Volume One: The Emperor’s Sword Chapter 8: Invincible When the Sword Is Drawn

When Yun Que saw Chu Heng, he was not particularly surprised.

Since Chu Xi was a disciple cultivated by the Medicine Daoist, it was certain that Chu Heng was also in league with the Pharmacists’ Monastery.

What did surprise him, however, was that Han Jiao was present as well—and worse, held at swordpoint.

"Yun Que, run!" Han Jiao shouted with all her strength.

If Yun Que could escape, at least he could bring word back to the Han family and avenge her in the future.

"Run?" Chu Heng burst into raucous laughter. "Where could he run? Since the Daoist Master has acted, he is doomed to die today!"

Others might not know how powerful the Medicine Daoist was, but Chu Heng was well aware.

All the cultivators in Yanmen Town combined could not withstand a single squeeze of the Daoist's hand!

Utterly unfathomable!

Ever since the Medicine Daoist came to Yanmen Town in person, Chu Heng knew that Yun Que's death was inevitable this time.

Let alone a boy with no cultivation— even his own younger brother, who possessed third-layer Qi Refining cultivation, was but an ant before the Daoist.

"This is no longer your concern. Leave now." Yun Que gestured to the mother and daughter of the Han family.

Han Jiao was momentarily stunned, unable to discern what Yun Que meant by his words.

All were lambs to the slaughter; would Chu Heng ever let the two women go?

Once Chu Heng revealed the secret of the Pharmacists’ Monastery, Han Jiao knew there was no hope of survival for her today.

"Still putting on airs like a marquis even at death’s door? Yun Que, do you think this is still your marquisate?" Chu Heng jeered, and the others burst out laughing, casting derisive glances at Yun Que as though he were a fool.

No one present, not even the Han women, believed a word he said.

"Let them go."

The Medicine Daoist, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke. His voice was hoarse.

The laughter in the great hall ceased abruptly.

"We can’t let them go, Master! They know our secret about abducting women—if we let them live, it will bring disaster upon us!" Chu Heng exclaimed in alarm.

"Let them go. Don’t make me say it a third time."

The Daoist repeated his order, expressionless.

The gaunt man, cowed by the Daoist’s authority, instinctively moved the sword away from Han Jiao.

Seizing the chance, Han Jiao hurriedly helped her mother to safety.

Before the two women could steady themselves, Chu Heng suddenly shouted, "No! The Daoist’s voice isn’t right!"

"Insolence!"

The Medicine Daoist glared, and without warning, swung his palm at Chu Heng.

The Daoist’s sudden action drew everyone’s attention.

At that very moment, Yun Que put all his strength into his feet, shooting forward like an arrow, and crashed into the gaunt man.

This strike had been planned long in advance!

The Chu family had only one true cultivator—the gaunt man—so Yun Que had marked him as his first target.

Although the gaunt man possessed third-tier Qi Refining cultivation, he reacted the moment Yun Que closed in.

It was too late to summon his magical tools. He crossed his twin swords before him, shielding his vital points, intending to block the blow first.

If he could just catch his breath, with two magical swords in hand, he was fully confident he could slay Yun Que.

To his shock, Yun Que’s move was a mere feint—he did not attack his vitals but instead struck with all his might at the man’s right hand.

The pain made the man loosen his grip, and the sword was snatched away.

And not just any sword—the one Yun Que seized was Han Jiao’s mid-grade magical sword.

"You were after the sword all along!" the gaunt man realized at last, furious.

So his opponent’s aim from the start had been the sword, not the man.

Yun Que steadied himself, sword in hand, and his entire demeanor suddenly became razor-sharp.

He could not be sure of slaying a Qi Refining cultivator with his bare hands, but with a sword, he was certain he could defeat any opponent of the same rank.

"So what if you’ve seized a mid-grade magical sword? Do you even know how to use it? Boy, let me show you what swordsmanship truly means!"

Vexed at being toyed with, the gaunt man hurled his sword and wove a sword seal with his fingers.

The flying sword soared upward, hovered above his head, and pointed its tip at Yun Que. Sword energy roared as it shot forth.

Sword Control Arts!

This was the greatest difference between cultivators and martial artists—a chasm like the heavens.

As the flying sword took wing, Han Jiao’s face turned ashen.

She, a martial artist, could withstand the sword-energy baptism of the Sword Testing Pavilion with a magical weapon, but she could never block a real flying sword.

The sword energy in the pavilion was not meant to kill—its strength gradually increased, and if one could not withstand it, one simply withdrew.

But when a cultivator unleashed a flying sword, it was a fight to the death—there would be no holding back!

Facing the oncoming sword, Yun Que gathered the energy of his Sword Meridian and poured it all into the blade.

He knew no Sword Control Arts; he could only use the crudest method to unleash the sword’s full power.

At that moment, it was as if a sword’s song resounded in Yun Que’s meridian—a dragon’s roar.

His whole body felt as if it were boiling.

It was the jubilation of the Sword Meridian, awakened for the first time.

The Nine Tribulations Sword, after countless years of slumber, roared once more as it left its sheath.

As Yun Que’s blade met the flying sword in mid-air, a clear, crisp sound rang out in the hall.

Crack!

The gaunt man’s sword, driven by his full power, snapped in two.

Clang!

The two pieces clattered to the ground. The gaunt man stared in disbelief, his mind blank.

Even if his opponent wielded a mid-grade magical sword, it should not have been easy to cleave his lower-grade magical sword in one blow—he was using Sword Control Arts, after all!

The sword’s power had been fully unleashed!

And the other had not even mastered Sword Control!

How could his sword break?

Before he could grasp what had happened, the world before him suddenly split in two, parting to left and right.

Thud.

The gaunt man’s body fell in two halves.

He had been sliced clean through by sword energy.

Yun Que did not know Sword Control Arts, but the sword energy he released was far more terrifying than a flying sword.

Such was the power of the Sword Meridian.

So long as a sword was in hand, man and sword became one.

With sword in hand, there was no equal.

Having slain his opponent with one stroke, Yun Que finally relaxed.

With the only cultivator dead, the rest would be easy.

Seeing things turn dire, several of Chu Heng’s thugs tried to flee, only to be intercepted by the disciples of the Pharmacists’ Monastery outside.

"Dispose of them. Leave none alive," commanded Old He in a hoarse voice.

The disciples bowed and obeyed, swarming forward and beating the thugs to death on the spot.

Serving under the Medicine Daoist for many years, these disciples never questioned the authenticity of their master. Even if he ordered them to take their own lives, they would not dare resist.

Soon, only Chu Heng remained, trembling with terror.

Chu Heng spat in hatred, "My Chu clan has an elder stationed in the Sword Palace! If you dare touch me, my clan will grind your bones to dust!"

The Chu clan was formidable, with its main house in the imperial city; Chu Heng was but a branch in Yanmen Town.

"How fortunate," Yun Que replied with a smile. "I, this marquis, am cursed by fate—alone and unburdened. Whoever dares provoke me, I will wipe out their entire clan."

Crack.

Old He swung his blade, and Chu Heng’s head rolled to the ground.

The battle in the great hall had ended so swiftly that the Han women had not even regained their senses before discovering themselves saved and all the thugs dead.

At the sight of the corpses, Madam Han nearly fainted.

Han Jiao, though somewhat steadier, remained wary of the Medicine Daoist and increasingly confused by the situation before her.

This was clearly Chu Heng’s territory and the Medicine Daoist, as the abbot here, should have joined forces with Chu Heng to deal with Yun Que.

Why then had he turned on Chu Heng instead?

And now, Yun Que seemed more like the true master of this place.

"Marquis Yun, there is something strange about this monastery..." Han Jiao whispered, keeping a wary eye on the disciples nearby.

"You two should leave first. I’ll handle things here. Lend me your sword a while longer," Yun Que said, eyes fixed on the two halves of the broken flying sword, heart aching.

Had he known the Sword Meridian was so powerful, he would have held back just now.

That was a flying sword!

Even the lowest-grade magical weapon was a delicacy in Yun Que’s eyes.

Only a whole magical weapon could provide sword energy to absorb; a broken one was useless.

Seeing Yun Que’s look of solemn grief, Han Jiao thought he was mourning the evil of the Pharmacists’ Monastery and felt even greater admiration for him.

Once the Han women had left, Yun Que closed the doors of the monastery.

Outside, on the mountain path, the Han women hurried away as if waking from a nightmare.

"If not for Marquis Yun, we would not only have lost our honor, but our lives as well," Madam Han said, sighing. "Whoever dares call Marquis Yun a jinx again, I’ll tear out their tongue myself!"

Han Jiao could not help but laugh and cry at her mother’s words. She glanced back at the monastery, her eyes full of puzzlement.

She found the Marquis Yun’s ways increasingly inscrutable.