Chapter 113: The Supreme One (Part 1)

Leichen’s sword stroke cleaved through the air within a hundred meters, thunder faintly resonating—majestic, vigorous, and upright—exterminating all evil.

This was his most prized technique. When he first comprehended it, a single strike had once forced back an elder of his sect; later, after refinement, it wounded an elder with but one blow.

Bang!

Jiang Fan, sword in hand, struck through the air, shattering the sword intent embedded within Leichen’s thunder god strike completely. The sword gleamed as its tip halted just before his opponent’s throat.

“Excellent swordsmanship!” Leichen showed no fear, only admiration. “Within it, I sense intense death, slaughter, destruction, decay, sharpness, swiftness, vitality... faintly, there is also light distortion and spatial tremors?”

“Good eye!” Jiang Fan sheathed his sword, stepping lightly upon the waves as he continued forward. “Until we meet again!”

“May I travel with you?” Leichen called out, catching up.

“You understand, this journey of mine is fraught with uncertain life and death,” Jiang Fan halted.

“A true man fears no treachery,” Leichen replied without hesitation. “Besides, with your strength, I can only be a spectator, a witness!”

“Then let us go together.” Jiang Fan nodded.

Side by side, they pressed onward.

The waves surged endlessly through millennia.

“You, the sect master of Hunyuan Sect, master of thunder techniques—how come you wield the sword so well?” Jiang Fan inquired.

“I like the sword,” Leichen said simply.

A preference that no wealth could buy—indeed the strongest excuse.

“I’ve heard Hunyuan Sect is a legacy from the Immortal Realm. Is that true?”

“That is true. Our founding patriarch was an ancient Golden Immortal named Chi Jingzi. The sect’s records state that the patriarch descended in an incarnation and established Hunyuan Sect.”

“Ancient Golden Immortal Chi Jingzi? An incarnation’s descent?” Jiang Fan’s heart raced wildly.

Among the twelve Golden Immortals, one was indeed Chi Jingzi.

Leichen nodded. “As for the rest, I do not know.”

Ahead rose two towering peaks, with a red river flowing between them.

On one peak, a thousand zhang high, sat a young man cross-legged at the summit.

Suddenly, the long sword resting across his knees quivered and emitted a sharp hum.

He opened his eyes, shooting two beams of sword light, and a sword intent burst from above his head—refined and pure, yet imbued with a merciless essence toward all things.

Rising, he tidied his white robes with solemn reverence, then stepped onto the river’s surface.

Jiang Fan stopped, gazing at the cold-faced youth with a chiseled visage, and said softly, “Supreme Sword Sect?”

“Gongsun Wujian,” the youth nodded, introducing himself. “I come to inherit the Wusheng Sword Sect.”

“You are no match for me,” Jiang Fan shook his head.

Leichen beside him wore a grave expression.

He knew well that Gongsun Wujian was the undisputed number one on the Mortal Ranking. A year ago, a single sword stroke severed a primordial spirit.

Yet the youth didn’t glance at him once.

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