Chapter 397 – The Metal Blade Shocks the Storm (II) (2/2)

‘When Zhou Dufu was three years old, could he possibly have had the ability to defeat the world and be without adversary? When the Tianhai Empress first entered the palace, just who could she beat? If you were as old as Wang Po right now, could you beat him?’ These were the words Su Li said to Zhu Luo. This reasoning seemed somewhat fallacious, but it was actually very reasonable. It was just that this argument had to involve the supreme experts of the continent before it could be understood.

Chen Changsheng understood. With a rather vacant look on his face, he began to think, if we compare in terms of people who are the same age as me, then I...ah, there's still Xu Yourong and lady Chen Chujian; how could I be the strongest? Su Li did not know what Chen Changsheng was thinking about, or else he would definitely tease him a little. He continued to say to Zhu Luo, ”There's still another problem: you retreated too fiercely.”

Zhu Luo said nothing. The fine rain fell down, but it did not dare to touch the cape over his body and floated away to avoid it.

”Back then, with your one sword reflecting the moon, you could kill the second Demon General in one blow. But now, how could you possibly be Hai Di's opponent? Once you were a confident youth who could write poems and kill his enemies, but now you've already gotten old, lacking any of the drive. If that were all, fine. But contrary to expectations, your manner is not at all imposing, not even comparable to that woman Tianhai. In the past several hundred years, you didn't even dare to take a single step into the capital. Today, you want to take an opportunity to kill a junior that might threaten your position. Tsk, tsk, you really have grown up.”

Su Li continued, ”Why? You're old—almost a thousand years old—and should have died a long time ago. To be old and not die, what is that? It's a thief, an old thief. Ah, people. They're just like trees. When they're at their healthiest and sturdiest, they should do their best to brag in the spring wind. When they grow too old and still cling desperately to their lives, their bodies will grow old and their wood will rot, until finally a lightning bolt cleaves down and turns them into burnt ash. Just what meaning is there in that?”

Zhu Luo finally opened his mouth and said to Su Li, ”Are you done speaking?”

Su Li replied, ”I'm done scolding.”

Zhu Luo replied, ”What you say is reasonable.”

Su Li's sword-like brows perked upwards and he said with some interest, ”How about it?”

Zhu Luo responded, ”This is your second sword.”

Every word condemning, every phrase like a sword—although Su Li was so wounded that he couldn't fight, he still had his sword heart. His spoken words also had the ability to wound others.

Su Li calmly looked at him and confirmed that this old fellow truly had the qualification to be absolutely arrogant. He actually hadn't been the least bit affected.

”I've received two of your swords. Then, it should be my turn to take out my sword.”

With these words, Zhu Luo's right hand descended like a dragon breaking through the clouds. It came to his waist and gripped the hilt of his sword.

The dark clouds grew heavier, the dense rain fell, the skies grew darker, and the leaves fell layer upon layer, dancing in between the droplets of rain as they filled the sky.

Zhu Luo extracted his sword from its sheath. This sword was not very bright and didn't seem very unusual. Yet the edges of the dark clouds that shrouded Xunyang City abruptly grew brighter, as if they had been plated with silver. Was it a halo of light? What was behind the layer of clouds? Was it the sun? No, it was that which should never have appeared in the world of humans: the Moon of the demons.

In Zhu Luo's past, this had been his greatest glory.

Many years ago, on the snowy plains, he saw the bright moon, recited a very beautiful poem, and slew a very powerful opponent. Just like that, he became one of the supreme experts of the continent and obtained the title of Solitary Drunk Under the Moon.

At last, this expert displayed to Xunyang City the true sight of the Saint Realm.

Separated by layers and layers of heavy rain and innumerable fallen leaves, Chen Changsheng still sensed the boundless and dignified strength of that light. He felt his body become more rigid, so much that he subconsciously wanted to flee. Was this the Saint Realm? Originally, ‘domain’ here had not referred to the Star Domain of the Star Condensation Realm. A light enveloped all with no boundary of any sort. Then how could one attack it? He had studied the Daoist Canon since he was a child, and in terms of experience and learning, he wouldn't lose to anyone. Yet he could not understand the light at the edge of the dark clouds and the light brought by that sword, because the laws and operations of the Divine Domain had already surpassed his ability to understand.

The pitch-black rain, the shining sword, the leaden clouds which seemed ready to ignite.

Before such a spectacular backdrop, Wang Po's figure seemed all the more insignificant, as if it could be swallowed up at any moment.

”Forget it!” Chen Changsheng yelled at him.

Wang Po did not turn around. ”I still want to try. It's not easy to get this sort of experience.”

The downpour washed his face that was without fear and without joy. Just like his voice, it was so calm that it would make the heart tremble and feel respect.

It was a true calm, a calm like hearing the Dao in the morning and being willing to die in the evening. (TN: This is a reference to the line in the Analects of Confucius, ”If I hear the Way in the morning, I am content even to die that evening”.)

Chen Changsheng said no more. He knew that he had once again learned a few more things.

Zhu Luo's sword had come.

The world was maybe bright, or maybe dark. As the sword came, the dark storm came holding the light. No matter how vast the world was, there would still be no place to hide. Wang Po also had no way to hide.

He once again struck out with his blade. He brandished his blade in the same old, straightforward style, but the place where the blade energy landed was completely different.

He did not cleave at the sword glow, not at the sky of dancing leaves, not at Zhu Luo ten-odd zhang away, but at the storm.

At the path which the storm traveled through the air.

Wang Po's metal blade fell straightforwardly, chopping apart the pillars of rain, ripping apart the threads of wind, and tearing apart the air.

With a screech, a gloomy hole appeared in the rainy street.

As long as one was in this world, there was no way to avoid Zhu Luo's sword?

Then he would cleave open a new road and go together to a new world!