Chapter 17
Time flowed like sand through fingers.
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In the blink of an eye, it was the evening of the third day.
As the last bell of the day rang, students rushed out of the study halls.
Fang Lang, Ni Wen, and Yang Zhengyi left the study hall and headed for the practice grounds.
Yang Zhengyi flipped his fringe and said, “Lang’zi, I’m rooting for you! I’m sitting out on the entertainment house today just to stay here and give you moral support. Do your best and get into the top three!”
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Ni Wen followed the two boys in silence like a soundless shadow. She was not the type who wanted attention.
She was surprised when she heard Fang Lang was joining the Gathering of Swords.
After some hesitation, Ni Wen cheered, “Fang Lang… Good luck!”
The encouragement surprised Fang Lang. He gave the girl a warm smile and patted her head before stepping onto the practice grounds.
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As the sun set, Yang Zhengyi and Ni Wen watched Fang Lang walk away.
The sunset was dazzling but the fire in Fang Lang burned brighter. They watched the boy grip his sword—he looked like he was ready to tear a hole through the night sky.
…
Mentor Wen was early.
He was dressed in an elegant white robe with a sword box on his back. His sword was secured within. The messy beard had been shaved off and he looked more alert than he ever did—his aura came to a boil.
The Scholarly Sword Master was back.
Fang Lang was taken aback by Mentor Wen’s appearance.
On the other hand, Jiang Linglong barely lifted her eyebrows at the transformation. She was well aware of Mentor Wen Ting’s background and his past relationship with the Sword Guild.
The Scholarly Sword Master was attending an event hosted by the Sword Guild. He would not want to appear weak in any way.
All three students were set and ready to depart with Mentor Wen.
The Gathering of Swords was held at the Sword Guild’s sanctum.
This was Wen Ting’s first time leading the team. Previously, he only participated in the intensive training. However, this year, Headmaster Cui had personally ordered him to lead the team. It was not said but Wen Ting knew he was the protection detail for Jiang Pei.
“Let us not embarrass Luojiang Academy in the Gathering of Swords. This year, the Sword Guild has invited 200 academies. Luojiang Academy is in the top 50 academies so I expect you to survive at least until the second stage,” Mentor Wen said matter-of-factly.
There was no leniency in his tone.
This was his first return to the Sword Guild and he wanted to avoid embarrassment. Many from the Sword Guild knew him or knew of him.
Besides, after three days of intensive training, he had faith in the team’s ability to last till the second stage.
Once the motivation speech was over, Mentor Wen raised his hand. The black space ring with a lotus flower carving glimmered on his finger. It was a premium space ring from the Jade Pavilion that likely cost a fortune.
A humming sound.
A bright flash.
Space rippled and a flight sword appeared above the space ring. It floated in the air of the practice grounds.
Fang Lang and Liu Bubai were mesmerized by the item.
A flight sword!
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It was the dream of every cultivator.
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“That’s a Trident model made by the Sky Cloud Sect. It’s detailed with runes researched by fourth-class spell masters. At maximum power, the flight sword can travel 1,500 miles per hour. The flight sword consumes ten low-grade spirit crystals for two hours of operation,” Liu Bubai rambled on as he stared intently at the flight sword floating in the air. A shiver passed his body.
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The words were a load of gibberish to Fang Lang but it sounded impressive.
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Liu Bubai’s enthusiasm for the flight sword reminded Fang Lang of the car enthusiasts from his past life.
Mentor Wen glanced at Liu Bubai. “You know your stuff. You like flight swords? Do you have a Flying Sword Examination pass?”
Liu Bubai nodded. “I do! I went to the imperial courts and got mine last year.”
A smile graced Mentor Wen’s lips. “If you successfully rank in the top three for the Gathering of Swords, I will lend you my flight sword for two hours.”
Liu Bubai’s breathing picked up and the fire in his eyes burned like a star.
Fang Lang covered his gaping mouth while Jiang Linglong remained expressionless.
Mentor Wen smiled and produced his Flying Sword Examination pass. He stepped onto the flight sword and inserted the pass into the slot at the guard.
Hum.
Spiritual energy emanated from the flight sword as it grew in size to accommodate four passengers.
Liu Bubai and Jiang Linglong stepped onto the flight sword with ease and sat down.
Fang Lang gingerly took a seat on the odd transport. A circular rune appeared on his body—protection against the air pressure and piercing sounds.
“Sit tight, we’re departing.”
Mentor Wen stood at sword grip.
At the end of his sentence, a high-purity spirit crystal appeared in his hand. It was a mid-grade spirit crystal, equivalent to 100 low-grade spirit crystals.
The mid-grade spirit crystal was fed into the opening at the sword guard. The fuel activated the runes on the flight sword.
The humming was louder.
The burst of energy disturbed the surrounding air.
A circular rune bloomed from the sword guard and began spinning at the sword tip.
The flight sword stabbed through the rune.
The rune continued to spin and the sound of spinning cogs could be heard.
The flight sword made a cry and levitated.
Spiritual energy was expelled from the rune.
The flight sword pierced through the sky.
The departure was signaled by an ear-splitting roar as the sword took flight like a majestic bird, shooting across the sky.
A multicolored flash tore through the sunset in the horizon.
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…
In the realm of the Tang Dynasty, the Sword Guild sat within Mount Shu.
The lofty mountain rose steeply above ground like an emerging sword, towering over the plains.
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Palaces and towers glittered on the mountain peak, akin to a sword tip reflecting light. The heart of civilization was thrust into the clouds.
The sophisticated flight sword hummed as the rune spun. Eardrums reverberated with the sword’s operation.
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Atop the flight sword, Fang Lang, Liu Bubai and Jiang Linglong gazed upon the majestic and mystical city that sat among the heavens.
This was where the Sword Guild laid—the venue of the Gathering of Swords.
“The Sword Guild is the largest sect in the Tang Dynasty that caters to sword mastery. They rank in the top ten sects and only take in ten talented disciples from each Imperial Examination,” Mentor Wen said.
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He guided the flight sword through the clouds and toward the plaza on Mount Shu’s peak.
They were not the only ones riding in. Around them, a multitude of flight swords zoomed past. They landed on the plaza.
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Blade energy rumbled as the flight swords descended. Gradually, the roaring of the runes simmered down. These were the participants gathered from academies all across the Tang Dynasty and everyone flew in on flight swords.
Fang Lang’s body trembled with adrenaline as he sat on the flight sword.
This was not the Imperial Examination but the opportunity to cross swords with talents from the realm excited Fang Lang.
“Get down,” Mentor Wen said with a smile.
The trio hopped down and Mentor Wen put away the sophisticated flight sword.
As they disembarked, a gallant woman with a sword box on her back strode over.
“Are you guys from Luojiang Academy? Come with me. You guys get to rest tonight, the competition starts tomorrow.”
The woman spoke perfunctorily. When she noticed Mentor Wen, her expression hardened.
The students felt the coldness of the woman’s gaze.
“What are you guys looking at? She’s just an old acquaintance. We made a pact to stay in the Sword Guild years ago. Unfortunately…” Mentor Wen said in a bittersweet tone as he took a trip down memory lane.
The gallant woman who was leading the way turned around and gave Mentor Wen a death glare. “Wen Ting, you lied to me then and you dare speak of the past? I’ll stab you.”
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Mentor Wen gave the woman a sheepish smile. “Huang Ying, you wouldn’t.”
Mentor Wen was right in his assessment.
The Sword Guild member, Huang Ying, showed her displeasure. She almost drew her blade at Mentor Wen.
Quickly, she brought the group to the temporary residence. Although she radiated an unfriendly aura, she still helped with checking in.
Fang Lang took the room token and searched for his accommodation. As he was opening the door, the next-door neighbor came out.
A tall, slender and handsome boy leaned against the doorframe. He studied Fang Lang silently.
“Which academy are you from?” the neighbor asked.
Fang Lang smiled gently and said, “Luojiang Academy.”
The boy raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Beijiang Academy, Song Qingyun, ninth-grade sword disciple.”
‘He’s revealing his grade?’
Fang Lang spent a moment thinking, then said, “Luojiang Academy, Fang Lang, sixth-grade sword disciple.”
“Huh? Sixth grade?”
Song Qingyun frowned and the interest in his eyes dimmed.
He figured the sixth-grade sword disciple was likely sent here as a filler.
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Of course, Song Qingyun kept the thought to himself. With an impassive expression, he bid the other boy goodbye and went back into his room, all interest lost.
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