Before she could react, Song Yao raised her hand again.
Five long swords, gleaming with cold light, suddenly shot out from Ming Ran's sword bag, drawing five silver arcs in midair before coming to a steady halt beside the two of them.
Ming Ran's pupils shrank, and her mouth fell open wide enough to fit an egg.
With just a wave of her hand, she had forcibly pulled five swords out of her sword bag?
Her swords were an heirloom of the Ming family, twelve swords forming a single entity, which made them quite different from ordinary swords.
Being able to control five of them meant reaching the fifth tier of the Seven Continents Twelve Swords.
No, wait.
She was still flying on a sword.
Six swords...
The sixth tier!
She had cultivated the Seven Continents Twelve Swords for years and had barely managed to reach the threshold of the third tier, yet she was already considered a rare genius in her family.
It was impossible for Lin Mu to have cultivated her family's technique, yet she had casually achieved the sixth tier.
And looking at her posture, controlling six swords was far from her limit.
This...
Before she could recover from her shock, Song Yao nudged her side with her foot. “Watch closely. I'm only showing you this once.”
Ming Ran cried out as she fell off the sword, caught completely off guard. A sudden sensation of weightlessness washed over her.
In the next instant, the five swords danced in unison, instantly forming a rotating formation that steadily caught her in midair.
As the sword shadows flew, one sword grazed past her ankle. The spiritual energy at its tip erupted, condensing into a crescent of lustrous white light.
Another two swords crossed and thrust forward.
The cones of spiritual energy condensing at the sword tips pierced through the clouds. The sound of breaking through the air was so sharp it felt like it would tear her eardrums, and even the surrounding air currents were whipped into whirlpools.
The remaining swords spun rapidly around her body, their blades humming as they sliced through the air. Each slash shattered the chaotic currents, condensing a stable barrier of air around her.
Ming Ran was trapped in the center of the sword formation, watching helplessly as the five swords converged and dispersed.
The transition between offense and defense was completely seamless, like five fish darting through water. It was a dazzling display, making it impossible to tell which sword was attacking and which was defending.
After a moment, the sword formation dissolved, and the sword intent gently carried her back up to the sword where Song Yao stood.
Ming Ran stood in place, her face pale and her eyes blank, still unable to snap out of her shock.
She knew her little master was powerful.
She also knew her little master was far beyond anyone else's reach.
But seeing it with her own eyes was still a massive shock.
Was she even human?
Was this even possible?
When she had previously mentioned making Lin Mu her First Master, she had only said it in passing. After all, she already had her own First Master back in the Ming family.
But looking at it now, putting aside spiritual energy cultivation realms, Lin Mu's understanding of the sword path likely surpassed that of her First Master.
Never mind someone her age; even if she were fifty or a hundred years older, anyone who could achieve this level would be considered a genius among geniuses.
Unaware of her thoughts, Song Yao snapped her fingers, and the five swords obediently returned to Ming Ran's sword bag.
She glanced sideways at the dazed girl and casually offered a pointer. “The Seven Continents Twelve Swords complement one another. It was never meant to be a technique where you mindlessly practice controlling more swords. If you stubbornly try to grind your way up tier by tier, you'll only limit yourself. But if you fully grasp the flow of the sword moves, never mind five swords—it won't be difficult to unleash all twelve at once.”
Standing on the spine of the sword, Ming Ran felt her previously blocked meridians gently nudged open by that flowing sword intent, and the fog in her mind suddenly cleared.
She stared blankly at Song Yao, her voice still trembling with lingering shock. “Master, you... who on earth are you...”
Before she could finish her sentence, Song Yao stood up and stuffed another pear into her mouth. As she stepped forward, the Bishui Sword was already waiting obediently at her feet.
She stepped onto it and flew off without looking back, her laughing voice scattering in the wind. “I don't know, it's not important. And I didn't say anything.”
Ming Ran held the pear, watching the receding green figure, a faint glimmer in her eyes.
It took her quite a while to snap out of it and hurriedly fly her sword to catch up.
...
By the time they arrived outside Wuzhou City, it was already afternoon.
The group retracted their swords and landed. At their feet lay an official road overgrown with wild grass, and a faint medicinal scent drifted on the wind.
The city gates towered ahead, tightly shut, covered by a pale green barrier that prevented them from flying in.
Ming Ran felt uneasy. “The plague must be severe, so they sealed the city to prevent it from spreading. It's fine, let's walk in.”
As she spoke, she raised her hand to push the gate open.
To her surprise, an invisible barrier also coated the gate, forcefully repelling her half a step and leaving her palm slightly numb.
Her unease deepened, and she looked up.
There wasn't a single guard to be seen on the city walls. The entire Wuzhou City was frighteningly quiet, as if devoid of all life.
The atmosphere instantly grew heavy.
Chen He also raised his hand to test the barrier. His spiritual energy hit it, only causing a ripple to spread, but it remained completely unshaken. “It doesn't look like we can break this barrier anytime soon. Why don't we search along the city wall and see if there's another entrance?”
Just as Ming Ran was about to agree, she suddenly froze upon turning around. “Why is there a temple here?”
Everyone followed her gaze.
They saw a small temple hidden in the woods on both sides of the official road.
With gray tiles and white walls, it looked like an ordinary mountain deity temple. Its doors were half-closed, and wisps of incense smoke curled out from within.
Jiang Jin remarked, “The ink on the plaque is quite clear. Was it newly built in the last couple of years?”
“Impossible,” Ming Ran immediately shook her head. “The last time I returned to the Ming family was just two months ago, and there was nothing here.”
This was near the city gates, where many street vendors usually sold their wares.
When she returned to the Ming family, she would come here every day to support the local farmers' businesses.
If a temple had been built here, she would have definitely noticed.
Cheng Yue took a step forward, her eyes falling on the temple's positioning as her brow furrowed slightly. “The temple's location is off.”
Chen He quickly asked, “What's off about it?”
Cheng Yue explained, “It's built right over the city gate's energy vent, inviting malevolence.”
Jiang Jin immediately said, “Then someone must have built this temple here on purpose. Let's go inside and take a look. It might be related to what's happening in the city.”
Chen He thought for a moment. “How about this? Sixth Senior Brother, Junior Sister Ming Ran, and I will go inside. Cheng Yue, you and Ning Zhou stay outside to protect Seventh Senior Sister and the medical cultivator seniors.”
The others nodded. “Alright.”
Ming Ran led the way. With a creak, she pushed open the half-closed temple door, and an incredibly dense scent of incense rushed over them.
Song Yao was flanked and protected by the two medical cultivators. She guessed the Seventh Elder must have entrusted these two seniors to look after her.
Accepting this without any guilt, she munched on another pear and glanced up into the temple.
In the dim temple, a stone statue of a deity stood behind the altar, towering so high it nearly pierced the ceiling. It was painted with rather crude colors, and its soft features made it impossible to distinguish if it was male or female.
One of its hands held a half-bloomed lotus pedestal, while the other cradled a swaddled bundle. Inside the bundle curled a stone baby, its eyes outlined in black ink.
She wasn't sure if it was just her imagination, but Song Yao felt as if the baby's round, cat-like eyes were staring directly at her.
Feeling uncomfortable, she averted her gaze. By the time she finished her pear and looked back, the few who had entered the temple had somehow knelt before the altar, holding incense, and were reverently bowing.
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