M49S Vol 1. Chapter 15. Ten Thousand Swords Return To One

Xiao Yu’er once asked his master what to do if he accidentally let a secret slip.

His master had said that everyone has secrets. Secrets exist to be exposed. So if you want to survive after losing your own, you’d better know someone else’s in return. The smarter a person thinks they are, the more likely they are to be trapped by that very secret.

His master’s way of threatening people was never elegant. He usually stabbed you first, then explained why. And his version of why made no sense at all.

Xiao Yu’er appeared from the forest with his bow slung over his back. The moment he saw the color drain from Jiang Xie’s face, he knew his master’s method had worked again.

As they made their way down the mountain from the collapsed cave, Xiao Yu’er asked, “Master, are you sure Jiang Xie won’t spill the secret? He looked like he really hates you.”

His master replied, “Not necessarily.”

Meng Qiqi still wasn’t sure how deep the Wang clan’s partnership with Beidou Sect ran. Seeing the puzzled look on his little disciple’s face, he added, “Even Wang Ziling treads on thin ice inside his own clan. No matter how close Beidou and the Wangs are, Jiang Xie will have to think twice. All we need is a little time. Just enough to keep Wang Jing, that old bastard, from ruining my plans. Once I’ve succeeded, if he dares cause trouble, I’ll show my identity and have your senior brother kill him for me.”

“Wow, Master, is Senior Brother really that strong?”

“Of course. If you ever get into a fight you can’t win, just go find your senior brother.”

“Okay!”

“Don’t worry. Your senior brother listens to me.”

“Master, you’re amazing!”

Meng Qiqi accepted his little disciple’s praise calmly, neither blushing nor skipping a beat. Just then, the sounds of battle came faintly from up ahead. The cultivators must have realized there were beasts behind them and had turned back to fight.

“Come on. We’ll take a detour.” Meng Qiqi led Xiao Yu’er down an unguarded path. As they dashed through the forest, master and disciple spoke quickly, wasting not a second.

“Xiao Yu’er, did you see Wang Ziqian on your way in?”

“He was down below fighting beasts too, but the people around him were guarding him real tight,” Xiao Yu’er replied at once. He was young, but sharp. “He wanted to follow Senior Brother at first, but the senior sister and the others didn’t take him along. Plus, Senior Brother was way too fast. Whoosh whoosh whoosh, and he was already way up front.”

“Xiao Yu’er, remember what I told you,” Meng Qiqi reminded him. “Anyone who tries to get close to your Senior Brother, drive them off. Got it?”

“I got it, Master!” Xiao Yu’er obeyed.

Meng Qiqi liked that about Xiao Yu’er. The boy could hand him a blade or guard his food, all without fuss.

Suddenly, a sharp screech echoed overhead. Meng Qiqi looked up and saw several winged beasts sweeping past.

“Xiao Yu’er, bow.” Meng Qiqi extended a hand. The winged beasts were too far, and Xiao Yu’er didn’t have the arm strength to reach them.

With the bow in hand, Meng Qiqi shot up into the treetops. One of the beasts passed low overhead, the wind from its wings whipping his black hair into a wild tangle. His sharp gaze flicked through the air. In a single glance, he took in the entire sky. Then he kicked off, his whole body slicing through the canopy like wind, descending fast.

Meng Qiqi ran among the trees above, while Xiao Yu’er sprinted below.

The winged beast saw him and came diving down, massive wings flapping as it opened its jaws and unleashed a blast of breath. Meng Qiqi flipped backward and landed lightly on another tree. At the same moment, he pulled the bowstring, nocked the arrow, and shot.

The iron arrow, infused with qi, shot straight into the beast’s open mouth and pierced through its skull.

But Meng Qiqi didn’t stop. Three more arrows followed in quick succession.

In the air nearby, Tu Youqiong happened to be flying past on his sword. Ahead of him, several winged beasts had gathered. He was just wondering how he would get through when three iron arrows shot through the sky and brought down three of the beasts in an instant.

The remaining two panicked, and Tu Youqiong seized the opening. Forming a sword seal with his hand, he slipped through the gap and flew past them. He turned to look for the swordsman who had saved him with those three arrows, but saw no one.

Tu Youqiong felt a twinge of regret, but he knew this wasn’t the time for thanks. The valley was close. Spotting his senior brother and senior sister amid the flurry of blades and sword light, he dove straight down.

“Senior Brother, I’m back!”

His voice rang loud and clear. Even with the beasts howling like waves crashing, Chen Boyan heard it at once. He was nearly at the mouth of the valley, where resistance from the beasts had grown fiercer. That shout from his junior brother pulled much of their attention away.

Chen Boyan immediately swung his sword, pushing forward several more steps.

But the force of the strike was too strong. Tu Youqiong had just landed and sheathed his sword, but the blast of qi still hit him. He stumbled back a few steps before managing to steady himself.

Dai Xiaoshan rushed up behind him and teased, “Junior Brother, what, are you drunk?”

“I didn’t drink anything!” Tu Youqiong shot back, making a face at Dai Xiaoshan without a trace of respect. Then he sprinted over to Chen Boyan and quickly reported Wang Zi’an’s plan.

Chen Boyan frowned. “How many people does he have?”

“Twenty-eight. Oh, and Junior Brother Xiao Xiao is with them too.”

“Not enough.” Chen Boyan took a step forward, eyes fixed on the beast horde being driven steadily toward the valley. His voice was firm. “If I borrow the swords of the others and use Ten Thousand Swords Return to One, the beasts will fall into chaos. There are at least two hundred cultivators still on the mountain. The beasts won’t be foolish enough to charge uphill again. But Wang Zi’an only has twenty-eight people.”

“Ten Thousand Swords Return to One?” Tu Youqiong’s little spark of pride at delivering the message was immediately doused. He hesitated. “But Brother Wang is smart. If they can’t hold them off, he’d probably retreat in time, right?”

Wang Ziling came up behind them, panting, just in time to catch the conversation. “What about my cousin?”

Tu Youqiong opened his mouth to reply, but Chen Boyan cut in. “Go bring the decision-makers from each sect. And bring Wang Ziqian.”

Chen Boyan recalled what Meng Qiqi had passed on through Shen Qingya. He had told him to keep an eye on Wang Zi’an. But why? Was it because Wang Zi’an was Grand Elder Wang Jing’s grandson?

Whatever the reason, Chen Boyan’s loyalties lay with his own Little Martial Uncle.

It didn’t take long for Xu Mengyin, Master Yinian, Shen Qingya, and the others to gather. Even Jiang Xie appeared, with a dark expression and saying nothing.

Wang Ziqian was the last to arrive, brought in by Mu Guinian. Mu Guinian was as expressionless as ever and gave him no special treatment. Wang Ziqian’s face had gone pale, as if he might faint at any moment.

Before he could even catch his breath, Chen Boyan laid out Wang Zi’an’s plan. Wang Ziqian frowned deeply.

“My cousin’s decision is too reckless.”

Seeing how pale he looked, Xu Mengyin stepped over and helped him steady his breath. “If they all have the means to protect themselves, it could still work. What do you think, Brother Chen?”

“It might be better to send someone with a message and warn them of the situation,” Shen Qingya offered.

Wang Ziqian coughed and was just about to speak when Wang Ziling, who had been watching him closely, cut in at once.

“Fine. Let someone from the Wang clan go.”

Wang Ziqian’s eyes darkened, but he could not object. The matter had been led by the Wang clan to begin with. If he opposed it now, it would only bring resentment.

Still, Wang Zi’an’s actions left a small thorn in his heart, one that he could not remove.

The Wang clan was too large, too chaotic. Between the main branch and all the side branches, there were countless descendants, each eager to rise. The official heir was an idiot who couldn’t keep anyone in line. And even though he was the clan head’s son, Wang Ziqian’s status was not the highest.

His father had only risen to power with the support of the Elders. If Wang Ziqian wanted to take that position someday, he would inevitably have to go through that stiff, immovable Grand Elder, and that ever-perfect older cousin of his.

The more he thought about it, the deeper the thorn lodged itself in his heart.

But when Xu Mengyin offered him a pill with a gentle look, Wang Ziqian had already composed himself. He lifted his head with a sheepish smile.

“Thank you, Senior Sister.”

At that moment, the rest of the cultivators were still fighting the beasts. The situation remained tense. There was no time to linger. Once the decision was made, everyone dispersed.

Shen Qingya stayed behind just long enough to clasp hands with Chen Boyan in farewell.

It was now the third quarter of the third watch. Dawn was near.

“Junior Sister Song, go with Youqiong and run back once more. Keep an eye on Xiao Xiao,” Chen Boyan said, leaving this last instruction behind before his figure blurred under the moonlight and plunged once again into the beast horde.

For the First Senior Brother of Gushan Sword, before dawn meant before dawn. Not a moment more.

As the senior disciples returned to the battlefield, the tide of blades and swords surged with new fury.

More and more beasts let out furious growls as they were driven back toward the valley. Though panting with exhaustion, the cultivators dared not let up. They pressed forward without pause.

By the time Meng Qiqi and Xiao Yu’er arrived, the first rays of dawn had crossed ten thousand miles to reach the valley, casting it in golden light.

In that instant, the sound of sharp, collective inhalation rose across the battlefield.

---

Maybe it was the heat of battle. Through the night, the cultivators had simply kept killing, never stopping to look. The thick darkness had hidden the true face of the battlefield. Only now, as the first light of dawn pushed away the night, did the slope reveal itself. Torn limbs and scattered remains covered the ground, gruesome and raw.

“Amitabha.” Master Yinian raised one palm before him. The Bodhi beads circling around his body had yet to settle. Even though the beasts had retreated into the valley, they refused to give up any chance to strike back. The battle was far from over.

Xu Mengyin was the first to charge. Her mud-streaked, bloodstained robes swept past the others’ line of sight. A single cold, decisive shout “Kill!”, and the graceful female cultivator vanished into the fray.

The beasts had been driven into the valley. But they could sense what was coming. They grew restless, crashing and charging with reckless force.

There were thousands of them, more than anyone could count. What kind of force would a counterattack like that unleash?

“Urgh!” A Beidou disciple, overwhelmed and off balance, was struck by a furious beast and spat blood. Jiang Xie rushed to his aid, plugging the breach as sweat dripped onto the edge of his sword.

“Brother Chen!” Wang Ziqian, still being guarded by several others, cried out.

Jiang Xie turned just in time to see that familiar sky-blue figure appear above the valley.

Mu Guinian, Dai Xiaoshan, and Qing Gu all stared upward, tense and hopeful.

But Chen Boyan had no time to respond to any voice or gaze.

He closed his eyes and ran two fingers down the length of his sword. Wuwang responded to his call with a clear hum. The silvery light followed the path of his fingers, as pale as frost, as calm as moonlight, like the scar between his brows.

In this moment, Chen Boyan was the sword. The truest, most spirit-bound sword in the world.

He was about to strike. Amid the mist and blood, beneath the breaking sky, before the storm returned.

Wuwang drew a circle of light, its hum rising.

Chen Boyan opened his eyes. They were deep, clear, and void of all feeling.

Dai Xiaoshan sensed it first. Something about his senior brother felt completely changed. Just as that worry took hold, the sword in his hand began to tremble.

Not just his. Every cultivator present who held a sword felt it. The blades were quivering, humming, resonating.

Countless swords had begun to turn, all pointing toward Chen Boyan high in the air. The humming carried something like joy, as if they could no longer wait to break free from their masters’ hands and fly toward the open sky.

But in that joy, there was also fear. They feared the sword that was calling them. And yet they could not help but want to submit.

Many cultivators had never experienced this before. Their life-bound swords were refusing to obey. They tightened their grip, but the trembling only grew stronger and the humming clearer.

The disciples of Gushan Sword, Dai Xiaoshan among them, were the first to release control. Several longswords immediately tore through the sky and flew toward Chen Boyan.

One followed another. Then another. Xu Mengyin and Shen Qingya released their swords next. Jiang Xie gritted his teeth and let go of his own. In an instant, swords of every shape and color streaked across the sky from all directions, converging around Chen Boyan in a sight both overwhelming and magnificent.

A ripple passed through Wang Ziqian’s gaze.

Ten Thousand Swords Return to One. This was it.

No wonder Chen Boyan, despite being born of the Chen family, had chosen to join Gushan Sword. This technique might as well have been created for him. Even Gushan’s previous Little Martial Uncle, Zhou Ziheng, could not have executed it to this degree.

“Senior Brother, look out!”

Suddenly, a cry rang out like thunder.

The splendor of Ten Thousand Swords Return to One left the cultivators in awe, and filled the beasts with overwhelming fear. Waves of furious howls crashed upward like the tide, all directed at Chen Boyan. The winged beasts in the air went mad and dove straight toward him.

At that critical moment, an iron arrow tore through the sky.

Meng Qiqi appeared atop a massive tree at the mouth of the valley, longbow in hand. He fired one arrow after another in rapid succession. Winged beasts dropped from the sky, twitching midair as blood streaked behind them.

Tu Youqiong’s eyes lit up. That was the swordsman who had saved him earlier.

“What are you staring at? Lost your will to fight just because your life-bound sword’s gone?” Xu Mengyin’s sharp shout snapped the cultivators out of their daze. So what if they had lost their swords? They could still fight.

At that moment, Chen Boyan finally made his next move.

Controlling so many swords at once, even with his extraordinary talent, had cost him greatly. It had taken time. Now he raised his own sword. As the tip lifted, the hundreds of swords circling him all turned in unison, every blade aimed toward the beasts below.

“Go.”

With that quiet command, Chen Boyan brought Wuwang down.

Ten thousand swords rang out.

Countless blades shot forward like streams of light, cutting through the first rays of morning sun that had just spilled into the valley. They rained down upon the dark mass of beasts below in a sweeping, shining storm of steel.

The first drops of that sword-rain hit the valley floor and splashed up mud, red with blood.

But the storm did not end. Wave after wave fell. The silvery blades harvested the beasts without mercy. It was ruthless. And magnificent.

The beasts went fully berserk. They trampled their own dead, charged in every direction, desperate to escape.

But the cultivators were ready. Master Yinian, whose weapon was a string of Bodhi beads, held the front. Xu Mengyin and the others drew spare swords and joined in from both sides.

At the valley mouth, Wang Zi’an and nearly thirty cultivators gave everything they had, blocking the beasts’ escape and forcing them to stay within the reach of Ten Thousand Swords Return to One.

At the valley mouth, Meng Qiqi sent Chen Boyan a distant look of admiration. After feasting his eyes, his gaze slid toward the direction where the Wang family elders might be hiding. His expression turned cold. He drew his ring-hilted saber and slipped into the forest shadows.

The Wang clan’s messenger had yet to arrive, but Tu Youqiong and Song Ru had already rendezvoused with Wang Zi’an. Song Ru’s cultivation might not match Chen Boyan’s, but she was far from weak. With Gushan’s senior sister at his side, Wang Zi’an finally let out a breath of relief.

They were only twenty-some people. The fighting had been grueling. The beasts’ frenzy far exceeded expectations, likely triggered by Ten Thousand Swords Return to One.

Wang Zi’an looked up. It seemed like the rain was about to fall again.

But the Vault of Ten Thousand Swords still had not yet appeared. If they retreated now, everything would be for nothing.

“Just hold on a little longer!” Wang Zi’an grit his teeth and quickly swallowed a Rejuvenation Pill. He dared not hold anything back. The others, seeing his determination, were swept up in it. No one turned away.

For a moment, the beasts’ momentum visibly slowed. These mere thirty cultivators had blocked the valley entrance.

The group rejoiced.

Zhao Xing and the others who had followed Wang Zi’an from the start felt their blood boil. Their swords blazed with spiritual light, and their strikes grew even fiercer than before.

“Hold the line!” Wang Zi’an’s arm was wounded, half his body soaked in blood, but he still led the charge at the very front. He gritted his teeth and retrieved a bronze plate the size of a small porcelain bowl from his spatial ring. As spiritual power surged into the plate, a formless barrier unfurled in front of him, holding off the increasingly vicious onslaught of the beasts.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Countless beasts rammed into the barrier. They cracked skulls and split flesh, but none turned back. The bronze plate trembled endlessly. No one knew how much longer it would last.

Wang Zi’an’s eyes darkened, but he clenched his teeth and held firm.

He couldn’t retreat. Not yet. He could still endure.

At last, Heaven favored the persistent. Under the relentless downpour of sword rain from Ten Thousand Swords Return to One, golden light finally broke through the thunderclouds above.

“The Vault of Ten Thousand Swords!” Wang Ziqian cried out in excitement. Every cultivator momentarily halted, their gazes lifting as boundless desire and exhilaration flickered in their eyes.

The Vault of Ten Thousand Swords had not revealed itself in decades. And they had done it.

A storm of joy swept through the valley as, true to its promise, the golden clouds began to spit out glowing orbs, large and small.

In that instant, no one cared about the beasts anymore. Everyone rushed toward the orbs, scrambling to seize the treasures. Even Chen Boyan had withdrawn his sword, and released control over the other blades.

But just then, as all eyes were fixed on the prizes and none to spare for anything else, Xiao Xiao, who had remained by Wang Zi’an’s side, suddenly moved. With a single palm strike, he slammed into Wang Zi’an’s hand.

Wang Zi’an lost his grip. The bronze disc flew from his hand and landed squarely in the palm of Meng Qiqi, who had stepped out from the treeline.