Martial Arts Secret Realm: Only I Can Know the Plot?

"Blood Blade Ancestor?" the person spoke, his voice not loud but clear, as if he had used some kind of internal energy.

Blood Saber Ancestor did not answer. His right hand slowly gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist, and the sword made a soft sound as it was sheathed.

"Who are you?"

"Sun Fan."

Blood Sabre Ancestor searched his memory for the name but found no recollection of it. It wasn't from the four great families of Jiangnan, nor the four strange figures of the North, nor any martial arts figure he knew or had ever heard of.

"What are you doing here?"

Sun Fan didn't answer immediately. He looked into the Blood Blade Ancestor's eyes, remained silent for a moment, and then spoke: "Pick them up."

"Who are you picking up?"

"Di Yun".

Blood Blade Ancestor's fingers tightened their grip on the hilt of the sword.

Blood Blade Ancestor suddenly laughed. The laugh was very light, like a pebble rolling down his throat, and as he laughed, the laugh turned into a cold laugh.

"Wasn't the old monk good to him? He healed his leg, gave him food, taught him kung fu, and even gave him women. Why did he run away?"

Sun Fan did not answer.

"Tell him, what did the old monk do to wrong him?" Blood Blade Ancestor's voice suddenly rose, echoing through the snow-capped mountains, causing the distant snow to fall in a flurry. "Make him come out and tell the old monk face to face!!"

For someone like Blood Blade Ancestor, making sacrifices is not easy.

His heart had long been numbed by years of evil deeds and bloodshed.

Di Yun was one of the few people he genuinely cared about; he truly felt that Di Yun was good to him.

He even considered having Di Yun inherit the Blood Blade Sect.

Perhaps the Blood Blade Sect can become different in his hands?

Therefore, he could not tolerate Di Yun's betrayal.

Sun Fan remained silent, simply standing there with his right hand on the hilt of his sword, his expression calm.

"You did not wrong Di Yun."

"It wasn't Di Yun who wanted to kill you, it was me."

Blood Saber Ancestor stared at him for a long time, then suddenly stopped laughing.

"The old monk understands." His voice returned to its hoarse, deep tone.

Blood Blade Ancestor loosened his grip on the hilt of his sword, then clenched it again, then loosened it again. His breathing became rapid, not from anger—his anger had already subsided. What remained in his heart now was boundless rage.

"The old monk is a bad person," he said in a low voice, as if repeating a fact he had known all along. "The old monk has always been a bad person. He has killed people, set fires, stolen women, and done all sorts of bad things you can and can't even imagine. The old monk doesn't think of himself as a good person."

He looked up at Sun Fan, and suddenly there was something indescribable in his eyes.

"But the old monk did not wrong him."

Sun Fan was silent for a moment, then nodded.

"I know."

Blood Blade Ancestor was stunned for a moment.

"But your kindness isn't the kind of kindness he wants," Sun Fan continued. "What he wants is someone who allows him to live with dignity, not a grandmaster who only teaches him petty theft, murder, and plunder. Your kindness is about turning him into someone like you. His kindness is about turning you into someone like him."

He looked into the eyes of the Blood Saber Ancestor: "You are not of the same ilk."

Blood Saber Ancestor stood there, motionless.

The wind blew his monk's robes, making them flutter. Snowflakes hit his face, but he didn't even blink.

After a long time, he suddenly smiled.

This time, he genuinely smiled. It wasn't a cold laugh or a bitter laugh; it was the kind of smile that comes from finally understanding something, with a touch of relief.

"The old monk understands," he said. "In his life, the old monk has killed countless people and has never felt that he has done anything wrong. But there is one thing the old monk did wrong."

"What is it?"

"The old monk shouldn't be considered one of our own." Blood Blade Ancestor shook his head. "People like the old monk shouldn't have any 'one of our own'."

He gripped the dagger tightly.

"The old monk's life is worthless. But the old monk's knife is valuable."

He looked at Sun Fan, and there was something new in his eyes—not killing intent, but something purer, more like the bond between martial artists.

"You're here to pick him up. The old monk is here to catch up with him. There's nothing between us."

He took a step forward.

"Let's get started."

Sun Fan drew his sword.

The moment the sword was drawn, the surrounding air seemed to freeze for a split second. It wasn't an illusion; it was the sword intent, a sword intent that didn't belong to this realm.

However, the Blood Blade Ancestor didn't care. He had already reached the threshold of the Enlightenment Realm.

If I can survive this time in these snow-capped mountains.

He might very well become a master of the fifth realm.

At that time, he can go anywhere in the vast world!

Blood Blade Ancestor's pupils contracted slightly. He held his ring blade horizontally in front of him, the tip of the blade slightly raised, assuming a stance that combined offense and defense.

"What a fine sword," he said.

Sun Fan did not answer.

He was observing.

He wasn't observing the Blood Saber Ancestor's blade, but rather the snow beneath his feet. He had already scouted this terrain before coming. He remembered perfectly where there were rocks beneath the snow, ice caves beneath the snow, where the ice was loose, and where the snow caves were about to collapse.

Blood Blade Ancestor had lived on the snow mountain for decades and was far more familiar with the terrain than him. But he had one advantage—he had studied basic geology in the mortal world, knew the structure of snow layers, the load-bearing limit of ice surfaces, and the triggering conditions for avalanches.

Blood Blade Ancestor may have some understanding of these things through years of accumulation, but it is certainly not as accurate as his.

He just needs one chance.

An opportunity to lure the Blood Blade Ancestor to that loose ice surface.

The Blood Blade Ancestor made a move.

His movements were astonishingly fast. Despite being severely injured and having only half his internal energy remaining, he still moved like a true ferocious beast from the snowy mountains the moment he pounced. The ring-shaped dagger slashed down from above with a whistling sound, its blade aimed directly at Sun Fan's neck.

This strike was swift, ruthless, and precise.

Sun Fan turned to the side, the tip of his sword touched the blade, and used the momentum to slide two steps to the side.

There was no direct confrontation.

He didn't want to clash head-on with the Blood Saber Ancestor. Even if the Blood Saber Ancestor only had 50% of his power left, his total internal energy still overwhelmed him. A direct confrontation would result in his sword being knocked away, his arm being broken, and him losing his fighting ability in the first round.

What he wants is to maneuver.

He maneuvered using the terrain, his swordsmanship, and the precise control over distance and timing that he had honed over twenty years.

Blood Blade Ancestor's first strike missed, but without pausing, a second strike came crashing down. This strike was even faster than the first, the blade slicing through the air with a sharp screech.

Sun Fan has withdrawn again.

This time they retreated even further, taking three steps back, until they reached behind a protruding rock.

Blood Blade Ancestor's blade struck the rock, sparks flying, and a crack was cleaved in the rock, sending fragments flying. His wrist trembled, the wound on his left shoulder aggravated, and he winced in pain, but his blade did not stop, sweeping horizontally towards Sun Fan's waist.

Sun Fan did not back down.

He took half a step forward, and with the tip of his sword, he flicked upwards, aiming at the wrist of the Blood Blade Ancestor.

This sword strike wasn't fast, but the angle was tricky.