NCCnovel Chapter 201 I only used 13 of my strength.
Chapter 201 I only used 13 of my strength.
Qin Mu looked at the old man.
He smiled.
"Okay," he said.
He gently tossed the Autumn Water Sword in his hand.
The sword traced a silver arc in the air and landed steadily in front of Liu Bai, its tip pointing downwards and embedding itself three inches into the floor.
The sword trembled slightly, emitting a clear and melodious sword cry, as if it were cheering and jumping for joy.
Liu Bai looked at the sword that had been with him for thirty years, a complex light flashing in his eyes.
He didn't reach out to pull it out.
He simply looked at Qin Mu, slowly untied the sword case from behind his back, and placed it on the ground.
Then he reached out and placed his hand on the sword case.
"I have a sword technique," he said, "that I have practiced for fifty years but have never used."
"Because there is no one worthy of my use."
He looked up and gazed at Qin Mu.
"Today, I'd like to give it a try."
Qin Mu looked at him, a glint of light flashing in his eyes.
It is the excitement of a hunter encountering prey, the appreciation of a chess player meeting an opponent, and the instinctive resonance between strong individuals when they meet.
"Okay," he said.
A single, simple word, yet it carries the same solemnity.
The night wind suddenly stopped for a moment.
The sound of dripping water from the eaves seemed to have disappeared as well.
Between heaven and earth, only two people remained, two pairs of eyes, and the impending explosion—
Sword intent.
Meanwhile, in the lobby downstairs.
The proprietress staggered into the kitchen, her face ashen and her body trembling like a leaf.
"Hurry...hurry..."
She spoke to the stunned waiters, her voice hoarse, "Bring out the best wine... the best food... everything..."
The men looked at each other in bewilderment.
What's wrong with the boss's wife?
Weren't they just fine a moment ago, about to pull off a big heist?
How come now...
The proprietress offered no explanation, nor could she provide one.
All she knew was that in the short span of time it takes to drink a cup of tea, she had experienced the greatest fear, the greatest shock, and the deepest despair of her life.
All she knew was that there were two people standing upstairs at that moment—
One was the Emperor of Qin.
One is Liu Bai, a sword fanatic.
And she, the owner of a shady inn, had just been plotting against the emperor.
The fact that she's still alive is already a miracle.
The proprietress leaned against the stove, panting heavily, tears mingling with rainwater streaming down her cheeks.
She had no idea what was going to happen.
All she knew was that what she had to do now was—
It means preparing the best food and wine.
Then pray.
I pray that those two ancestors, after finishing their wine and food, will just let her go like a fart.
Upstairs, the door to room number one, the "Heavenly" room, quietly opened a crack.
Yunluan's figure darted out from the crack in the door and landed silently in the corridor.
She still held the dark silver rapier in her hand, the blade still sheathed, but she was ready to strike at any moment.
Her gaze swept across the corridor, landing on the two figures facing each other, then on the two already cold corpses on the floor, and the Autumn Water Sword stuck in the wooden plank.
A knowing glint flashed in his eyes.
She didn't approach; she simply stood quietly by the door, like a silent shadow.
Inside the room, Xiaoyu huddled on the bed, her head covered by the blanket, shivering all over.
She heard the commotion outside, the two muffled thuds of people falling to the ground, and the thunderous clang of a sword, but dared not go out to look.
She was just a fisherwoman, a naive girl who had never seen the world.
What she experienced tonight has far exceeded her limits.
Zhao Qingxue remained seated in the armchair beside the octagonal table.
She didn't move at all from beginning to end.
The moonlight streaming in through the window cast dappled shadows on her face, making her stunning beauty appear and disappear in the light.
She overheard the conversation outside.
I heard the old man's name.
Sword fanatic Liu Bai.
She was familiar with this name.
The secret archives of the Liyang Imperial Palace contain detailed records about this person.
A peerless swordsman who was famous throughout the martial arts world thirty years ago, he acted only according to his conscience and loved to help those in need.
Legend has it that he was a master swordsman who never lost a battle, and in his later years he retired to the mountains and forests, no longer concerning himself with worldly affairs.
I never expected to run into you here.
At this moment, the legendary swordsman is facing off against Qin Mu.
Zhao Qingxue's fingers tightened slightly inside her sleeve.
She didn't care whether Liu Bai lived or died, nor did she care whether Qin Mu won or lost.
All she wanted to know was—just how strong was Qin Mu?
The illusory image formed by the Emperor Taizu's decree was annihilated by his attack.
The giant dragon that had been entangled with Li Chunfeng for hundreds of rounds was easily destroyed by him.
At this moment, he was facing Liu Bai, a sword fanatic who had been immersed in the way of the sword for sixty years.
What will he do?
What kind of strength will they demonstrate?
Zhao Qingxue didn't know.
But she knew that tonight, she might see even more.
In the corridor, Liu Bai placed his hand on the sword box and slowly closed his eyes.
His breathing became long and even, as if he had merged with the heavens and earth.
His aura suddenly became more restrained at this moment, like a sword about to be drawn from its sheath, accumulating its sharpest edge within.
Qin Mu stood with his hands behind his back, his moon-white robe fluttering slightly in the night breeze.
He didn't move, didn't adopt any stance, and didn't even show any martial arts aura.
He stood there quietly, his gaze fixed on Liu Bai, his eyes filled with a hint of appreciation and anticipation.
Like an audience member waiting for a long-awaited performance.
Time seemed to slow down dramatically at that moment.
The sound of dripping water from the eaves, one drop after another.
The night breeze swept through the corridor, and the soft rustling of their clothes was clearly audible.
Finally—Liu Bai opened his eyes.
Those eyes, weathered by seventy years of trials, now shone like two cold stars.
He raised his hand and gently patted the sword case.
"Zheng—!!!"
The moment the sword box was opened, three sword lights shot into the sky simultaneously!
It wasn't one of those three swords from before.
There are three other handles.
It was a completely black sword with a thick blade like a door panel, ancient runes engraved on its spine, and it exuded a heavy, mountain-like aura.
A sword, pure white, with a slender blade like a willow leaf, its tip slightly upturned, gleaming with a cool, moonlit light.
There was another sword, completely transparent, as if carved from ice. Under the moonlight, the blade was almost invisible; one could only see the air twisting and condensing around it, as if even space itself was frozen.
Three swords, three completely different sword intents.
Heavy as a mountain, light as water, cold as frost.
The three swords were drawn simultaneously, their sword intents intertwined, instantly enveloping the entire corridor!
The floor began to crack, the walls began to peel, and fine cracks appeared on the pillars.
The hanging lanterns swayed violently, and the candlelight inside the lantern shades flickered wildly, almost going out!
This is the true strength of Liu Bai, the sword fanatic!
The three swords were unleashed simultaneously, their sword intents intertwining to form a domain that was enough to crush any martial artist below the Celestial Phenomenon Realm!
But Qin Mu remained standing in the same spot.
The moon-white robe remained completely still, not even the hem fluttered.
He stood there quietly, as if the sword intent that could tear metal apart was nothing more than a gentle breeze passing in front of him.
A hint of shock flashed in Liu Bai's eyes.
He raised his hand, and three swords shot out simultaneously!
The black sword, as large as a mountain, crashed down from the front, carrying a terrifying power that could split mountains and shatter rocks!
The white sword moved like the wind, flanking from the side and aiming straight for Qin Mu's left rib!
The ice sword, as cold as frost, pierced down from above, and wherever the sword passed, the air condensed into ice crystals, which then fluttered down!
The three swords arrived simultaneously, their coordination flawless, sealing off all of Qin Mu's escape routes!
This is Liu Bai's trump card, called the "Three Talents Killing Formation".
He practiced for thirty years but never used it in front of others.
Because there's no one worth using him.
And today, he used it.
But Qin Mu still didn't move.
He simply raised his hand.
The movements were slow and casual, as casual as reaching out to pluck a leaf from one's own backyard.
Then—his fingers lightly flicked the blade of the black sword that was slashing down from above.
"bite--"
A very soft, very clear sound.
The sound was not loud, even softer than the dripping of water from the eaves.
But the heavy, mountain-like black sword stopped abruptly the moment it touched that finger!
A violent tremor emanated from the sword, as if it were in fear and wailing!
Immediately afterwards, the sword flew back like a leaf scattered by a gale, even faster than it had come!
"boom!"
The black sword slammed heavily against the wall at the end of the corridor, causing the entire wall to collapse with a roar, sending brick and stone fragments flying everywhere!
At the same time, Qin Mu raised his other hand and gently brushed it away.
The white sword that attacked from the side seemed to be drawn by invisible threads, drawing a strange arc in the air, grazing the hem of his clothes, and piercing into the pillar behind him. The entire blade was embedded, leaving only the hilt trembling slightly outside.
As he tilted his head slightly, the ice sword that had pierced down from above grazed his cheek, the chill it brought condensing into a thin layer of frost on his face before dissipating.
Three swords were drawn simultaneously.
Three swords strike simultaneously.
The whole process took only a moment.
Liu Bai stood still, motionless.
He looked at the white sword deeply embedded in the pillar, at the black sword that had smashed through the wall, and at the ice sword that had grazed Qin Mu's cheek and was now trembling slightly in mid-air.
For the first time, an almost bewildered expression appeared on his aged face.
He practiced swordsmanship for fifty years.
His most treasured skill.
He had rehearsed the perfect strike countless times in his mind.
They were so utterly vulnerable in front of this young man.
Liu Bai slowly lowered his arms.
He did not make another move.
Because he knew that no matter how many times he tried, the result would be the same.
The gap is too big.
So large that he couldn't even see the depth of the other party's abilities.
So much so that he couldn't even feel "despair," leaving only a blank, bewildered feeling.
He looked at Qin Mu, opened his mouth, as if to say something.
But just then—a warm sensation welled up from the corner of his mouth.
Liu Bai subconsciously raised his hand and wiped it away.
Crimson blood stained his fingertips.
he got hurt.
He wasn't injured by Qin Mu.
It was the backlash from his own sword intent.
The three swords were unleashed simultaneously, their sword intent fully unleashed, yet the opponent easily neutralized them.
The force of the backlash damaged his meridians.
Liu Bai looked at the blood on his fingertip and suddenly smiled.
That smile contained bitterness, relief, and a complex emotion that was hard to describe.
He withdrew his hand, raised his sleeve to wipe the corner of his mouth, and the bloodstains spread into a dark red stain on his gray Taoist robe.
Then, he looked at Qin Mu and slowly spoke:
"I have lost."
He said those three words very calmly, as if he were simply stating a perfectly ordinary fact.
But only he himself knew what kind of turbulent waves were hidden behind those three words.
He, Liu Bai, spent his life seeking the sword, and was invincible throughout his life.
In his seventy-three years of life, he has never bowed his head to anyone, nor admitted defeat to any opponent.
But tonight, he accepted it.
They lost convincingly.
There's nothing to say about the defeat.
They lost so badly that they couldn't even muster the slightest resentment.
Qin Mu looked at him, at the relief on his aged face, and at the calm that gradually settled in his eyes.
He nodded slightly.
"Excellent swordsmanship," he said.
In three words: sincerity, frankness, and no formalities.
Liu Bai was slightly taken aback, then smiled.
This time, the smile was much more genuine than before.
"To receive such praise from you," he said, "is to say that my fifty years of swordsmanship have not been in vain."
He paused, his gaze falling on the ice sword floating in the air.
The sword was still trembling slightly, as if it hadn't yet recovered from the shock it had just experienced.
Liu Bai raised his hand and gently beckoned.
The ice sword transformed into a streak of light, flew back to his side, and hovered on his shoulder.
The white sword that had pierced the pillar was automatically pulled out and flew back to his side.
Only the black sword that smashed through the wall remained buried in the rubble, emitting a dull clang.
Liu Bai did not rush to summon it.
He simply looked at Qin Mu and suddenly asked:
"How much force did you use for that last shot?"
That's a strange question.
But Qin Mu understood.
He smiled, extended his right hand, and raised one finger.
"One point," he said.