The World Of Swords Volume 1 Chapter 7

“Run, run. . . ”

More than ten horses were running wildly on the road, and each of the riders were holding weapons on their backs. They looked straight ahead with coldness.

A hawk flew down like a bolt of lightning from the heavens, and stood on the shoulder of the leader of the little squad. The leader raised his hand; all of them slowed down.

As the horse trotted at an easy pace, he unbound a little bamboo tube from the leg of the hawk, and took out a roll of paper to read the message.

“Order from the headquarters: Go to Fengshui County immediately.”

Without hesitation, the leader wheeled his horse around and led the riders back in the other direction.

This was a small town, with many stores and crowded with people.

In a restaurant, several big, rough men were sitting around a table, eating from dishes and drinking wine from their bowls.

“This time, the world was stirred up. Those leading clans could not avoid being drawn into the turbulence.” Someone was talking excited while chewing his meat.

“Yup! That is the Sword Zhongfeng, one of the nine swords. Who could be completely indifferent? What’s more, the owner is a little kid. He is nothing in the top clans’ eyes. How could they keep calm?” Another man kept on with the topic.

“I heard that four of the nine national clans had sent out underlings to Fengshui County. And three of the top families have also joined in. Let alone the rest of the countless artists, famous or nameless, powerful or weak. Fengshui County will be b.l.o.o.d.y soon.”

“It is easier to get the sword than it is to keep it.”

One man in nattier blue clothes sitting beside had heard all the narratives from them. He was drinking slowly by himself.

He thought, Why not go take a look?

He called the waiter and threw him some silver money and left.

Sheya Cave was located in a valley. This valley was only three meters wide with a depth of a hundred meters. On the mountain top of both sides of the valley, the gangs were sitting or standing in lines to guard their valley.

In the valley, by the end of the road was a huge karst cave. At the entrance, two stalact.i.tes were hanging on both sides, making the cave entrance like the open mouth of a serpent. Dozens of gangs were gathering and talking inside.

“You mean, the young man defeated Pangfei with a casual sweep of that sword?” A man with a curly beard was sitting in a stone chair carved into the mountain cliff; all the others were standing on the lower ground to report to him.

“Yes, Head Leader.”

“Head Leader, our second brother died so pitifully. The young man did not even take a look at us. We should get revenge for him, otherwise, how can we stand in the world?”

“Yes, though the young man was powerful, we are many. I don’t believe we can’t kill him,” another underling agreed.

“But. . . ” The head leader shook his head. Though the deputy leader was not as powerful as him, he could not defeat Pangfei in one casual sweep.

“Message. . . ” Just then, a small gang entered.

“Head Leader, the sword Zhongfeng appeared in the world. The owner was a young man of about fifteen to sixteen. He went to the White Horse Temple, and now, he is in Fengshui County, less than fifty kilometers from us.”

In the sunset, a young man was walking alone, with his sword on resting on his shoulder.

“Though I lost the fight in the White Horse Temple,” the young man said to himself as he took a look at his hand with the pinkie cut, “the information must have spread throughout the world. The people who destroyed my family should have heard of this already. My sword or myself could be the bait.”

His mind was running while he was slowly walking. “From what they’ve witnessed, I am weaker than the top artists, so they will not be afraid or prepared. . . ” He looked ahead coldly. “I will . . . give them a surprise, then.”

The Sword Villa was one of the nine national clans. Any enemy that could destroy it in one night—for sure they were powerful. But he was not afraid of them. He chose the Xuanyuan Dragon Art for the day he was to meet with them. Though some rumors about this art had been spread throughout the world, only their family members fully understood this art. Once you reached the third grade of this art, you could speed up in a short time; meanwhile, the body would be harmed by it. He was thinking of upgrading his cultivation to an astonishing level, with the consequence of losing his life in several days. Anyway, it was worth it if he could avenge the 273  lives that had been lost in the villa.

He stepped toward the little town ahead steadily, with his mind made up.

Some of the lights were on. Many citizens chose to hang around outside after dinner.

“A guest room,” he called to the waiter when he entered an inn, and threw out some sliver money.

The man in charge of the reception answered him, “The seventh room of the third block.”

In the hall of the inn, dozens of guests were sitting in small bunches, talking with each other. When they saw him, their voices lowered.

“Isn’t he the young man from the White Horse Temple?” Someone had recognized him.

Though the others didn’t know him, they’d already heard his name.

“With one finger cut, holding a wide sword—it’s him, it’s him,” someone muttered.

Their looks became awkward. Under the order of their clans, they were about to set out searching for him, even if it meant combing over the whole world, and yet here he was, presenting himself before them without any effort on their part.

“He was bold to challenge Doukong,” a drunk man said.

“This is a cunning one; he bet Doukong was a kind one who wouldn’t take his sword,” another middle-aged man said with a laugh.

With a sharp sound, a black shadow shot into his mouth.

“Who . . . who threw this bone at me?” He was so irritated that he stood up, his face red as pork liver.

“Hhha . . . !”

The whole audience in the hall laughed at him.