Starting as the heir of a marquis's mansion, I gained access to a summoning system.

The three elders of the Sword Pavilion sneaked into Guangling Prefecture City in the dead of night.

The main altar of Eryuetang was located south of Guangling Prefecture. It was originally a villa belonging to the Zhao family, which was later occupied and slightly renovated by Chai Yuguan. The courtyard was not large, with blue bricks and black tiles, and was as simple as an ordinary well-off family.

Lu Chenfeng, Liu Xuantan, and Zhong Mu approached silently from three directions. They did not alert the sentries on the outer perimeter—those sentries were practically useless against a Grandmaster at the peak of his level. The three of them walked on the roof tiles with footsteps lighter than cats, their breathing was suppressed to a barely perceptible level, and even their heartbeats were deliberately slowed down by half a beat.

They met on the roof ridge directly above the courtyard, glanced at each other, and nodded simultaneously.

Lu Chenfeng made a hand gesture. The three of them landed simultaneously.

The moment Chai Yuguan pushed open the door of the main hall, three long swords had already fallen.

He had clearly heard some noise before coming out—his robes were neat, his hair was tied up perfectly, and the jade belt around his waist was fastened properly. This indicated that he hadn't just woken up from a dream, but had been fully awake the whole time. He had even circulated his inner energy to its maximum before pushing open the door.

But he didn't have time to dodge.

The Three Powers Sword Formation is complete. The three powers of Heaven, Earth, and Man work together to seal off all escape routes within a radius of ten feet.

Lu Chenfeng launched a frontal assault. His Vajra Sword Intent pressed down like a mountain, and a beam of azure sword energy exploded in the night sky, creating a pillar of light over ten feet long. Even before the sword arrived, spiderweb-like cracks appeared on the bluestone slab beneath Chai Yuguan's feet. These cracks spread outwards from his feet, and fragments of stone bounced up under the impact of his true energy.

Liu Xuantan approached from the left. His swordsmanship was completely different from Lu Chenfeng's—effortless, unpredictable, and silent. The tip of his sword flickered erratically, like the forked tongue of a venomous snake, leaving seven afterimages in the air, each pointing towards a vital acupoint of Chai Yuguan. The afterimages were indistinguishable from reality, a blur of illusion and reality; the slightest carelessness would result in the blade piercing the body.

Zhong Mu circled around and blocked Chai Yuguan's retreat. His sword aura was condensed but not unleashed, the tip of the sword lowered, seemingly posing no threat, but Chai Yuguan's back was locked in a tight space by his aura—taking a step back would be walking into a trap.

The three swordsmen's swordplay was perfectly coordinated. This was not a simple combination of three peak Grandmasters, but a killing formation where one plus one plus one equals more than three. Heaven, Earth, and Man were one, with no gaps in offense or defense, allowing any one of them to launch a fatal blow at any time from any angle.

Chai Yuguan did not retreat.

Those eyes were as calm as a stagnant pool, as if what lay before him were not three peak Grandmasters, but three ignorant and arrogant juniors.

He raised his right hand, spread his five fingers, and struck out with his palm.

This palm strike appeared unremarkable—no earth-shattering phenomena, no dazzling light, even the palm wind seemed somewhat dull. But where the palm wind passed, a series of low, booming sounds exploded in the air, like muffled thunder rolling underground, like a giant beast roaring in its chest. It was the sound of true energy being compressed to its limit and tearing through the air, the unreserved outpouring of a Grandmaster's full cultivation at this moment.

They clashed swords.

"boom--"

A deafening roar exploded in the night sky, the sound waves sweeping outwards like a tidal wave. The old locust tree in the courtyard was snapped in half by the aftershock; its trunk, as thick as a bowl, let out a miserable groan as the upper half of its crown, laden with leaves, crashed down, scattering broken leaves everywhere, which shattered into dust as they fell to the ground.

Lu Chenfeng retreated three steps, each step leaving a deep footprint on the bluestone slab, the edges of which curled up gravel as if struck by a giant hammer. He glanced down at his right hand—his tiger's mouth was cracked, blood trickling down the hilt of his sword, dripping onto the shattered bluestone. His Great Vajra Sword Intent had been directly shattered by a single palm strike.

Lu Chenfeng's pupils suddenly contracted.

Before arriving, the Sword Pavilion had assessed Chai Yuguan's combat strength—he could kill Zhao Tianxiong with a single palm strike, indicating he was at least a late-stage Grandmaster. With three peak Sword Pavilion elders joining forces and using the Three Talents Sword Formation to surround and kill him, they should have a sure victory. No surprises.

But after that palm strike, he realized his deduction was wrong.

This person was not a late-stage Grandmaster. He was a top figure among the peak Grandmasters, and had even touched the threshold of the Great Grandmaster. The depth of true energy in that palm strike was no less than that of Lu Chenfeng, and the unwavering determination contained in the palm technique was something Lu Chenfeng had never seen before.

Using the force of the recoil, Chai Yuguan shifted to the left, barely dodging Liu Xuantan's subtle sword strike from his left. The sword tip grazed his ribs, slicing off a piece of clothing to reveal a white undergarment. The fabric fluttered in the air like a pear blossom blown by the wind.

At the same time, Chai Yuguan's right elbow slammed in, carrying a spiraling stream of true energy, aiming straight for Zhong Mu's chest. Zhong Mu had no choice but to retract his sword to parry, holding the blade horizontally in front of his chest to take the blow head-on. The spiraling true energy collided with the sword, producing a deafening clang of metal against metal. Zhong Mu was shaken so badly that his blood surged, a sweet taste rose in his throat, and a mouthful of blood welled up, which he forcefully swallowed back down.

In a single exchange, the Three Talents Sword Formation was forcibly cracked.

Lu Chenfeng took a deep breath, his true energy rapidly circulating within his body. The bleeding from his shattered tiger's mouth quickly stopped under the infusion of true energy. He steadied himself, holding his longsword horizontally in front of him, his gaze fixed intently on Chai Yuguan, like a wolf that had become even more frenzied after being wounded.

"Change formation." His voice was low and urgent, only two words, but Liu Xuantan and Zhong Mu understood at the same time.

The three longswords struck together once more.

This time, the three of them held back. The price of holding back might be death here.

Lu Chenfeng unleashed his Vajra Sword Intent to its fullest extent, condensing his sword energy into a ten-foot-long azure pillar of light, like a divine sword of judgment descending from the heavens, crushing down head-on. Wherever the pillar passed, the air was torn into a vacuum, emitting a piercing shriek. The bluestone slabs beneath Chai Yuguan's feet could not withstand this pressure, shattering and sinking piece by piece.

Liu Xuantan's swordplay shifted from gentle and subtle to unpredictable and treacherous. The sword tip traced seven afterimages in the air—no, nine—each carrying a palpable killing intent, each capable of being fatal. The afterimages moved like ghosts around Chai Yuguan, like nine venomous snakes simultaneously pouncing on their prey.

Zhong Mu's longsword thrust out silently, skimming the ground. The sword energy darted along the bluestone slab like a dragon hidden beneath the earth, carving a deep furrow into the stone, sending pebbles and dust flying everywhere. The sword energy aimed directly at Chai Yuguan's heels; if it hit, it would sever both his legs at the knees.

The true killing move of the Three Talents Sword Formation is: Heaven Collapses, Earth Shatters, and Man Annihilates.

Chai Yuguan roared.

That roar didn't sound like the howl of an injured person, but more like the howl of a tiger cornered in a desperate situation. The sound exploded in the courtyard, making the three people's eardrums ache, and even the roof tiles trembled slightly.

He unleashed both palms simultaneously. True energy condensed into a semi-transparent wall of energy in front of him, half a foot thick, its surface shimmering with a faint golden light, like an invisible fortress of bronze and iron. The energy wall clashed head-on with Lu Chenfeng's Heaven-Shattering Sword Qi—the moment the cyan pillar of light struck the energy wall, the entire courtyard trembled, and the light radiated outwards, almost blindingly so.

The air barrier trembled violently, its surface cracking with countless fine fissures, like a mirror about to shatter. But it did not break. It blocked the ten-foot-long sword aura, pushing it back inch by inch.

At the same time, Chai Yuguan stomped his right foot on the ground.

This stomp shattered the bluestone slab beneath his feet, breaking through the layer of gravel beneath and sinking into the soil. The entire courtyard's bluestone slabs exploded under this immense force, the fragments flying in all directions like hidden weapons, scattering Liu Xuantan's seven—no, nine—afterimages with sharp whistling sounds.

The afterimages shattered amidst the rain of pebbles, like popped soap bubbles, dissipating into the air one after another. Liu Xuantan had no choice but to sheathe his sword and defend, his longsword dancing in front of him like an impenetrable curtain of light, deflecting all the pebbles flying towards him.

Chai Yuguan's stomp also deflected Zhong Mu's sword aura, which was moving close to the ground. The sword aura swept past Chai Yuguan's feet and crashed into the courtyard wall, blasting a three-foot-wide hole in the entire blue brick wall. Fragments of bricks and stones flew several feet away, drawing arcs in the night sky.

But Liu Xuantan was, after all, an elder of the Sword Pavilion.

Seeing his afterimage shattered, he advanced instead of retreating—the dignity of a Sword Pavilion elder did not allow him to back down after a single exchange. He gritted his teeth, flicked his longsword, and a thin, hair-like sword aura pierced through the cracks in the rubble, like a silent venomous snake, passing through the flying pebbles and dust, sweeping across Chai Yuguan's waist.

Where the sword energy passed, clothing was torn and flesh was ripped open.

The sword tip pierced the flesh three inches deep, sweeping from the left waist to the right, almost severing the ribs. Blood didn't even have time to gush out in that instant—because the sword was too fast, so fast that the wound didn't react for a breath before the blood gushed out, the dark red blood appearing particularly glaring in the moonlight.

Chai Yuguan's body swayed slightly.

Blood gushed from his waist, streaming down his robes and staining half his body crimson. The pool of blood on the flagstones spread rapidly, reflecting the moonlight like a dark red mirror. He knelt on one knee, his right hand braced against the broken flagstone, his palm pressed against a sharp, jagged pebble, his knuckles white. His left hand could still clench into a fist, the knuckles pressed against the ground, supporting his body so he didn't fall.

Blood dripped from his waist, one drop, two drops, three drops... pooling on the stone slab, forming a small puddle, then another small puddle, until the two puddle pools gradually merged into one.

When Lu Chenfeng saw Chai Yuguan kneeling, a ruthless glint flashed in his eyes.

He raised his longsword, its blade gleaming coldly in the moonlight. A powerful aura condensed on the blade, a surge of azure light that cast a deathly pale glow on half his face. A slight upturn to his lips—not a smile, but the instinctive reaction of a hunter about to succeed.

He merely chuckled coldly and slowly raised his head. His gaze didn't resemble that of a wounded and trapped prey, but rather that of an enraged tiger—the more severely wounded, the stronger its killing intent. The light in those eyes wasn't the madness of despair, but a calm, burning, and predatory glint.

He took a deep breath.

The wound on his waist opened up even wider with that one breath, and blood gushed out more violently. Dark red blood splattered onto his palm, which was bracing itself on the ground, and seeped into the cracks between his fingers. But Chai Yuguan was completely unaware—as if it wasn't his body at all, as if the wound on his waist was just a scratch on someone else's body.

He slowly pushed himself up with his hands, inching his way to his feet. The pebbles beneath his palms cracked and sputtered, some embedding themselves in his flesh, but he couldn't feel them. His inner energy surged wildly throughout his body, the energy in his meridians like ignited magma, rushing and roaring through his limbs and bones, emitting a low rumble—a sound that didn't come from his throat, but from within his body, like muffled thunder from the depths of the earth, like the heartbeat of an ancient behemoth.

He stood up straight.

Blood was still flowing from his waist, and half of his robe was soaked through and clung to his body. But his back was straight, his head held high, and there was not a trace of fear in his eyes.

Three Grandmasters at their peak. The Three Talents Sword Formation. A sword at his waist nearly cost him his life.

"Three Grandmasters at their peak," Chai Yuguan's voice was hoarse and low, like iron polished with sandpaper, each word squeezed out from between his teeth. A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, but he didn't even wipe it away.

"Is that all you've got?"

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like a needle piercing the ears of everyone present.

Lu Chenfeng's heart skipped a beat. The sword energy condensed to its peak on his sword, its azure light illuminating the entire courtyard. But he held the sword, hesitating to strike.

He had seen many people. He had seen those who begged for mercy before death, those who closed their eyes and awaited death, and those who fought back in desperation. But he had never seen anyone like this—severely wounded, almost cut in half at the waist, yet not only did he not fall, not retreat, not feel fear, but his fighting spirit and killing intent grew even stronger.

Is this person insane, or simply unafraid of death?

Lu Chenfeng didn't know. But he knew he had no way out. He gritted his teeth, crushing the last trace of hesitation in his heart, and brought his longsword down with a thunderous crash.

"cut--"