Maximum Comprehension: Taking Care of Swords In A Sword Pavilion



Han Muye chuckled and reached out to stroke her hair. "Let's go, we're going to meet that senior."

They came to this desolate starry sky in search of the secret place where the senior sword cultivator passed away, not for a leisurely outing.

Speaking of leisurely outings, isn't it too extravagant to travel back in time and admire the scenery of ten thousand years ago?

The further they went, the more sword cultivators they saw soaring through the air on their flying swords.

"Yulu City?"

In front of them, a magnificent city stood, and Han Muye spoke softly as he looked at the inscription on the city gate that exuded a sword-like radiance.

"Yes, Yulu City, Sword Venerable Yulu."

Zhao Yu, who had come flying on his sword, spoke out loudly with a look of joy on his face.

Sword Venerable Yulu.

Han Muye was not familiar with this name, but someone who bears the title of Sword Venerable must naturally be a powerful swordsman.

Following those sword cultivators, they entered the city and headed straight to a 100,000-foot-long limestone square filled with people.

"That's the Sword Venerable Yulu !" Zhao Yu exclaimed.

On a jade high platform in the center of the square stood a Daoist wearing a jade-white robe, with an ancient face, standing proudly with his hands behind his back.

Sword energy crisscrossed around the Daoist, and he seemed to be speaking loudly, while all the sword cultivators below stared intently at the sword energy.

Unfortunately, there was only light and shadow, and not a single sound could be heard.

However, the ever-changing sword energy and the shocked and awed expressions of the surrounding sword cultivators all indicated that this Daoist's swordsmanship was extraordinary.

Mu Wan wanted to ask Han Muye about the swordsmanship of this senior, but when she turned her head, she saw a shimmering halo swirling in her senior brother's eyes.

"It's a pity, we can only see illusions and cannot perceive the sword intent within." One of the disciples from the Sword Pavilion who had come with Zhao Yu expressed regret.

Not only him, but all the people from the various sects who had gathered in the square at this time felt the same.

The Daoist's sword energy was undoubtedly extremely powerful, and perhaps he was showcasing his inheritance by demonstrating his swordsmanship while speaking.

But without comprehending the sword intent and without hearing the explanations, relying solely on that sword energy, who could receive the inheritance.

"Fortunately, this is just an illusion. The true secret place should not be here." Someone sighed and said.

Where could the real inheritance be?

"Yulu, the Sword of Guardianship, the dynamic spirit of water," murmured Han Muye, as he repeatedly deduced the sword energy in his mind.

Unbeknownst to him, a subtle power that outsiders couldn't perceive flickered within him.

Han Muye looked up, and the Taoist on the high platform turned his head.

Their eyes met.

In that instant, they traversed through 10,000 years.

In that glance, Han Muye broke through his retrospective view of time and came from 10,000 years ago.

"Boom!"

The void trembled, all things withered, and in an instant, all the light and shadows dissipated.

The grand city, the spacious square, the people gathered on the square, the nearby streets, the distant mountains…

All brilliance turned into desolation.

All prosperity turned to dust.

In the blink of an eye, the entire Yulu City became ruins.

The once vibrant and verdant stars returned to their previous silence.

This extreme and contrasting change made Mu Wan's heart tremble, and tears welled up in her eyes.

She didn't know why, but she felt an inexplicable sadness.

Perhaps, this is the nature of time.

The most uncontrollable force in the world.

The scattered cultivators around looked at each other in confusion.

Why did the illusion suddenly disappear?

"Maintaining such a large formation consumes unimaginable energy. It's rare for this illusion formation to bring us here," said the white-bearded Daoist who had spoken before, sweeping his gaze around and landing on the dilapidated high platform ahead.

He pointed with his hand and said softly, "That sword, perhaps, is the key."

Swords.

The high platform ahead had already collapsed, leaving only half of it intact.

But a rusty and weathered long sword was firmly stuck in the high platform.

A figure flew up.

"Hmph." Someone snorted, his sword striking first.

"Get lost." Someone took a step forward, their figure breaking through the void.

"Die." A long blade swept horizontally, casting down a hundred zhang of sword light.

The battle erupted in an instant, reaching its most fierce and brutal state.

Blood, soul, spiritual light, nascent soul, primordial spirit, and fallen pillars of light flashed. The collision of spells and sword techniques and saber light sounded like thunder.

On the square, , the sudden eruption of dense spiritual energy turned the originally lifeless world into a riot of colors.

If it weren't for the stillness of this place, where the power of spiritual energy could not harmonize with the power of heaven and earth, this chaotic collision alone would have shattered everything within a radius of a thousand miles.

Zhao Yu and the members of the Sword Pavilion beside him had changing expressions, but ultimately, they stayed by Han Muye's side without moving.

As good as the sword weapon was, it couldn't be obtained so easily in the midst of such chaos.

Even though they were disciples of the Sword Pavilion, they knew their own capabilities and understood that it was impossible for them to snatch this sword from the hands of so many powerful individuals.

Moreover, at this moment, it seemed that their greatest task was not to seize a corroded sword whose usefulness was uncertain but to protect Han Muye and his companions.

""Senior brother, is that sword useful?" Mu Wan couldn't bear it and asked softly, her face showing reluctance.

"It is," Han Muye nodded.

His words caused the members of the Sword Pavilion to unconsciously clench their fists.

"This sword has been here for ten thousand years, attracting countless strong individuals to offer their blood and souls. Do you think it's useless?" Han Muye chuckled lightly and said casually.

Blood and soul nourishment!

Zhao Yu was startled and turned to look at Han Muye.

"Buzz!"

Just at that moment, the long sword on the high platform in front gently trembled, and a burst of blood light enveloped the few experts closest to the platform.

When the blood light dissipated, those individuals had already disappeared from their original positions.

"The secret realm!"

Someone exclaimed and rushed forward without hesitation.

Others didn't hesitate either.

In the entire square, only Han Muye and a few cautious individuals remained standing at the back without approaching.

In less than a hundred breaths, the square had become completely empty.

Nearly 1,000 cultivators from various factions had all vanished beneath that high platform.

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