"Your shoulder is shaking!"

"Your leg is shaking!"

"Your whole body is shaking!"

Three flying swords, four flying swords,

five, six, seven...

Luo Qingyao continuously summoned more flying swords. As a Great Sword Immortal, a top swordsman, her flying swords were not only numerous but also brilliantly combined with different Sword Intents. Each of her flying swords seemed to have its own soul and life, perfectly cooperating with her. They could understand what Sword Intent she would use next and what Sword Technique she would wield without her even needing to issue commands.

The space the man could dodge was getting smaller and smaller. It was clear that he was no longer as sharp, and each dodge was less perfect.

Luo Qingyao had controlled the initiative of the battlefield from the very beginning.

She was constantly attacking, while the man was always responding.

But her moves were ever-changing, endless.

Twenty-four flying swords, twenty-four kinds of Sword Intent, and countless Sword Techniques, how many combinations could they form?

"Is dodging all you can do!" Luo Qingyao’s voice was terse, crisp, and forceful.

The man suddenly stopped, with the broken grass in his hand pointing straight at her,

"Are you done summoning your flying swords? Twenty-four, right."

Twenty-four flying swords were positioned in twenty-four directions, entirely locking the man in, restricting all his dodging space.

"Dodging is the least of choices. Do you not even have the courage to face me directly?" Luo Qingyao questioned.

The man suddenly smiled,

"I was waiting for you to summon all your flying swords. Now I will make you understand how weak your swords are."

With that, dense lines of blood swiftly spread over his entire body, and then a pressure suddenly erupted, enveloping all of Luo Qingyao’s flying swords.

In that instant, Luo Qingyao’s Purple Mansion trembled.

She felt like she was in a lucid dream, aware that it was false, yet powerless to change it.

Then, her twenty-four flying swords, Lifebound Flying Swords, born from her will and cultivated with care, were controlled by the man opposite her in the blink of an eye.

No, not just controlled. They were taken.

Luo Qingyao’s pupils contracted to a point, incredulously watching the flying swords in the air, completely out of her control,

"What’s wrong with you all! Come back! Return to me!"

But no matter how she commanded, the flying swords did not respond.

Then she saw the man opposite her arranging the twenty-four flying swords neatly behind him as if he were arranging troops.

The man smiled and said,

"I told you, your swords are incredibly weak."

Now, Luo Qingyao cautiously held the long sword in her hand. This man not only took her flying swords but did so without harming her soul, severing her connection with the swords.

This, for a swordsman, was a tremendous humiliation.

"Is a swordsman who can’t even protect their own swords truly a swordsman?" the man asked.

Luo Qingyao’s chest involuntarily heaved violently. She tried hard to remain calm, kept telling herself not to panic, not to fear! But her efforts to soothe her heart were futile. A swordsman without a sword was like a normal person suddenly losing their eyes; it meant losing the world.

"You’ve lost."

"No..." she murmured,

"No what?" the man asked.

Luo Qingyao stretched her neck to look at him, like grabbing onto a lifeline,

"I haven’t lost, and you haven’t won."

"You don’t even have a sword."

Luo Qingyao said, "I admit, you are stronger than I am. But you didn’t defeat me with a sword! You defeated my cultivation, my power, not my sword! You still cannot deny my honor as a swordsman!"

"Honor? What do you consider honor?"

"A swordsman’s honor is mastery over the sword, refinement of Sword Intent, and the study of Sword Technique! Yet, from start to finish, you did not wield a single sword. You just overwhelmed me with your vastly superior cultivation," Luo Qingyao’s eyes focused only on the sword, "You must defeat me with the sword!"

The man looked at her quietly, then shook his head and said,

"How ugly. Luo Qingyao, you are so ugly now. You refuse to admit your defeat, refuse to face your weakness. You are just deceiving yourself. You desperately display your strong side to the outside world to cover up the weakness inside. You are self-righteous; you have no soul of your own, no direction of your own. You live for others, you live for the sword, but you have never lived for yourself."

Luo Qingyao gritted her teeth, looking at the man.

The man returned the twenty-four flying swords to her, then gradually suppressed his cultivation to the Mahayana level.

Then, he looked at her indifferently,

"You are a Tribulation Immortal. And now, with Mahayana Stage cultivation, I will face you directly."

He held a long sword formed from the broken grass he picked up from the ground,

"Come on."

Luo Qingyao once again felt her twenty-four flying swords and faced the man before her again.

This was a genuine Sword Dao duel, without any so-called body technique dodging, nor overwhelming cultivation suppression.

However,

Luo Qingyao felt a tinge of fear in her heart.

She knew that in this duel, she would have to risk everything.

What if she failed?

She dared not imagine the consequences of failure, for it would mean the man’s evaluation of her was true. She dared not imagine being a self-righteous and self-deceiving existence. That was just... too ugly!

"Come on!" the man’s voice suddenly grew louder.

Luo Qingyao’s shoulder trembled in fright, then she put aside all distractions, focusing all her mind and spirit on the sword.