Qin Mu was flung against wall after wall, and landscape paintings appeared one by one on the surfaces of the Village of the Broken Elders — only Grandma Si's house remained untouched.
Qin Mu charged forward again, only to discover that his qi had been completely depleted. He slumped in defeat.
He had lost.
The Overlord had been defeated — utterly and completely. Not only was his swordsmanship no match for the Village Chief's, but even his qi was less abundant. It seemed he would have to accept the title of Human Emperor after all.
The Village Chief's expression was mild as he said, "You can try again after you've recovered your qi."
Qin Mu steadied himself. "Alright!"
But the Village Chief's face darkened as he watched the cowherd boy dash off at full speed to practice his peculiar Overlord's Three Pillar Art and restore his cultivation.
"You cheated," the Herbalist remarked, gazing after Qin Mu's retreating figure.
The Village Chief looked taken aback. "How so?"
The Herbalist sneered. "Your sword technique is extremely qi-consuming. With the depth of your cultivation, at the Five Stars realm you could execute it twice — three times at most. How many times did you just use it? Seven?"
The Village Chief's composure cracked. He stammered, "My qi reserves are beyond your imagination. I can execute it four times by controlling the amount of qi I spend each time... But Mu'er's qi is truly formidable. I had thought that once we both reached the Five Stars realm the gap between us would narrow. I was wrong..."
The Herbalist chuckled. "It turns out he's a great vat while you're merely a bucket."
The Village Chief sighed and shook his head. "At the Spirit Womb realm, his qi could be double mine, but at the Five Stars realm it shouldn't be that much more. I have no shortcomings at the Five Stars realm, and neither does he. You've noticed — just don't tell anyone."
The Herbalist smiled. "With the same sword technique, he couldn't match you, and he already lost. Why would I need to mention it? However — you said the Human Emperor bears only duty and burden, with no benefits. That doesn't seem quite right, does it?"
The Village Chief lounged lazily. "What benefits could there be? How would I know?"
The Herbalist's eyes glinted. "I've heard legends about the Human Emperor and the Human Emperor's Seal. The Seal seems to be tied to many ancient legacies, some stretching back tens of thousands — even hundreds of thousands — of years. Certain sacred grounds were founded by the Human Emperor. It's said the Seal commands more authority than an emperor's jade scepter."
The Village Chief spoke flatly. "Those are legends from untold ages past. Now the Human Emperor's Seal is just a lump of black iron. Who would obey the orders of a black iron lump?"
The Herbalist smiled faintly. "There are legends that once the Human Emperor's Seal is revealed, it can command the heroes of the world."
The Village Chief yawned, his tone languid. "The Seal is with Mu'er right now. Have him wave it around and see which sect obeys his summons? He'd be lucky to escape with his life."
The Herbalist scowled. "If you knew it was so dangerous, why did you give it to him?"
The Village Chief was no longer languid. Sword light flickered in his eyes, and his tone turned solemn. "This is a duty and a burden. The mantle was passed to my shoulders, and I could not bear it — so my hands and feet were severed. But someone must carry this burden. I cannot simply set it down and let it be buried with me in my grave!"
"There are things that must be done, even when one knows the danger!"
The Village Chief let out a turbid breath. "If you do it, you might fail, you might die — but there is still a sliver of hope. If you don't do it, there is not even the faintest hope. The things the line of Human Emperors has accomplished are far more than you can imagine. Mu'er is quite admirable."
The Herbalist felt a pang of sorrow. "I'm only worried about Mu'er, having been pulled onto your old path. How can Mu'er surpass you?"
"He cannot surpass me."
A trace of pride entered the Village Chief's voice. "Using Sword Treading Through Mountains and Rivers, he will never defeat me. Although this technique is composed of fourteen basic sword forms, I have polished it until it has no flaws whatsoever. If he wishes to integrate the Grand Preceptor's three basic sword forms into my technique, he must modify Sword Treading Through Mountains and Rivers. His idea is clever, but his vision is not as high as mine — the moment he makes changes, flaws will appear. The more he changes, the more flaws there will be."
The Herbalist was struck speechless. He let out a breath, watching Qin Mu striding quickly in the distance, his heart full of sympathy.
"However, he can use me as a whetstone to hone his swordsmanship."
The Village Chief smiled. "With this one technique — Sword Treading Through Mountains and Rivers — the more he modifies, the deeper his understanding of the sword becomes. The deeper that understanding, the more he can transcend swordplay and approach the Dao. When one's understanding of the sword reaches the level of the Dao, it no longer matters whether there are fourteen basic sword forms or seventeen."
"Learning swordplay and applying it is merely the realm of technique — technique is learning in order to use. To advance to the realm of law requires creation. The State Preceptor of Yankang is in this stage: to create is to reach the realm of law. And to go further still — to set aside both law and technique — that is the realm of the Dao."
The Village Chief continued, "Mu'er currently stands between technique and law. He hones his swordsmanship through me, which improves him more than if I simply taught him."
After a long while, Qin Mu restored his cultivation to its peak. Yet instead of seeking out the Village Chief immediately, he sat in silent meditation, his mind focused on perfecting his Sword Treading Through Mountains and Rivers until it was flawless.
How to integrate the Grand Preceptor's three basic sword forms into Sword Treading Through Mountains and Rivers without leaving any flaws — that was what he wanted to achieve.
Fighting the Village Chief with the Village Chief's own technique was obviously a losing proposition. But with improvements and modifications, there might still be hope of victory.
He concentrated deeply. In his mind, every sword move was shattered, then reassembled, then tested in simulated combat against an imaginary Village Chief.
Yet every simulated battle ended in defeat.
He imagined scenario after scenario, but no matter how he refined his approach, he could not change the outcome of defeat.
After an unknowable stretch of time, Qin Mu's spirit soared. He rose to his feet. In the storm of ideas, he had defeated the Village Chief with his new technique. Excited, he called out, "Village Chief, one more round!"
The Village Chief smiled warmly. "Very well."
Qin Mu hurtled forward, unleashing his improved swordsmanship. Then Qin Mu went flying high into the air, a trail of blood blossoms scattering behind him, and crashed into the chicken coop.
More than a dozen chicken-dragons clucked and squawked, charging at him with fierce intent. Qin Mu scrambled into the air, but the chicken-dragons spread their wings and took flight as well, their feathers sharp as swords, breathing jets of fire at him.
In midair, mountains and rivers burst into existence — a vast range and a sweeping river that engulfed all the chicken-dragons. After a single exchange, more than a dozen bare, plucked chicken-dragons plummeted from the sky, feathers swirling and drifting everywhere.
Qin Mu landed and stared blankly.
The chicken-dragons clucked and scurried back into the coop, shutting the wooden door behind them and refusing to show their heads.
"Cackle cackle daa!" the old hen shrieked in alarm.
Qin Mu waved his hand. Several sword qi scars appeared on the coop's wooden door.
Chaos erupted inside the coop.
Qin Mu stood stunned, staring at his own hand. When had he become this strong?
"Now that's impressive, Mu'er — you can finally beat the chickens!" the Cripple praised.
Qin Mu flushed slightly and resumed his meditation. Suddenly, the Mute tossed him a sword pearl, gesturing: "Aba! Aaa!"
Qin Mu thanked the Mute — the message was that he had just forged a sword pearl and wanted Qin Mu to try it.
He gripped the sword pearl and surged his qi into it. Instantly, countless sword lights burst forth from within — the radiance of the sword, seemingly without substance, twisting freely, as fluid and nimble as his own qi!
Qin Mu clenched the sword pearl and threw a punch. The sword light inside the pearl instantly transformed into a colossal...