudly: "Strike now! The Master Jiankuang has drawn his blade—his momentum has been broken!!!"

Jianghu experts came in waves, yet were all swept away by a single sword.

The white-haired sword madman finally roared with laughter: "Momentum?"

"Old man draws his blade!"

"Never builds momentum!"

One sword is one sword madman—who dares call himself a swordsman before me?

Li Guanyi watched Elder Murong depart freely, remaining where he stood; the old sword madman walked calmly, surrounded by two of the world's greatest generals and decades-renowned Jianghu experts, all on guard, poised to stop the madman.

The greatest swordsman in the world, head of the Shida Sect Grandmasters.

Li Guanyi turned his gaze.

He saw Ying State's palace; unlike Chen State's luxurious, detail-obsessed style, Ying State's palaces were ancient, vast, and solemn; before this ancient palace rose a particularly magnificent tower, soaring into the sky.

The blue-robed sword madman stood on the other side, drawing away Ying State's royal elites, generals, and Jianghu experts; the clash of blades and swords rang endlessly; Li Guanyi looked up and saw armored soldiers, swords and spears in hand, forming a ring around him ahead.

A young man, arrogant brow, about twenty, clad in splendid robes, holding a dark-patterned battle bow, arrow nocked, pointing at Li Guanyi, roared: "Li Guanyi!!!"

"How dare you trespass into the forbidden palace of my great Ying? How audacious!"

"A thousand deaths cannot atone—left and right, fire crossbows and kill him!"

"Kill him!"

Soldiers all raised crossbows, deadly blades aimed at Li Guanyi; the killing aura surged violently—then an old man's voice cried urgently: "Stop! Second Prince, halt! Li Guanyi is my Zhongzhou-enshrined Qin Wu Hou!"

"There may be some misunderstanding—do not raise weapons. Let us all calm down."

The old man, neat white hair, arrived carrying a sword case—it was the kind-hearted elder of the Ji clan; yet Li Guanyi raised his eyes and suddenly smiled: "Thank you, Elder, but today I carry no seal—here I am merely Li Guanyi, not Qin Wu Hou."

Li Guanyi lifted his gaze toward the tower, and thought.

It has been a full year already.

The young man thought: last year he left Jiangzhou City, marched northward, fought his way south, and arrived in the Jiangnan region in March; now, another year had passed, and today was the same day as last year—the day of the Great Sacrifice, the same day over a decade ago.

His mother and father fell during the Chen Kingdom's Great Sacrifice.

His mother bore most of the deadly poison for him, transferring the Divine Form to him.

Then she could not withstand the second wave of poison and died there.

The blood poison of Fei.

The orphan extended his hand and pressed it against his chest.

He had come here—where the past grudges and debts of his ancestors lay—and before him stood the emperor who overlooked all under heaven. Li Guanyi knew he could not kill this emperor, who had spent his life on horseback in war, but he must tell this man.

The son of Li Wanli has come.

Their son still carries the flame of vengeance.

Li Guanyi walked forward slowly; Jiang Yuan had not expected that, facing such an array, the boy would truly dare to advance.

"Li Guanyi."

"Stop!!!"

Jiang Yuan's eyes flashed with malice; he released the bowstring at once, and hundreds of armored soldiers fired a rain of arrows. Prince Ji Yanzhong roared in fury and struck out—red coiling dragons surged upward—but they were too far away to fully intercept.

Crossbow bolts fell like a storm, nearly piercing Li Guanyi—but in his hand, brilliant light flashed, as if thunder raced, crashing down and severing every arrow ahead. He turned his palm, and dark golden light spread outward.

The Tiger Roars to Heaven Halberd appeared in his grasp, spinning and whipping the arrows and bolts aside, cleaving them downward—this coordinated volley was finally stopped by the unarmored boy.

The Fire Qilin is not here.

Li Guanyi's breath burned hot as he exhaled slowly; weapons hummed in outcry, scattered arrows fell, his internal Qi surged at high speed, the blades before him shrieking like the low growl of a tiger.

Then, the dark golden aura of divine weaponry began to race over the boy's body.

His blue long robe was whipped and billowed by fierce winds.

Armor forged purely from internal Qi emerged on Li Guanyi's body, then dissolved.

It transformed into pure divine weaponry power.

Then he stepped forward again—suddenly, an old eunuch burst out from a high tower, his gaze sweeping over, and he spoke gravely: "His Majesty has ordered: no crossbows or bows may be used to surround and kill."

"No other troops may be mobilized."

Jiang Yuan froze, turned, and cried in panic: "What?!?"

"Father, this is the perfect chance! Li Guanyi is here—no troops, no generals! Pour every soldier into this and we can kill him right here! How can you give such an order?!"

The eunuch paid no heed to the furious Second Prince, only looked at Li Guanyi, and bowed.

"Qin Wu Hou."

"His Majesty waits for you atop the highest level of Zhaixing Tower. He says—"

The eunuch paused, then solemnly repeated the Emperor's words:

"If you have such courage, walk through these soldiers and come forward!"

"I am here, waiting for you to come!"

Li Guanyi's gaze swept ahead; despite the enemy, these Ying soldiers had abandoned their strongest crossbow formation—but under the Emperor's command, the three hundred soldiers showed not a moment's hesitation.

They dropped their crossbows and bows outright.

Then their right hands gripped sword hilts, swords drawn, spears raised.

Behind them, the Ying Imperial Guard, summoned and wielding axes and halberds, their commander rugged and bold, eyes like a tiger's, all halted in unison, watching Li Guanyi without advancing further.

Such is obedience to orders.

Such is fanatical devotion to the Emperor.

Li Guanyi advanced with his halberd; the armored soldiers roared and slashed at the boy. Li Guanyi's gaze remained calm; his internal Qi surged with the rhythm of his heartbeat. His spine stayed straight; a heavy sound of tearing air came forth.

A long blade slashed down, striking Li Guanyi's arm.

But this time, the blade could not cut through—internal Qi flowed, forming armor.

On the Imperial Road, the boy held the halberd.

He walks, and armor forms!

Dragon roars, tiger bellows, phoenix sings, Fire Qilin calls.

Jiang Yuan stared as if seeing a ghost—the boy's aura swelled like boiling water, rising rapidly, as if a crouching tiger finally roared across mountains and rivers, as if a dragon soared into the nine heavens.

A wild beast transforms into a king.

Third Heaven Realm!

Li Guanyi reached the foot of Zhaixing Tower; the white-haired eunuch looked at this heroic youth, bowed respectfully, then turned to the Imperial Guard and said: "His Majesty's order: all shadow agents and Imperial Guard, do not enter."

Then he stepped aside and extended a hand inward: "Qin Wu Hou."

"Please."

Li Guanyi extended his hand—the Tiger Roars to Heaven Halberd shrieked. Suddenly, he twisted his wrist, sweeping the weapon in a horizontal arc, unleashing a gale of tearing wind, then pointed the blade forward.

The tiger's open maw spat a razor-sharp halberd tip, shrieking violently as it moved.

The sharp point aimed straight at Zhaixing Tower, not far from the eunuch's neck; surrounding soldiers turned pale, weapons hummed, armor clanged with deadly intensity. Li Guanyi was no sword madman—he faced thousands of Imperial Guards and would die if he struck.

Jiang Yuan's face flushed red—blood-fury, the arrogance born of hidden strength, the confidence of backing—but the young general's expression did not change.

A thousand soldiers before him—and his face remained unmoved.

Li Guanyi twisted his wrist.

The halberd plunged into the ground.

The earth cracked; the tiger's roar echoed endlessly. He slowly withdrew his hand and said:

"Lead the way."

The eunuch froze, staring at the boy who had left his divine weapon beneath Zhaixing Tower—and for the first time, he felt a grandeur and spirit akin to the Ying Emperor's: one who halted three armies and calmly awaited his guest; the other who faced an army without flinching, leaving his divine weapon below the tower.

He fell silent for a long time, then suddenly understood why the lord held him in such high regard.

The blood of heroes across the land, like a great wind, never dies.

He bowed, lowered his gaze, his face wearing an expression of reverence, and spoke softly:

"The lord is above, waiting for you."

Jiang Yuan rushed over and said: "Grand Supervisor, my father…"

The eunuch extended his arm and blocked Jiang Yuan.

The Grand Supervisor, who had always smiled warmly in the past, now gazed with calm stillness:

"The Son of Heaven did not permit the Imperial Prince to enter."

Jiang Yuan froze, pointing at Li Guanyi, disbelieving:

"He can, but I cannot?!"

Jiang Yuan roared in furious resentment: "I am the son of my father and mother! I am the Imperial Prince of Da Ying! Is there any place in this world I cannot go?!"

The Grand Supervisor replied: "You are not enough."

Jiang Yuan's movement halted; the Grand Supervisor gazed at the prince and said:

"This is a discussion between feudal lords and mighty rulers—only the legitimate eldest son may observe. Your status and spirit are still insufficient to step onto this place, Your Highness. Step back. Do not make the Son of Heaven speak a second time."

"The Son of Heaven is serious."

Jiang Yuan fell silent, struck by fear.

Then he stepped back.

Thus he did not see the regret and sigh hidden in the eyes of the Grand Supervisor, who had marched with his father to subdue the four corners of the land.

He possessed wit and cunning, but lacked sufficient Zi Yi spirit.

The young general in plain robes ascended the Zhai Xing Tower.

On both sides, the Imperial Guards bowed their heads, solemn and still; Li Guanyi could feel that a dragon-like figure sat atop the tower's highest level—the natural aura radiating from him made ordinary men unable to ascend, and those with weak Wu Gong could not approach.

But only Wu Gong, without spirit, could not face the sovereign of all under heaven.

Li Guanyi advanced calmly.

This was the flame of an emperor who rose from a lesser son, roamed his entire life, seized the Central Plains, and devoured the heavens—his aura seemed bound to the fate of the nation; to sit before such a man, one must reveal one's true self.

Like silk being torn apart, just as he ascended calmly.

Beneath the overwhelming spirit of the lord who held the Central Plains, Li Guanyi's mind grew empty and clear, as if forged—his internal Qi, long pushed to the extreme of the Second Layer, began to swirl rapidly.

And his Yuan Shen descended with it.

The Fourth Layer Yuan Shen collided with the Second Layer internal Qi.

A swift transformation began; Li Guanyi climbed step by step.

The sounds of dragon roars and tiger roars grew louder; at first, the crowd thought it was Li Guanyi's Wu Gong, but now it became undeniably real—the Grand Supervisor lifted his head, gazing at the tower, as Bai Hu and Chi Long appeared and vanished one after another.

The place seemed transformed into myth—Qi thickened, Bai Hu pressed its paws, Chi Long roared long and deep, until all rose and fell, gathered and dispersed, coalescing into a Fire Qilin.

Martial Path Third Layer—broken through!

Martial Path, Fourth Layer!

Xushen Stage—broken through!

Shen Yun Stage—broken through!

Martial Path Fourth Layer, Perfect Realm!

Finally, Li Guanyi reached the summit, where he saw a painting of a beautiful woman; behind it, at the very top, overlooking Da Ying and all under heaven, an old man sat quietly.

"You've come, Li Guanyi."

He smiled, calm and composed, like an aged dragon.

Before him lay a chessboard, a pot of wine, and two wine cups.

He had always believed Li Guanyi would reach this point, and smiled serenely:

"Murong Longtu said he wanted wine—I have wine, and I've been waiting for you."

Li Guanyi took a step forward; the Fire Qilin's roar surged violently, nearly reaching a volume audible to all—Prince Ji Yanzhong held the sword case of Chi Xiao Sword, whose cry grew fierce, just like the mighty Tiger Roar Battle Spear before the Zhai Xing Tower.

Prince Ji Yanzhong's emotions surged within him.

He raised his head, gazing at the summit.

The Fire Qilin stepped forward, while the ink-black dragon slowly coiled.

Martial Path, Fifth Layer!

Jiang Yuan's body seemed drained of strength; he watched helplessly as the so-called Second Layer martial cultivator ascended the tower, step by step, stripping away his disguise, revealing fangs and claws—Li Guanyi, since childhood trained by Murong Qiushui to prioritize Yuan Shen, blended with internal Qi under the guidance of Jian Kuang, through countless battles of life and death, now fully unveiled.

Li Guanyi looked at the Emperor of Da Ying and sat down.

Emperor Jiang Wanxiang said: "You possess the same heroic spirit as Li Wanli."

He looked at Li Guanyi and said:

"The poison was not ordered by me."

"But the one who administered it was my subject—thus, the deaths of him and his wife rest upon me, and if you seek revenge against me, it is only natural."

"The ruler is ruler, the minister is minister—the blood debt committed by a minister for his ruler becomes the ruler's own debt."

"These two lives and this blood debt—I must bear them."

"But now, you cannot kill me."

Jiang Wanxiang remained calm; his aura was immensely profound, his martial prowess formidable, his mastery of Da Ying's Son of Heaven's ultimate teachings—yet his realm was barely between the peak of Fourth Layer and Fifth Layer. He said to Li Guanyi: "I know you cannot kill me now. I came only to see you, and to let you see me."

Jiang Wanxiang said calmly: "I have heard that those seeking revenge should conceal themselves."

"They swallow charcoal to mute their voices, dye their skin black, scar their faces—fearing their enemy will know them."

"Yet you came here yourself—you are exposing yourself."

Li Guanyi said: "You know me already—why hide it?"

Jiang Wanxiang laughed: "You're just like your father—very much alike. Since you can't kill me, I want to kill you—but there's Elder Murong, so I can't kill you now. Please, sit down."

"Two enemies meeting for the first time—let's drink two cups of wine, then play a game of go."

He made Li Guanyi sit.

Then he poured wine himself and pushed it over: "Please."

Li Guanyi looked at it, raised the cup, and drank. Jiang Wanxiang picked up the go board and smiled: "After all these years, finally another young hero. But today's outcome won't be decided by just the two of us—it'll be decided by those two."

"Let's see how it turns out."

"Before that—play the game."

Jiang Wanxiang didn't speak of the great tide of the realm; he simply picked up the go board and pieces, inviting Li Guanyi to play with him. The outcome of this match would be decided by martial power—the Master Jiankuang, Jiang Su.

Jiang Wanxiang said: "When the Master Jiankuang falls, come with me to Zhongzhou."

"The Son of Heaven's inspection—we must take part. I don't intend to seize you immediately…" The old king smiled: "I asked General Yuwen about your policies—he refused to reveal details, yet urged me to treat the people better."

"Your flame has reached him. Tell me—why do you think I don't kill you?"

Jiang Wanxiang asked with a smile.

Li Guanyi held a go piece and said coolly: "You dare not."

Jiang Wanxiang's smile grew still.

The young boy raised his brow, speaking lazily: "The momentum in Jiangnan is already formed. Killing me would only harden Jiangnan and the Taiping Army into desperate, grieving warriors—what purpose would that serve?"

"Your goal is to swallow Chen, isn't it?"

"An enraged Jiangnan will surely bind your steps."

"You don't kill me because your ambition is greater. My life is worth less than the realm—dare you take it?"

Jiang Wanxiang looked at Li Guanyi.

He laughed: "They say only heroes can understand a hero's heart. You are my kindred spirit. And your next move—isn't it the Western Regions? To seize that chaos and carve a path open for Jiangnan."

"I can help you. Chen must die before you and I."

The young and the old faced each other, placing their go pieces.

The sound was crisp.

Wind swept through the highest window of Zhaixing Tower, rushing out—knives and swords shattered and fell. The realm's masters had all been defeated. After long silence, the earliest martial legend of the realm stepped into the air, gripping a long-hafted heavy blade.

He stood atop Zhaixing Tower on Jiang Wanxiang's side.

Murong Qiuishui stood atop Zhaixing Tower on Li Guanyi's side.

The moon had sunk a third, but the great sun had not yet risen.

The sovereign played go; the hero held arms.

Jiang Su looked at the green-robed Master Jiankuang, white hair flying, and felt a trace of regret: "Murong Qiuishui, the Master Jiankuang's blade carries too much killing intent."

"You never pursued the Dao—you cannot take this step. Now, your sword remains bound to the earth, rooted in mortal heart."

Murong Qiuishui laughed aloud.

With a sweep of his sleeve, sword light slashed across the heavens.

The Murong Clan's forged Xuan Weapon Fifty-Seven appeared in the air. The Master Jiankuang Murong Qiuishui seized one and thrust forward: "Come!"

The sword light flowed clear and smooth, like still autumn water.

Qiushui Sword!

The second sword's light stretched endlessly—across the vast sky!

Below Zhaixing Tower, soldiers looked up. In mere strikes, sword qi became a waterfall, frost chilling all the provinces. Inside the tower, the old man and the boy played go, black and white crossing, the crisp sound of stones on board—this board was the realm.

Above and below, sword qi filled the heavens.

Qiushui, Changkong, thirty thousand li.

Sword pressure crushed Jiangnan, nineteen provinces!

Murong Qiuishui had unleashed six swords in one breath.

Facing the martial legend.

Not an inch of ground lost!