Chapter 173: Gathering of Heroes

Yunyan Pavilion was where the envoys from the Western Hu temporarily resided.

Meng Qi and Ruan Yushu were hiding on a large tree beside the pavilion, observing the situation inside.

Since it was already late at night, most people had long gone to sleep, making Yunyan Pavilion especially quiet, with only a few servants silently performing chores.

Under such circumstances, Meng Qi naturally saw no issues, so he planned to sneak inside and directly “interrogate” the envoys using the Illusionary Transformation Method. After all, if any trouble arose and the peace talks could no longer continue, he wouldn’t mind at all—if the negotiations succeeded, what need would there be for Lu Guan? This would force him into a desperate situation where he’d have no choice but to confront the Evil Monarch to earn back the lost merit points.

“That way,” suddenly Ruan Yushu whispered into Meng Qi’s ear, having been listening intently.

She pointed toward a small alley northwest of Yunyan Pavilion.

Meng Qi focused his spirit and fully activated his hearing ability, finally catching the faint sound of clashing weapons.

She definitely has superior hearing compared to me… Meng Qi thought instinctively. The Ruan family’s cultivation technique involved sound and rhythm, undoubtedly including methods to refine the auditory senses and enhance hearing. Even though both had opened their ear channels, Ruan Yushu could perceive sounds more acutely, clearly, and from further distances than Meng Qi.

Without saying much, Meng Qi activated his lightness technique, resembling a great bird soaring silently in the night, heading toward the alley.

Given the vastness of the capital city, nighttime brawls or gang fights were normal; what was abnormal was their occurrence near Yunyan Pavilion.

Both of them had excellent lightness techniques, approaching the alley silently and undetected.

“Stop,” Meng Qi extended his hand, signaling Ruan Yushu to halt, as a figure suddenly lunged from the shadows ahead. The attacker moved like a fierce wolf, exuding a formidable aura, clearly no ordinary opponent.

Meng Qi drew out “Evil Calamity.” Recalling a bit from his previous battle with the Evil Monarch, his forehead throbbed as his spirit expanded outward, merging with the blade while simultaneously sensing the surrounding environment. Then he slashed.

After this slash, Meng Qi vaguely felt that “Evil Calamity” had become an extension of his body and senses. The true energy covering the opponent’s saber faintly manifested itself, though this perception was vague and incomplete. After all, he had only just discovered the direction and still lacked practical application techniques.

Nevertheless, based purely on the sensed energy fluctuations and bodily reactions, Meng Qi’s slash was executed with ease and precision!

The attacker felt immense panic; before the slash was unleashed, the opponent seemed ordinary enough, but once the blade struck, it was as if the surrounding environment had merged into one with the attacker. The saber’s sweep encompassed the entire area, concealing infinite variations within its unchanging trajectory. No matter how he altered his movements and techniques, he couldn’t escape the blade’s reach—it was terrifying!

He kept retreating until his back hit the wall. Hastily, he raised his saber horizontally, but “Evil Calamity” had already reached his head. With a powerful strike from the flat of the blade, the attacker was knocked unconscious.

Meng Qi stabbed with his Ice Gate Sword, directly hitting the opponent’s throat, leaving no survivors. The weapon clashes in the alley had ceased, replaced by faint footsteps of someone fleeing. He needed to catch up quickly to investigate further, leaving no time for interrogation. Moreover, if he left the enemy alive, it might expose his presence and alert others.

He switched to a long sword for the kill because he didn’t want others to know that his greatest strength lay in saber techniques—though the Evil Monarch already knew, keeping it hidden from other enemies would still offer an element of surprise.

Of course, this inconvenience reminded Meng Qi that he currently struggled with sword techniques. After receiving guidance from the Sword Emperor, he had gained significant insights, and his swordplay was in the process of reconstruction, teetering on the brink of a breakthrough. Using the sword felt awkward, requiring calm focus to integrate and refine the new techniques. Once he advanced further, this awkwardness would disappear.

Throughout his journey, Meng Qi’s swordsmanship had been largely self-taught, with only the foundational training from Jiang Zhimei at the outset and the essence contained within the Yama Scroll to guide him. This self-directed learning inevitably led to certain misunderstandings. For example, the true essence of the Solitary Sword lay in simplification and the fundamental principles of swordsmanship embedded within its stance-breaking techniques.

These principles were primarily intended to elevate his swordsmanship, with move-breaking serving as a secondary benefit. However, influenced by habit and conventional interpretations of the “Solitary Sword,” he had somewhat reversed their priorities. According to the evaluation by the Master of the Six Paths of Reincarnation, the Solitary Sword was deemed to nearly transcend the mortal realm precisely because of its profound sword principles—not for any other reason!

If he hadn’t received guidance from the Sword Emperor, his sword techniques might have stagnated at this level for a long time. Moreover, some principles were universally applicable, benefiting his cultivation of the “Celestial Saber” technique.

It was only at this moment that Meng Qi truly understood why disciples from major sects often surpassed independent cultivators—resources were one aspect, but guidance from a master was even more crucial.

He tossed the corpse into the nearby shadows and circulated his true energy along the Wind God Leg pathway, swiftly catching up with the fleeing target like a breeze passing through.

Meng Qi and Ruan Yushu landed in the shadows atop a wall, observing two figures hiding behind a tree ahead without rushing to act, silently listening to their conversation.

“Junior Jing, you go first. With the Net of Heaven laid by Lie Dao, there’s no escape for me,” a feeble voice whispered, “Spread the word that the peace talks are a sham, and I can die in peace.”

“I can’t bring myself to abandon my brothers! Besides, I still need your help to contact your tribe’s rebellious remnants,” the straightforward voice resolutely replied, “How strong is Lie Dao exactly?”

“He roamed the northwestern grasslands, once hailed as your Central Plains’ Evil Monarch or Ghost King’s peer. However, after recklessly challenging the Living Buddha, he suffered a crushing defeat and fled, reportedly leaving an indelible mental flaw,” the weak voice quickly explained.

Junior Jing hesitated briefly: “Regardless, if we meet him, we’ll fight him to the end!”

He picked up the weakened person and leaped over the courtyard wall, rushing toward the riverside, intending to escape using the river.

Just then, a cold snort echoed far into his ears, shocking him like a thunderclap, causing his entire body to stiffen.

He turned his head and saw a tall figure slowly approaching, wielding a horse saber, exuding overwhelming might, like a demon god.

Near the riverside and around him, several other figures drew closer, cutting off all escape routes.

“Damn! Fight him to the end!” Junior Jing swore loudly but didn’t rush into battle immediately. Instead, he observed the surrounding enemies, planning to feign an attack in one direction to escape in another.

“I’ve killed at least eighty, maybe a hundred guys like you,” Lie Dao said in a calm, emotionless tone.

As Junior Jing and the person on his back were about to speak, a sudden “Amitabha” echoed, accompanied by the crisp sound of a wooden mallet striking a block, piercing their minds.

Everyone turned around warily and saw a small boat drifting downstream, with a white-robed monk standing on it. His shoes and socks were spotless, exuding an aura of purity, as if he had transcended the mundane world, giving the impression that this very place was a sanctuary of Buddhist serenity.

“Ruyi Monk…” Lie Dao’s voice turned grave.

With a warm smile, Ruyi Monk said, “Esteemed patrons, would you care to leave with this humble monk?”

Junior Jing and the person behind him fell silent, uncertain whether to trust Ruyi Monk.

“Come with me instead,” another voice came from a different direction, as a green-robed figure approached with hands behind his back, exuding a sinister aura, as if freshly emerged from the Netherworld.

“Ghost King Patron, hope you’re well,” Ruyi Monk clasped his palms together, unfazed and unstartled.

The situation suddenly changed, with three forces standing in a triangular balance, each movement affecting the entire scenario.

Suddenly, Junior Jing moved. He neither ran toward Ruyi Monk nor sought refuge with the Ghost King. Seemingly advancing forward, he abruptly turned around, stepping onto a stone bridge, rushing toward the opposite shore.

In such a moment, all sides appeared suspicious!

Just as he stepped onto the stone bridge, he suddenly froze, for there was someone already standing on it!

This person exuded a cold and serene aura, dressed in snow-white robes. His left hand gripped a sword, and he stood with his hands behind his back, quietly gazing at the moon’s reflection in the flowing water beneath the bridge, as if he and the bridge, moon, and river formed an inseparable whole, seamlessly integrated, rejecting any external interference!

Another great expert… Junior Jing slowed his pace.

Then he saw the figure slowly turn around, revealing a cold yet handsome face, slowly drawing the long sword. Each movement seemed meticulously refined, perfectly balanced and unchanging, containing indescribable charm and profound principles.

The sword left its sheath, and Meng Qi coldly stared at the Ghost King, Ruyi Monk, and others:

“Who will face my sword?”

The Ghost King’s pupils contracted as he muttered, “The Sword of Divine Perception—Little Meng!”

“Divine Perception Sword?” Junior Jing was first shocked, then delighted.