Chapter 121: The Dragon’s Virtue Questions the Sword

The tailors at Huaqing Shop, their needles dancing like silver snakes, worked with lightning speed to craft ink-wash dragon and phoenix robes. Acting on the decree brought by Li Qingqiu, they prepared the brocade attire for Su Ye and Luo Jinghong’s audience with the Emperor.

Su Ye was dressed in a black robe adorned with gold-threaded cloud patterns on the shoulders and cinched with a golden belt, his hair bound by a Taiji lotus crown. Luo Jinghong wore an elegant white robe with a jade belt, her hair styled in a round bun secured by a lotus hairpin. With the Divine Phoenix and Martial Phoenix jade pendants hanging from their respective waists, the two appeared as graceful and refined as a pair of immortals.

Summoned by the Emperor, they proceeded along Vermilion Bird Avenue into the Imperial City, where the Imperial Guards lined the path to welcome them. Overwhelmed by the grandeur, Luo Jinghong clung to Su Ye’s arm, moving forward in a daze.

As they neared the Longde Hall, Feng Yu’an, dressed in official court attire, appeared quietly.

"Master Su, by the decree of the Empress, I am to escort Luo Jinghong to the Wufeng Hall," Feng Yu’an said in a soft, gentle tone.

Luo Jinghong looked at Su Ye for help.

"This is General Feng, the Grand General of the Jinwu Guard and the supreme commander of the Great Qian Demon Suppression Division," Su Ye introduced softly.

Upon hearing Feng Yu’an’s title, the confusion and fear in Luo Jinghong’s eyes dissipated significantly. She asked timidly, "Should I go with the General?"

Su Ye nodded gently. A palace maid behind Feng Yu’an took Luo Jinghong’s hand and guided her toward the Wufeng Hall, where Empress Hu resided.

As soon as she was out of sight, Feng Yu’an turned back and whispered, "His Majesty has been waiting for you in the Longde Hall... for a very long time."

Su Ye exhaled deeply and took a firm step forward. Before his foot had even fully landed, he found himself inside the spacious and majestic Wude Hall.

The Emperor, Xiao Qian, sat upon the dragon throne atop the high dais, dressed in a black dragon robe and wearing a crown of eighteen pearls. Gone was the lethargic ease of a Sky Realm cultivator; he radiated the absolute authority of an Emperor.

"Minister Su, you have kept me waiting quite a while."

Su Ye stood tall, cupping his hands in salute. "This humble subject, Su Ye, pays his respects to Your Majesty."

Xiao Qian waved a hand, his crown swaying. "The world knows you are a master of the sword. With the Cangshen Realm in sight, I wish to test your attainments right here in this hall."

Golden spiritual energy, as thin as hair, coalesced beside him into a duplicate. The clone looked exactly like the Emperor on the throne, dressed in tight-sleeved casual attire with loose trousers, its dragon-like eyes flashing like lightning. With a flick of its right hand, spiritual energy condensed into a seven-foot-long straight blade. The clone pulsed with energy, also at the half-step Cangshen level.

"Draw your sword," the clone said. Its voice was clear and resonant, sounding more like a wandering cultivator than the Emperor seated on the throne.

With a flash of gold light, the black-and-white Taichu Sword appeared in Su Ye’s grip. Xiao Qian walked slowly down the steps, stopping a few meters from Su Ye, the two men locking gazes.

"You are a genius of the sword," Xiao Qian said, his face wearing the proud defiance of a youth. "But I have fought against Song Yang and Ouyang Zhi. The debate between blade and sword—which is stronger—remains unsettled."

Su Ye remained silent. He felt Xiao Qian’s ferocity—a hallmark of the Tyrant Blade school. Having cultivated for hundreds of years, even a blade cultivator who had stepped into the Sky Realm was no ordinary opponent.

Xiao Qian’s robes billowed and his long hair whipped about as black mist spread from the hilt of his blade, coiling around his muscular right arm. The mist transformed into scales; his hand became a golden dragon’s claw. Su Ye’s eyes narrowed, his spirit merging with his sword as he steadied his breath.

Xiao Qian’s right eye turned blood-red, and as he moved, his long hair left a trail of afterimages. "If you cannot best me, you shall become a soul beneath my blade!" The violence in his tone threatened to shatter his opponent’s consciousness.

Su Ye did not employ the Yin-Yang Mirror. In the silence, the tip of his sword flicked upward with lightning speed, like a spirit sparrow soaring into the sky, deflecting Xiao Qian’s fierce and overbearing strike.

Compared to the blade cultivator in the Demon God statue, Xiao Qian’s narrow straight blade was far more agile, his moves as rapid as a storm. The immense physical strength granted by his dragon-scaled hand was enough to cleave through rock.

The blade was fast, but the sword was faster. Beyond the Thirty-Six Heavenly Spirits and Seventy-Two Earthly Fiends, Su Ye’s Taiji techniques—evolved from those foundations—parried the strikes with a rhythm that appeared slow but was, in reality, swift. The sparks flying from the clashing weapons were absorbed by the black mist on the dragon-scaled hand, further enhancing its physical power.

When Xiao Qian failed to break through after several exchanges, he roared, and magma-like veins erupted on his dragon-scaled hand. His restless power surged instantly. A torrential blade intent welled up, condensing into a stark white aura that lit up the silent hall like fireworks.

Su Ye’s clear eyes became sharp as blades. Sword intent gathered, manifesting as several lotus flowers. The clash of blade and sword energy swept through the hall.

Seated on the throne, the Emperor watched the duel with hands clasped, silent. It had been many years since he had seen his younger self. The reputation of the "World’s Number One Blade," stripped of the Emperor’s mantle, unfolded before him in the Longde Hall. The martial dreams of his youth were all hidden beneath the dragon robe.

"Is that all you can do—just defend?" Xiao Qian’s roar echoed in the hall. In his heart, he felt the exhilaration of resonating with his true self. Only by battling a master with all his might could he forget the schemes of the throne, the cycles of time, and all the weariness of the mortal world.

"It is not only you who can grow through battle," Su Ye replied calmly.

The one hundred and eight moves of the Jinghong Sword Art had long since sprouted new branches during Su Ye’s journey of purging evil. Under the pressure of a supreme blade master, the fleeting, dreamlike thoughts in his sea of consciousness bloomed like lotus flowers, bearing countless fruits.

No move.
Yet better than any move.

Xiao Qian’s offensive grew even more savage, the magma-veined dragon hand shedding sparks with potent corrosive force. His blade moves were like falling stars chasing the moon, crushing down upon Su Ye, who stood as proud and unyielding as a mountain pine.

As the Divine Dragon blade was about to strike, a surge of ecstasy flooded Xiao Qian’s heart. He raised his blade to sever his opponent’s head. The blade swept across the neck; the head flew into the air. Both the Sword Saint and the Sword Demon were masters of the sword. The title of "Sword Immortal" was nothing but an empty reputation.

"Your Majesty, you were too careless in your youth," a voice whispered, tinged with irony.

A rainbow of sword energy pierced through the momentarily unguarded Xiao Qian. The black-and-white sword, wreathed in sharp intent, descended from above, instantly cleaving Xiao Qian in two. Blood splattered, and the body fell to the ground. The spiritual pressure dissipated, leaving behind only the haunting, shocking scene.

"Su Ye, do you know that this act of regicide is a crime punishable by the execution of your nine generations?" the Emperor’s voice echoed ethereally through the Longde Hall.

Su Ye stood straight, his sword held behind his back. "This humble subject dares to bear the title of Savior... Only those without true ability commit the crime of deceiving the sovereign. Only one who dares to slay the supreme can dare to slaughter all enemies who come to invade!"

The Emperor’s eyes flashed with brilliance. He burst into hearty laughter that lasted for a long while before he spoke with heroic spirit: "Truly, you are a sword cultivator capable of surpassing the remnant soul of Ouyang Zhi in a duel of sword arts. Your mastery of the sword is unparalleled in history."

Su Ye cupped his hands. "Thank you for the praise, Your Majesty."

Xiao Qian stood up, hands behind his back, and walked slowly down the stone steps. His vast, surging energy was something Su Ye could never hope to withstand.

"Once upon a time, I also wished to master the blade, to use supreme supernatural powers to bear the destiny that was bound to come," Xiao Qian said, his eyes containing both the world and the past. "But there were more important things I had to shoulder. Sect Master Su, you have walked the path I once wanted to take, but could not."

"This humble subject will never fail the trust placed in me. With the sword in my hand, I shall uphold the Heavenly Dao and protect all living beings!"

"Good!" Xiao Qian walked to the spot where his clone had stood. "I was not wrong about you. Remember this: you may slay a monarch, and you may also slay gods and buddhas."

Su Ye’s gaze was resolute, his tone calm: "Anyone who treats the common people as mere fodder is my enemy. I shall slay them with a single sword."