Chapter 25: Duel with the Onmyoji

Jin Bo’s retreat drew the attention of the Taoist who had been drinking and eating in the distance; he lifted his head in an instant, his eyes now filled with astonishment. The horizontal saber was the weapon of an army, its blade straight and majestic, carrying both the regal bearing of a sword and the domineering force of a saber. When Jin Bo’s saber was forged, it was imbued with special materials, its edge widened and its weight increased. Such a saber’s explosive power far surpassed that of ordinary weapons. Yet the youth’s sword was not only unbroken by the saber’s blow but had even driven Jin Bo back five paces. From the heavy, muffled clash, it was clear that both weapons were exceptional.

“The horizontal saber is wielded with two hands, the sword with one. Judging by this youth’s appearance, he can’t be more than twenty—how could he possess such strength?”

The Taoist knew Jin Bo well—his sworn brother was born with great strength, later tempered by martial training, making him robust and powerful enough to kill a bull with his bare fists. Jin Bo’s saber, weighing thirty jin, when swung with both hands, was like a great wave scouring the shore. His reputation in the martial world was not insignificant. An ordinary sword caught beneath his blade would be shattered in an instant.

“Boy, just who are you? What deep feud do you have with my third brother?”

Jin Bo had roamed the martial world for many years and was no fool. That one exchange had told him the youth before him was truly skilled; even if he exerted his full strength, victory was uncertain.

“I have no wish to kill. Step aside!”

Lu Xin’s face remained cold, unwilling to say more. At these words, Jin Bo’s lips twitched, his gaze turning instantly vicious. He surged forward, swinging his massive saber horizontally in a direct assault at Lu Xin’s side. The force of the strike was tremendous—before he’d even crossed half the distance, the cups and bowls on nearby tables shattered from the shock. By the time Lu Xin reacted, evasion was impossible. He stepped forward, gripping his sword with both hands, and spun his body close to the saber’s arc. This move, “Soaring Dragon,” had the sword follow his body’s rotation, sliding along the enemy’s weapon to dissipate its force with incredible speed.

In that moment, Jin Bo felt his saber tremble violently, the hilt jolting his palm so fiercely it seemed the blade would fly from his grasp. As he gritted his teeth to change his move, the youth’s sword slid swiftly along his weapon and pierced his chest.

“Impressive swordplay!”

With a muffled groan, Jin Bo staggered back again, this time unable even to grip his saber. Seeing this, Lu Xin arched a brow and withdrew his sword. He had only pierced Jin Bo’s flesh, not his tendons or heart. He had no enmity with this man and did not wish to kill.

Having spared Jin Bo, Lu Xin said nothing further and continued into the main hall. At the same time, the Taoist’s face darkened as he rose, flicking his horsetail whisk.

“I am Daoist Du Zhou of Liu Feng Monastery on Mount Dust. Your murderous intent is too great—take one step further and your life is forfeit.”

“Taoist, will you stop me as well?”

Lu Xin gripped his sword more tightly, a fiercer glint in his eyes. The Taoist ignored him, bowing his head and muttering incantations. Within two breaths, a ball of fire appeared in his hand, as if conjured from his very breath, burning out of thin air. Lu Xin, having witnessed the battle between Zhou Dian and the monk Huijing, immediately understood what this meant.

“An Onmyoji? In the household of Niu Fu, of all places.”

“Niu Ercheng is my sworn brother. You had better leave. Destroying others’ unions is not the way of the martial world.”

“Heh. You two are truly tiresome. Since you are sworn brothers, you are of the same ilk. Stand in my way and die!”

Lu Xin hadn’t expected to encounter an onmyoji in Niu’s household, but he felt no fear. At this moment, finding Tian Yuer and taking her from this place was his sole thought. With no fear in his heart, his sword flashed. With a cold snort, Lu Xin moved like a dragon, instantly closing in on the Taoist. This strike was meant to kill, executed with the “Wandering Dragon” footwork—his steps seemed weightless, yet with each one, his sword’s force grew.

The Taoist watched Lu Xin charging at him but did not move, not even to evade. It was only when Lu Xin’s sword was about to pierce his throat that he suddenly leaped, stepping onto the sword itself. Simultaneously, he pressed down with his palm, and the fire in his grip blazed larger. Lu Xin felt an intense wave of heat envelop his forehead, pain blinding his eyes. He hastily changed his stance to dodge, but still, his back was seared by the flames, forcing him to shed his blue robe.

Lu Xin was shaken; the Taoist’s agility seemed to exceed his own.

“You court death yourself—don’t blame me for taking advantage of my seniority. At least you’re alone today; there’ll be no one to spread word of your fate.”

After burning away Lu Xin’s outer garment, Daoist Du Zhou stood unmoving, whisk in one hand, intoning his title with the other, utterly confident. Lu Xin, though he had practiced swordsmanship for two years under a skilled master, lacked real combat experience and had never fought an onmyoji; he had no idea how to attack.

A sidelong glance showed Jin Bo clutching his wound outside the hall, making no move to intervene.

“This Taoist’s agility and reactions are superior to mine. Even if I use both the Wandering Dragon and Finishing Touch together, I may not win. What should I do? Yuer is in danger—there’s no time to lose!”

Lu Xin’s expression grew grim as he stared at Daoist Du Zhou, searching for any opening. But the Taoist remained calm and composed, giving him no chance to strike.

“What’s this? Afraid now? Since you refuse to leave, I won’t hold back.”

Daoist Du Zhou suddenly raised his head, a smirk on his lips as he pointed his whisk at Lu Xin. Instantly, a yellow talisman flew from his sleeve, transforming in the wind into hundreds of fiery raindrops. The temperature in the hall soared as the conjured fire rained down—this was real flame, not illusion.

“Supreme Truth Art—Heavenly Fire Edict, Release!”

With this command, Daoist Du Zhou’s breath rolled like a torrent, and the fire rain surged at Lu Xin as if with a will of its own—hundreds of fiery blades, unavoidable. As the fire rained down, the Taoist swallowed another talisman, transformed his right hand into an eagle’s claw, and lunged at Lu Xin, following the storm of fire.

The situation was perilous in the extreme. But in that instant, the youth suddenly closed his eyes, gripping his sword in both hands and swinging it in place.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

With each sweep of his sword, wine jars all around shattered, liquor spraying everywhere and filling the hall with its scent. When the fire rain hit the wine, it flared hotter but halted its advance.

A wall of fire now separated Lu Xin and Daoist Du Zhou.

“What sword technique is this? He can shatter objects at a distance—has he already cultivated inner force?”

Jin Bo, watching from outside, was astonished. He knew his sworn brother’s skills and the power of an onmyoji far surpassed ordinary fighters. But the youth’s abilities were clearly not those of a common swordsman.

Jin Bo did not fear killing, but he feared that someone with too prominent a background might die at his hands. If this was some scion of a great family or disciple of a powerful sect, things would become complicated. But now, there was no time to worry about that. For the Taoist had already leapt over the fire wall and seized Lu Xin’s sword barehanded.

Buzzing...

Daoist Du Zhou gripped the sword, not only unharmed but unleashing a tremendous force that made the blade quake violently. Lu Xin saw that the Taoist’s fingers had turned a dark purple-black, like some modern synthetic metal, harder even than his sword.

“Onmyoji—truly formidable!”

Lu Xin drew a deep breath, then shouted, his grip on the sword doubling in strength. The sword spun in the Taoist’s grasp like a pen’s tip, sending sparks flying. The youth stepped forward, channeling power with his left hand and slamming it against the hilt.

“Finishing Touch—Dragon Transformation!”

With a second shout, Lu Xin’s sword suddenly grew scorching hot and, with unstoppable force, pierced through the Taoist’s palm and struck his chest. In that instant, the blade shattered to powder, and the Taoist was hurled a dozen meters, crashing into the wall of the hall.

“Brother!”

Jin Bo’s face twisted in shock. He could not comprehend what had just occurred. His sworn elder brother was a powerful onmyoji—how had he been defeated by a youth?

Without hesitation, Jin Bo charged at Lu Xin, saber raised. At that moment, the youth’s back was turned; it was too late to dodge. But when the saber struck his back, he did not split in two; he merely staggered forward a few steps.

“How is this possible? What kind of monster are you—why can’t my blade kill you?”

Jin Bo was paralyzed with fear, staring at his saber as he backed away, his hands trembling and his voice shaking with terror.

“Heh... I spared your life, yet you sneak up behind me. Is this the code of the martial world? Is this how you repay me?”

Lu Xin turned, step by step advancing on Jin Bo, a cold smile on his lips. He held no sword now, and blood streamed from his mouth, yet in Jin Bo’s eyes the youth advancing toward him was as terrifying as a demon clawing its way out of hell.

“No, no, no... Don’t kill me, don’t kill me! Help! Help...!”

Jin Bo screamed in terror, dropped his saber, and fled. Lu Xin did not pursue. Only after Jin Bo vanished did he cough a mouthful of blood and collapse to the ground. The “Scripture of Virtuous Burial” could block the edge of a blade, but not its force. In truth, Jin Bo’s strike had already injured Lu Xin’s muscles and bones.

“Hahaha... Who would have thought—I, Li Cun Yun, so cautious all my life... cough, cough... would be defeated by a mere youth. Hahaha, it’s fate. That sword just now—you used inner force, didn’t you?”

Daoist Du Zhou lay in a corner, staring at the youth with wild laughter. He was not dead, but his upper body was shattered, his heart and lungs damaged, and he was crippled. Such an end was far more painful than death.