"Brother Li is so cool."
Princess Little Jiang's eyes sparkled behind her sunglasses. Noticing the occasional glances from the nobles beneath the bright yellow canopy nearby, she quickly wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth.
"Such a child."
Ying Bing muttered inwardly, though her gaze softened like the glow of the moon.
It seemed he had truly been waiting for this day for a long time—otherwise, why would he have rehearsed his words so thoroughly in his mind?
"Sometimes I wish I could forget that Brother Li is actually a master of the hammer."
Bai Jinghong tilted his head slightly, gazing at the stars at a forty-five-degree angle, yet the image of the "Hammer Tyrant" shattering the heavens with a single strike refused to fade.
The memories he thought were dead were attacking him again.
"Just learn from him..."
He turned to say this to Wu Chushu, only to find the latter clutching his head, writhing like a worm, his brain trembling."‘Flowers intoxicate three thousand guests, a single sword chills fourteen provinces’... How can someone who writes poetry so beautifully only know how to wield a hammer? What a waste, what a waste..."
"Why did everyone laugh when I recited my master’s poem?"
Oh, right—Wu Chushu’s master was Elder Cao, another blacksmith.
On the judges' platform, Xie Yiding couldn’t help but chuckle. "This kid sure knows how to put on a show."
"Tsk, no wonder he insisted on using a sword—it was all for this moment."
Du Wufeng smiled faintly.
Seeing Li Mo, he saw a reflection of his younger self. Who hadn’t been brash and eager to show off in their youth?
On the stage.
Xie Xuan, observing the obedient divine sword, couldn’t help but ask curiously:
"How much of the divine sword’s power can you unleash?"
"Guess."
The young swordsman Li Mo flashed a mysterious smile.
Xie Xuan: "..."
Fine. This was a duel, after all—it made sense he wouldn’t reveal his limits.
That meant Xie Xuan would have to test them himself.
The old swordsman cautiously refrained from striking first.
Li Mo cut an impressive figure—his white robes fluttering, the divine sword in hand, every movement radiating unshakable confidence. Moreover, he had trained seriously with the Frost Fairy for days. Perhaps...
Taking a deep breath, Xie Xuan closed his eyes.
The ancestral sword in his hand dipped slightly, releasing faint traces of sword intent that enveloped the arena.
Clang—
Though Xie Xuan’s sword hadn’t moved, Li Mo felt as if a blade hung over his head, his brow itching from an invisible pressure.
Had he already struck?
This was a sword without form!
Invisible to the naked eye, yet Li Mo could sense it clearly with his spiritual perception—pure sword light, like the reflection of birds on a shimmering lake, weaving into an inescapable net.
The Art of Heart-Swords?
Li Mo immediately recognized the technique.
The body moves after the intent; control lies entirely within the mind.
Xie Xuan’s strike was aimed not at his body, but at his soul—forged into a blade of pure will.
"Why aren’t they moving?"
"Hasn’t it already started? Why are they just standing there?"
The crowd of onlookers, commoners and martial artists alike, exchanged confused glances.
On the judges' platform.
"What’s happening? Why aren’t they fighting?"
The purple-robed eunuch turned to the two representatives from the Heavenly Mountain Sword Manor.
"Their battle has already begun," Xie Yiding explained.
"This is a clash of spirits—the Art of Heart-Swords, a branch of the Pure Edge Sword Path. It pulls the opponent into a mental realm."
"If one’s soul is weaker, they’ll suffer spiritual damage—or worse, their soul shatters, leading to instant defeat."
Du Wufeng nodded in agreement. "A brilliant move. Xie Xuan’s cultivation is higher, and his sword intent has been tempered by the ancestral blade—his soul is as sharp as a blade."
"As for Li Mo’s soul... I can’t say yet. This battle can only be perceived with the heart."
The purple-robed man nodded. "I see. If he loses the mental battle, he’ll be at a severe disadvantage in the real fight."
He paused, glancing at the restless crowd below, then added:
"Your explanations are too profound. Could you... say something simpler?"
Xie Yiding blinked. "What else is there to say?"
"Just... improvise. You’ve witnessed countless duels—surely you have some material..."
In other words: Make something up. No one can see it anyway.
"..."
Xie Yiding was at a loss.
"Try this." Du Wufeng handed the eunuch a booklet.
"What’s this?"
"A picture book."
"?"
When confused, people will accept anything handed to them.
So the eunuch, lips twitching, opened it and began reading aloud.
His voice, amplified by a conch shell, echoed throughout the inner city.
"Li Mo—ahem—swung his sword and declared that today’s duel was his to win. Should he triumph, he demanded that Xie Xuan honor his promise. With that, he launched a fierce assault!"
"Xie Xuan smiled faintly, his sleeves billowing like a blizzard—what the hell is this—and unleashed the Snow Moon Sword Art, his sword shadows enveloping the entire arena!"
"..."
The audience in the inner city and below the stage grew even more bewildered.
They couldn’t see the spiritual battle, but something felt off.
"?"
Princess Little Jiang’s freshly wiped drool dripped again.
Ying Bing’s grip on her doll tightened. She could tell—Li Mo, restricted to swordsmanship, was at a disadvantage against Xie Xuan.
"Unless he’s also mastered the Heart-Sword..."
"?"
Even Li Mo himself was baffled, but he had more pressing concerns—breaking Xie Xuan’s mental assault.
The net of sword shadows was upon him. His only recourse was to summon his soul avatar.
A golden-armored figure materialized behind him, eyes blazing with intensity.
Clink—
The Heart-Sword struck Li Mo’s soul, sending ripples across its surface.
"One strike wasn’t enough to break it?"
Xie Xuan was stunned. Despite his lower cultivation, Li Mo’s soul was far sturdier than expected.
Undeterred, he intensified his assault, channeling the ancestral sword’s power into his spiritual strikes.
Li Mo’s soul trembled under the barrage.
But this was only the beginning—Xie Xuan’s attacks grew faster, fiercer.
The Battle Will of the Heaven-Defying Ape burned like wildfire, but even the strongest soul couldn’t endure indefinitely.
If this continued, defeat was inevitable.
"What did the ice block teach me...?"
Li Mo forced himself to focus, recalling Ying Bing’s lessons while studying Xie Xuan’s technique.
The Heart-Sword was pure sword intent—but what about his sword intent?
The young swordsman fell into deep thought.
Right—the Heavenly Sword.
Though the sword intent within it wasn’t his own, he had mastered it. Guiding its power outward shouldn’t be too hard...
...
Hmm.
The audience, too, fell into contemplation.
In the silent inner city, the eunuch’s voice rang out with exaggerated fervor.
"Li Mo suddenly roared, merging three sword strikes into one! This single slash contained his lifelong cultivation—a desperate gambit to pierce through his opponent’s defenses. The sword light blazed like a rainbow!"
"Xie Xuan finally showed a flicker of interest. With a hint of seriousness, he shifted his stance, transforming his palm into a finger and lightly tapped the tip of the sword. The tremendous recoil sent Li Mo flying backward, blood spraying from his mouth!"
"Xie Xuan panicked, quickly closing the distance in three swift steps to help Li Mo up and check his injuries."
"To his surprise, Li Mo—who had just been coughing up blood—suddenly opened his eyes, grabbed Xie Xuan’s hand, and smirked. 'Master, I caught you! You lose!'"
"Xie Xuan’s face flushed red, making him look even more..."
The purple-robed eunuch grew increasingly engrossed as he read aloud.
"What kind of nonsense is this?!"
Xie Yiding snatched the illustrated book with a dark expression. After glimpsing the cover, veins bulged on his forehead:
"'The Overbearing Empress Falls for Me'?!?"
"......?"
Ying Bing lowered her eyes, pressing her lips together.