Fox Spirit: One Sword Sweeps the World

Page 77

The next second, everyone in the room felt a flash of light before their eyes, and then an extremely powerful surge of magical energy rose around them. In the blink of an eye, they landed steadily on the open ground outside the classroom.

The snow had stopped for a while, and the bluestone paving stones of the training ground felt icy cold to the touch. The buildings in the distance and the clouds on the horizon were clearly visible, but the students who had just been in the classroom had not noticed even the slightest movement.

A wave of shock washed over everyone, and they all gasped in astonishment.

Such a seemingly effortless transfer technique is simply astonishing!

Mu Qinghan didn't give them much time to marvel.

With his left hand behind his back and his right hand raised to his chest, a clear sword cry pierced the sky the moment his fingertips moved slightly.

Everyone only saw a flash of cold light before their eyes, and a long sword, entirely silver-white, was already drawn from its sheath and hovering in his palm.

The radiance flowing across the sword was even more dazzling than the sunlight on the horizon.

Immediately afterwards, an eerie silence descended.

Everyone's hearing seemed to be instantly stripped away; the sound of the wind, breathing, and even their own heartbeats vanished without a trace.

As far as the eye could see, the once clear training ground, buildings, and flowing clouds were all swallowed up by a pure white expanse.

The white expanse stretched endlessly, without beginning or end. Even the classmates beside me had vanished, leaving only myself and the figure in the moon-white robe ahead.

A deep hum came from the sky, not by sound, but directly resounding in the sea of ​​consciousness.

Everyone instinctively looked up, their pupils suddenly contracting.

Above the boundless white sky, a giant sword was slowly appearing.

The sword was thousands of meters long, its blade so sharp it seemed capable of cleaving the heavens and earth. Visible magical patterns swirled around its surface, and as it descended, an immense pressure crashed down like Mount Tai.

The oppressive aura was terrifying, as if it were about to crush one's soul.

Everyone's legs went weak, and they instinctively wanted to turn around and run away, but their bodies seemed to be nailed to the spot, unable to even move their fingertips.

They could only watch helplessly as the giant sword, with its earth-shattering aura, plummeted at an ever-increasing speed, the cold light reflected from its blade so close that it could illuminate their despairing faces.

"Ahhhh——!"

Fear finally overwhelmed reason, and most people could no longer hold back, letting out heart-wrenching screams, but their voices were trapped in their throats, turning into silent roars.

Even those with slightly stronger wills had already turned pale, squatted on the ground with their hands covering their heads, and closed their eyes tightly, unable to bear looking at that apocalyptic scene any longer.

Only Butai, under that extreme pressure, neither screamed nor flinched.

She slightly raised her hand, palm facing up, her eyes vacant yet carrying a strange sense of peace.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in her field of vision, in that white world.

He was an extremely strong man, so large that he could block out the entire sky.

He was dressed in coarse cloth shorts, his back ramrod straight, like an unyielding mountain.

He stood quietly in front of her, completely shielding the massive sword, powerful enough to destroy the heavens and the earth, behind him.

There were no unnecessary movements, not a single word, but just looking at his back, Butai's fear vanished, leaving only an indescribable sense of peace.

She doesn't know who he is.

All I remember is that he appeared in my dreams countless times.

In my dreams, it's the same scene. He always stands in front of her, facing a sky full of enemies, just punching and punching!

Each punch carried the power to shatter mountains and split rocks, keeping all dangers at bay, yet he never turned around to let her see his face clearly.

The moment the shadow of the giant sword completely enveloped him, Butai even slightly raised the corners of his lips, revealing a very faint, relieved smile.

But the next second, two lines of clear tears slid down from the corners of her eyes without warning, splashing onto the bluestone floor tiles and leaving a small wet patch.

She raised her hand blankly, wiping away the tears on her face, her heart filled with confusion.

Why...why...

I wasn't afraid at all, but suddenly... I started crying...

Chapter 94 Is this guy really human?

The sound of the sword hummed, initially like the low hum of mosquitoes, but in an instant it transformed into the roar of a dragon, shaking up the fine dust in the cracks of the courtyard's blue bricks.

The terrifying pressure was like Mount Tai pressing down, and although it only lingered for three breaths, everyone felt as if they had endured half a year of winter.

A chill seeped into my very bones, and even my breathing became stiff from the cold.

With a soft "click," Mu Qinghan's sword had silently returned to its sheath, as if the fleeting glimpse of the sword's cry was merely an illusion.

Everyone froze on the spot, their faces ashen, the tremor from the sword's cry still lingering in their pupils.

Someone subconsciously raised their hand to touch their neck, only breathing a sigh of relief when their fingertips touched the warm skin.

Some people staggered back half a step, looked down and repeatedly checked their limbs, even scrutinizing the creases in their clothes, as if afraid that a piece of flesh was missing.

Even worse, some people swallowed hard, only to find their throats so dry and painful that they couldn't even make a sound.

"That was sword intent just now."

Mu Qinghan's voice slowly rang out.

He slowly walked to the middle of the crowd, "using the way of the sword to enter the realm of intent, transforming sword energy into the surrounding grass and trees, and the coming and going breeze, so that without drawing the sword, one can kill the enemy invisibly."

“If I had harbored murderous intent just now, none of you would be alive today.”

Upon hearing this, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd, and everyone's backs were instantly drenched in cold sweat.

Mu Qinghan's gaze swept over everyone, his eyes showing no emotion whatsoever. "When facing anyone who is hostile or threatening to you, you must immediately tense up and remain vigilant like a hungry wolf eyeing its prey."

"At the same time, magical power must circulate rapidly within the body, fingertips gripping the sword, ready to attack or counterattack at any moment—a moment's hesitation could mean the difference between life and death."

He raised his hand and placed it on the hilt of his sword. "Remember, even a lion uses its full strength to hunt a rabbit."

"When facing an enemy, regardless of their strength, you must unleash your strongest killing move immediately."

"At the same time, you must learn to hide your killing moves in ordinary starting stances. What may seem like an ordinary horizontal slash actually conceals a deadly trap formed by sword energy."

He paused here, his tone suddenly becoming more serious.

"This is not despicable, but rather a great wisdom. The enemy will not give you a chance for a 'fair fight'; only by taking them by surprise can you live to see tomorrow's sun."

"So now, I am your enemy, remember that?"

Mu Qinghan's voice remained calm, yet it was like a block of ice thrown into boiling oil, instantly stunning everyone who had just recovered.

Someone subconsciously let out a questioning sigh, their eyes filled with confusion.

How did the teacher who was carefully explaining sword intent just a moment ago suddenly become the "enemy"?

The crowd looked at each other, their faces full of confusion.

Mu Qinghan didn't give them a chance to ask further questions, and didn't even say another word.

The moment he finished speaking, his clothes fluttered slightly, and his figure suddenly turned into a blur, disappearing like wisps of smoke.

The next second, a dull thud suddenly rang out.

No, not one sound, but dozens of dull thuds overlapping, as if someone were simultaneously slamming a heavy hammer into dozens of pieces of wrought iron, making one's eardrums vibrate.

Everyone felt a tremendous force in their abdomens, as if they had been hit by a raging bull. Their bodies were thrown uncontrollably into the air, flying backward and crashing heavily onto the blue brick ground.

Screams rose and fell, and the crowd huddled on the ground, clutching their cramped stomachs and groaning in agony, cold sweat streaming down their foreheads.

Just then, Mu Qinghan's figure quietly appeared among the crowd.

He slightly raised his hand, his fingertips swirling with faint magical power, which flowed slowly into each person's body like a gentle stream.

The warmth traveled along the meridians, instantly relieving the severe abdominal pain, and the stiff bodies of everyone gradually relaxed.

And his voice rang out again, still the same one.

"I am your enemy, remember that?"

This time, there was no doubt, no confusion.

As if struck by lightning, everyone looked up at Mu Qinghan, their pupils instantly igniting with fighting spirit.

Without a second thought, some crushed the talismans in their hands, some drew their swords with a deafening clang, and some even flung out flames from their hands.

The most powerful killing move was unleashed without reservation, heading straight for the person in front of it.

As for being afraid of hurting him?

Don't be shameless.

Among human cultivators today, if he dares to claim second place, no one dares to claim first.

The light blow they received earlier had already caused them unbearable pain. If they held back now and didn't use their full strength, they might be sent back to their deaths with a casual flick of their wrist.

A faint smile appeared on Mu Qinghan's lips.

Facing the raging flames rushing towards him, he only lightly touched forward half a step with his toes, his body gracefully dodging them.

The raging flames, capable of melting gold and severing iron, grazed past his clothes, only to crash helplessly into the stone wall behind him, exploding into a shower of sparks.

The sword light in front of him followed closely, the silvery sword energy condensed into a tangible form, and with a sharp whistle, it went straight for his face.

Mu Qinghan neither dodged nor avoided, but raised his hand and gently tore it as if tearing brocade. The moment his ten fingers swept across the sword light, the killing move that had gathered the disciple's full magical power was torn in two like thin paper. The sword energy dissipated in the air, leaving only a few faint lights.

Before the man could react, he casually flicked his palm forward with a slight downward motion.

The disciple who rushed forward felt an overwhelming force strike his chest, as if he had been hit by a boulder rolling down a mountain. His body was involuntarily lifted into the air, arcing through the air before crashing onto the grass a few feet away.

Immediately afterwards, Mu Qinghan slightly raised his leg and precisely kicked the other person in the back of the knee. The person's leg bones went weak and he was about to kneel down when he was sent flying backward by this skillful force. When he landed, he could only clutch his knee and grimaced.

The sound of wind breaking came from behind him, and Butai clenched his fist and attacked his back with a swift and clean move.

Mu Qinghan seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. As he turned around, he precisely grabbed her wrist and applied slight pressure with his fingertips. Butai felt a numbness in her wrist.

Before she could even gasp, Mu Qinghan lightly tossed her into the air, landing her steadily on the open ground outside the crowd.

All of this happened in the blink of an eye; in the blink of an eye, the siege of thirty people was torn open.

The disciple who unleashed the sword light froze on the spot, his eyes wide open, staring intently at Mu Qinghan's right hand hanging by his side.

That fair hand was clean and slender, as if what he had just torn apart with his bare hands was not his strongest killing move, which he had painstakingly cultivated for three years, but merely a fallen withered leaf.

"Is this...is this really still within the realm of humanity?"

He muttered to himself, his voice filled with disbelief and shock, his teeth chattering slightly.