Chapter 387: 387, [Sword Returns to West State]
Seventeen swords flew out in reverse, ignited by the Divine Fire.

The moment their bodies were fully enveloped by Divine Fire, a bloody line appeared on their owners’ necks.

Lu Xun’s Sword Qi was so fast that it shot out from the sword sheath, instantly reaping their lives.

The swords hit the ground, and so did the bodies.

Lu Xun sat on the paper crane, flying forward about ten feet.

The foreign race next to him could hardly resist moving back a little.

The ruthless, bloodthirsty, and mad foreign race was also stunned by the sight they had just witnessed.

This incredible strategy induced fear in people!

They instinctively tightened their grip on their treasures, fearing that their weapons would also mutate.

Ye Sui’an glanced at Lu Xun and thought to himself, “Elder Lu, as a Natural Sword Embryo, his skill in controlling the sword is becoming more sophisticated.”

Having sparred several times with Lu Xun, the memories of his surprise and panic when the sword couldn’t be pulled on Lead Peak, the embarrassment and shock when the sword was reversed and flew out, were still deeply imprinted in his heart.

However, he didn’t bear any resentment or grudge towards Lu Xun but felt infinite admiration.

Now, watching the enemy fail under the same move, Ye Sui’an was surprisingly delighted!

That’s the way it should be! That’s the way it should be!

How refreshing!

Lu Xun cast a puzzled look at Ye Sui’an, whooping toward the sky.

Is this guy nuts?

Together, he and Ye Sui’an wreaked havoc in the center of the battlefield, making Ye Sui’an feel a sense of rapidly warming friendship.

Men are quite simple.

Scoring a five-kill streak in a video game and hearing their gaming ID announced over the broadcast, can leave them feeling happy for an entire day.

Just like coordinating a spectacular play with your teammates in a game, the feeling of camaraderie soars.

Within the “Four Irons of Men”, there is one “Jointly Borne Guns”, although the phrase feels weird, it means fighting side by side.

This likely has led… Ye Sui’an to think that he and Lu Xun are really close.

As for Lu Xun, he has little emotion to offer; he is solely focused on harvesting experience points, like a victorious farmer, mentally calculating the fruits of his labor.

At this point, his divine sense was nearly depleted once more, Lu Xun decisively leveled up, replenishing by kill – who would have guessed?

Having leveled up to 38, Lu Xun’s strength reached new heights.

So far, this battle was nearing its end.

Once it arrived at its climax, it should end beautifully.

A Sword Qi condensed at Lu Xun’s fingertips. It didn’t feel overflowing with spiritual energy; it seemed compact and restrained.

But in reality, it was formed by a massive convergence of Sword Qi.

This technique – albeit strong – was not frequently used by Lu Xun. Simply put, it was powerful but consumed too much energy and was not conducive to stamina; it would exhaust the user during the fight.

However, it was particularly useful at the end of the battle.

A white cloud wrapped around this Sword Qi, with sword intent brazenly adding to its Sword Qi.

The Divine Fire in the sword sheath rose on the Sword Qi, adding power and a killing intent to it!

It is said that some scholars possess a strong sense of righteousness within them.

The moment their ink falls, it carries a distinctive aura!

Lu Xun waved his robe, and a stream of ink-like airflow formed instantly.

The Sword Qi floated with the flow, wrapped in the ink-like airflow, and sped forward extremely quick.

This was Lu Xun’s modified version, taught by Elder Gui, called – Sting!

High in the sky, a gust of wind blew violently, making Lu Xun’s robe flutter.

“A bit of righteousness, a thousand miles of fast wind!”

The Sword Qi advanced with the wind and the ink-colored airflow. Its course was irresistible, creating a path by force, with blood splashing everywhere!

It was as if Lu Xun held an invisible brush, on this cosmic rice paper, he left an ink mark…

Write down a “One”.

…

…

As time passed by, the situation outside of Sword Casting City began to lean towards one side.

Smelling the sharp and pungent smell of blood in the air, everyone shared a single thought– We’ve won!

The battle outside Sword Casting City was full of dangerous situations.

What was supposed to be a desperate situation suddenly changed due to the variable of Lu Xun, who dramatically turned the tide.

This young man, with just one man and one sword, saved this large city of the West State!

Ye Sui’an, on behalf of all the Sword Cultivators of West State, bowed deeply to Lu Xun, saying, “On behalf of Sword Casting City, Ye Sui’an thanks Elder Lu.”

Lu Xun calmly accepted, raising his hand, “No need for formalities.”

He looked around and saw many old men.

They met Lu Xun’s gaze, holding their swords in both hands, saluting him.

Lu Xun returned each one of their salutes.

He had never thought that one day he would fight side by side with so many elders.

The charm and courage of Sword Cultivators didn’t seem to fade with time.

Lu Xun sat atop the paper crane and glanced down.

The battlefield was in the air, and at this moment, below, outside Sword Casting City, there lay one body after another.

There were foreigners, and there were Sword Cultivators from the West State.

Those white-haired elders, outside of Sword Casting City, finally shut their eyes forever.

For those survivors in the battlefield, there was still a draining task left to perform.

That was to clean up the battlefield.

Everyone was gathered outside of Sword Casting City, on the blood-soaked land. Their faces were somber, and no one spoke a word.

If you listened closely, you could actually hear suppressed sobs.

It was hard to imagine the scene of a group of elders kneeling hopelessly beside their friends’ corpses.

Those lying on the ground were white-haired and aged, and so were those kneeling.

They were all old folks who had lived for many years. Yet time hadn’t taught them to be ruthless or indifferent but rather made them suffer more with every farewell.

…

…

Dawn broke, and the night was over.

Inside Sword Casting City, some people returned home, but some didn’t.

At the blacksmith’s shop in the west of the city, a robust man with bare upper body was forcefully swinging his hammer.

The hammer hit the unformed blade, the sound was rhythematic, but his movements were somewhat numb.

If it were in the past, an one-armed old man named Chu Beidan would have commenced cursing, but now, no cursing words were heard despite the man making mistakes again and again.

He was carrying a wooden plaque around his waist, the Elder’s Order from Ten Thousand Sword Mountain. He could take this plaque to Ten Thousand Sword Mountain and be accepted as a Disciple.

He would have a new master to guide him, and he could become the long desired Sword Cultivator.

“Clang——!” The hammer heavily hit the blade, the strong man had bloodshot eyes and was panting heavily.

Suddenly, he felt something lightened around his waist.

The slightly heavy wooden plaque had disappeared unexpectedly.

The strong man turned around hastily, only to see a familiar one-armed silhouette outside the blacksmith’s shop.

“Useless piece of crap, disappointed huh? Can’t take it to Ten Thousand Sword Mountain to pay respects to a new master now.” The familiar hoarse voice echoed in the blacksmith’s shop.

The one-armed old man looked at the strong man with his hands on the table, sobbing with his mouth open, speechless, his eyes getting unusually gentle.

“Humph! I’ll teach you personally from now on.”

…

…

In a small yard to the east of Sword Casting City.

A voluptuous woman was holding a bouquet of wild flowers, counting the petals again and again.

The count differed every time because her mind was disturbed and restless.

“Swoosh——”

A flash of Sword light appeared abruptly. A man in a white shirt, blind in one eye and with his white hair wavy, appeared in the yard.

He was smeared with blood. He was already not elegant, and now he looked even worse.

“Clatter——” The wild flowers in the woman’s hand fell to the ground.

The man slowly moved forward, just like when he left. He knelt down and began to pick up the scattered flowers. His eyes were gentle.

While picking, he softly spoke: “Yun Niang, I scared you, didn’t I?”

The woman did not reply.

The man was a bit flustered, he continued to pick up the flowers, and searched for a topic to talk about: “What have you been doing while I was gone?”

This time, the woman answered him.

She was choking with sobs, tears falling like rain, only her tone was as harsh as ever:

“What else can I do? Waiting for you to get your ass back home!”

…

…

In the alleyways of Sword Casting City, a hunchbacked old man arrived at a wooden door.

Compared to when he left, his back seemed more hunched now.

The old man raised his right hand, gently wiped off the Sword Mark on the wooden door, and prepared to push the door open.

Just before pushing open the door, he paused, withdrew his hands, and hurriedly walked towards the end of the alley.

“Oh my! I forgot to get the sugar-coated hawthorns I promised Ya Ya, I wonder if the vendor is still there.”

The old man hunchbacked, walked hastily, and started looking for the sugar-coated hawthorns all over the street.

…

…

At this moment, there were frequent flashes across the sky over West State.

West State was the land of Sword Cultivators, not only the two major Sword Sects, each Sword Cultivator’s Sect had their own Sword Tomb.

After a Sword Cultivator died, their Sword Spirits would maneuver their Flying Swords back to their respective Sword Tombs, following the magic they set on the swords.

The flashes in the sky were numerous Flying Swords.

Some rose from West State, some came from outside West State.

Such a sight could be seen from everywhere in West State, if one raised their head.

…

Return of the swords to West State.