A glint of cold steel appeared, forcing Wei Yu to retreat with but a single sword stroke!

Passersby along the road cast sidelong glances, their eyes drawn to the scene: Wei Yu, long sword held horizontally, pressed against the wall.

An involuntary silence fell upon them.

Wei Yu was no nameless junior. He was recognized by the people of Qin as the foremost Teng Long, a heaven-blessed talent of Great Qin! His future prospects were boundless, destined for greatness far beyond his current standing. Yet, facing a peer of his own realm, he seemed to be at a disadvantage.

Who could be this formidable opponent?

“Splendid!”

Wei Yu exclaimed once more, his voice filled with admiration.

“The glory of the flying sword era… my heart yearns for it, yet I was born too late. To witness such an ancient method of the flying sword today is indeed my good fortune!”

He spun his long sword, holding it angled before him. With a step back, his entire being surged forward. An incredibly potent and fierce sword intent gathered within him, fusing with his spirit, solidifying his momentum and power, roaring and condensing without cease…

Finally, both man and sword launched forward as one.

Yet, the man facing him remained rooted in place, still leaning against the wall, his posture relaxed, merely raising a hand before him, index finger slightly lifted, flicking it gently forward.

A single point of cold light seemed to manifest from the void, meeting the very tip of the long sword Wei Yu had suddenly thrust out.

Wei Yu had no desire to unleash that sword at that moment. He was still seven paces from his opponent.

But he *had* to strike!

In that instant, his sword told him that if he did not, he would die!

His momentum incomplete, his intent not fully expressed, yet the sword was already unleashed. It was only at the instant their sword tips clashed that he truly, for the first time, clearly saw his opponent’s sword.

It was a flying sword without a hilt, now expanded to over two feet in length. Its entire form appeared as pure sword light, every inch sharp, every inch dazzling. It seemed insubstantial, as if endless sword light had been forged into a single sword.

Yet, it met his own long sword, and was undeniably real.

Technique was useless. Any technique he possessed could not block this sword. Wei Yu clearly recognized this point. Any action other than swinging his sword was a burden in this moment. He could only rely on his own palm-sword techniques, rely on the superhuman sword art he had diligently practiced!

His sword art was, after all, his greatest strength.

In that critical moment, Wei Yu channeled his Dao Yuan to its fullest, infusing it into his sword. With pure force overcoming momentum, he sent the flying sword reeling! Then, twisting his body, he traced a wondrous arc through the air, slicing through the wind, moving with absolute speed and ruthlessness, bringing his vertical sword down upon his enemy!

Again, that sound rang out.

Wei Yu, even as he raised his sword to advance, was once more forced to strike ahead, halting his progress by the flying sword!

*How can I be so ineffective?*

This single thought echoed in Wei Yu’s heart.

He twisted his wrist, and the long sword in his hand also twisted, following the agile flying sword for several turns. The spiraling sword qi in the air formed a vortex, actually managing to temporarily restrain that incredibly nimble flying sword.

Divine Sword Art!

And Wei Yu himself, following the opening created by his twisting sword qi, surged straight forward…

The sword he had prepared for a killing blow was once more forced to be used defensively, horizontally blocking the flying sword that had suddenly appeared before him!

Others might not understand, but he saw it clearly.

This flying sword was too sharp!

It easily shattered his spiral sword qi, completely unhindered. His opponent hadn’t dodged or avoided the twist; he had deliberately given him that opportunity, simply to force him to waste his killing sword in this moment!

What kind of judgment was this? What kind of sword art?

Wei Yu gritted his teeth, twisting his body once more, his sword light continuously slashing three times, forcing the flying sword back.

One step landed him on the courtyard wall, then he fell from the sky, graceful as a startled swan. This single sword, brilliant and magnificent…

This sword, having flown from the outer reaches, was again forcibly turned back!

In the eyes of the gatekeeper of Yi An Bo Fu, and the increasingly gathered pedestrians before the Bo Fu gates, what was seen was Wei Yu, the proclaimed foremost Teng Long of Great Qin, displaying a multitude of offensive sword arts that could be called peerless in their exquisiteness. He attacked continuously, advancing relentlessly.

But… he was continuously forced to retreat.

From beginning to end, he was utterly unable to approach within five paces of his opponent!

That man, standing like a reef against the wall, unmoving, merely lifting a finger to control his sword, appeared terrifying in this moment.

“It seems… this is the way.”

The man who had been advancing murmured in a voice no one could hear.

He had always held up only his index finger. At this moment, his middle finger also rose, the two fingers parallel, his thumb, ring finger, and little finger all held close. His right hand, adopting a posture as if thrusting a sword, sent it forward, instantly straightening it.

His side-by-side sword fingers pointed directly at Wei Yu!

Suddenly, a sharp whistle rang out.

Because of the close distance, Wei Yu found it difficult to distinguish whether he first heard the sharp whistle or first saw that point of cold light. In any case, as he exhausted his full effort, still determined to bravely charge forward to kill…

*Clang clang clang!*

Three continuous sounds echoed.

For the first time, he approached within five paces of his opponent. However, in his hand, only the sword hilt remained.

He held the bare sword hilt, only four paces from his opponent. But he was abruptly halted there. These four paces, he would never be able to cross.

Because Wei Yu’s posture was too resolute, his forward momentum too fierce. So his appearance, holding the sword hilt and abruptly stopping, seemed extra comical and ironic.

But no one laughed.

Including his opponent, the man named Forward, there was not a hint of mockery.

*Clang!*

Perhaps the entire street was too quiet. The sound of the three sections of the sword body falling to the ground was incredibly crisp.

People seemed to awaken at this moment. Wei Yu’s famed sword, just as he charged forward, had been directly severed, cracking into four sections.

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And Wei Yu, too, seemed to awaken from a dream.

He gripped the sword hilt, looking at Forward. He could no longer see that flying sword in his eyes, but he asked, “What is the name of this sword?”

The sharpness in Forward’s eyes had disappeared. He seemed to have become that disheveled, down-and-out fellow again, staring with dull, lifeless eyes, listlessly facing the world.

Only…

Only when speaking these four words did his chin slightly lift, with a hint of unspoken pride.

“Dragon Light Shoots Dipper,” he said.

Wei Yu reversed the sword hilt, gripping it in his palm, and bowed towards Forward in respect: “My skill is inferior, I willingly concede. Henceforth, I dare not claim invincibility.”

No reason, no excuse, winning and losing had always been such a simple matter. For Wei Yu, today he lost the halo of the world’s foremost Teng Long, his reputation “seized,” and his carried sword broken. The bitter fruit of this failure could not be said to be painless.

But as the victor of this battle, Forward showed no awareness of his impending widespread fame. His dejected, as if he had lost, lifeless face showed no sign of excitement.

He merely said, “I shall take my leave.”

Then, turning his back, he walked alone into the distance, passing through the gazes of those along the way.

Wei Yu’s words held not a ripple of meaning in his heart. Perhaps for Wei Yu himself, “dare not claim invincibility” was a recognition of immense significance. But for him… Wei Yu originally should not have claimed invincibility.

That person was no longer here; who could claim invincibility?

As for the so-called “fame” of defeating the foremost Teng Long of Qin, it was even less significant. He could have come quietly, and left quietly. Just as he had done most of the time on this road. As long as there was winning and losing, he did not seek the name that came with it. It was Wei Yu’s own pride that did not allow him a path of retreat.

And for Forward, from beginning to end, just as he himself had said, this trip was not about injuring another’s face, not about seizing another’s reputation…

He only sought the sword.

He only sought this sword.