Chapter 129: The Ninth Slash, Lu Ruyi's Resolve
Morning broke gently over Fei Wu Quarter.
Golden light spilled over the rooftops, brushing the stone courtyards and swaying leaves with warmth. The air was crisp, tinged with dew, and the sky above was clear—washed clean by the long night.
Beneath the ancient oak, Su Tianhao lay motionless.
But not for long.
His fingers twitched.
A sharp breath escaped his lips as his eyes snapped open—bright, focused, and deeper than before. Not just in color. In something more fundamental, as if something had shifted inside him while he slept.
He sat up slowly, muscles aching, head still pounding faintly. He didn't grimace.
He smiled.
"I get it now," he murmured. "The rhythm. The flow. The timing."
His understanding of Ninefold Deathflash had transformed. No longer abstract or theoretical—it was instinctual. Internalized. He looked at his hand, then at Shadowfang resting nearby in its sheath.
"Let's see how I fare this time."
He rose, reached for the sword, and stood alone in the quiet courtyard—azure robes catching the cool morning breeze.
"Shadow-Splitting Flash—Third Form—"
His voice was low but steady, resonating with quiet resolve.
"Ninefold Deathflash!"
Shing!
Shadowfang erupted from its sheath in a streak of crimson-gold—Su Tianhao vanished.
Seven distinct slashes carved through the air in rapid succession, each one faster and more precise than the last.
"Still not good enough," he murmured when he landed.
No frustration. No desperation. Just calm stillness.
He steadied his stance, letting the silence settle. His thoughts returned to the insight now alive within him.
'The nine slashes aren't simply about how fast the sword moves, but when each slash is released. Each motion must overlap the last—not just in movement, but in intent. Like striking nine notes in perfect succession—distinct yet forming one unified sound.'
The words echoed in his mind like the fading chime of a bell in a vast hall.
His eyes gleamed.
"Shadow-Splitting Flash—Third Form: Ninefold Deathflash!"
Eight slashes tore through the air—so swift they seemed woven into a single radiant arc.
A remarkable feat. But Su Tianhao wasn't satisfied. Not yet.
His brows furrowed. 'With my level of understanding, the full form shouldn't be out of reach. So what's stopping me?'
Then Su Lei's voice surfaced in his memory—spoken casually once, carrying more weight now than it had then:
'Without an opponent or clear target, your attacks naturally lack genuine intent. Intent is born from purpose—from the need to strike, to defend, to kill or protect. You can't forge that by cutting air alone.'
Su Tianhao's gaze sharpened.
"That's it."
He had perfected the movement. But not the intent.
His eyes swept across the courtyard—from his humble home, to the towering oak, and finally to the bronze figure standing beside it.
The Martial Adept-level training dummy.
His lips curled slightly. "Perhaps it's time you fulfilled your purpose."
---
Su Tianhao stood opposite the training dummy. The morning light cast long shadows between them. The courtyard was still—windless, silent, even the birds holding their breath.
His fingers brushed Shadowfang's hilt.
His eyes locked on the target.
The bronze dummy stood tall and unmoving, its surface gleaming beneath the sun. Yet in this moment, it became something more than a tool. It was his final threshold.
He inhaled once—slow, steady.
Then everything around him faded. No courtyard. No morning breeze.
Only blade, breath, and blood-deep intent.
His Killing Sword Sense sharpened to a point.
"Shadow-Splitting Flash..."
His right foot slid back. Knees bent. His grip shifted—his entire presence drawing inward like a predator coiling before a fatal pounce.
"...Third Form."
His aura surged—crimson-gold light erupting around him, robes flaring as pressure rolled off his body like an incoming storm. The ground beneath him cracked.
"Ninefold Deathflash!"
Shing!
Shadowfang flashed from its sheath in a blaze of light. Su Tianhao vanished—reappearing in the blink of an eye.
Nine impossibly precise slashes tore through space in less than a heartbeat.
Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash.
Each strike followed the last not just in motion, but in perfect intent—as if nine swords had moved with one soul.
BOOM!
A shockwave burst outward, flattening grass and shaking dust from the surrounding stone.
Su Tianhao stood unmoving with his back turned, Shadowfang already sheathed. Behind him, the training dummy remained still for one suspended moment.
Then—
CRACK.
Nine clean slices split across its surface in a criss-crossing pattern—like a glass sculpture shattering beneath a master's touch. A metallic groan followed. The bronze frame separated cleanly, nine segments slipping apart before clattering to the ground in a cascade of ringing steel.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
He didn't turn. He didn't need to.
"Finally... the ninth slash," Su Tianhao said quietly, his voice carrying an emotion he rarely let surface. "Shadow-Splitting Flash—Great Success."
---
Su Tianhao sat cross-legged beneath the oak tree, his back resting against the rough bark. His hair, still damp from a recent bath, clung lightly to his neck. The morning sun filtered through the leaves above, casting shifting patterns across his robe.
He tilted his head back and gazed into the clear blue sky, golden eyes calm yet alive with quiet fire.
"Now that I've mastered Ninefold Deathflash, my combat strength is easily on par with a Peak-stage Martial Adept," he murmured calmly.
His clenched fist betrayed him.
Excitement burned beneath the calm exterior. How could it not? With the third form fully mastered, he could cut down opponents six minor realms above him. With his base strength already equivalent to a 3rd level Martial Adept, slaying a Peak-stage Martial Adept was no longer a dream.
It was a certainty.
His thoughts drifted back briefly.
'If I faced Blood Grin now... killing him would be as easy as flicking my finger.'
Surprisingly, there was no hatred behind the thought. No lingering resentment. Perhaps it was because he had literally absorbed everything the man was. Or perhaps he had simply come to understand—Blood Grin had been the fire that forged his edge. That fire no longer burned. It had become part of him.
In that rare moment of stillness, Su Tianhao's mind drifted further back—to the day his bloodline awakened and everything that had followed since. Though it had only been a little over two months, it felt like a lifetime.
"Lu Ruyi..."
The name came quietly, almost to himself. A faint smile tugged at his lips. His hand drifted instinctively to the inside of his robe, where a diamond pendant rested against his chest—cool and familiar.
Lu Ruyi. His childhood companion. One of the very few people who had shown him genuine kindness before he had any power to justify it. She had broadened his perspective on the world, and her presence in Dragonspire Forest had been the spark that set him on the sword dao path entirely.
Among all his peers, she held a special place in both memory and respect that no one else occupied.
'I wonder how she's doing now,' he thought, his lips curled without a warm smile. 'Next time we meet... I might even be stronger than her.'
The last time their paths had crossed, she had already stepped into the Martial Adept Realm and was approaching Sword Will comprehension. She had also accomplished something the cultivation world considered impossible at her level—unleashing genuine spiritual energy attacks far above her realm. And behind all of that talent stood her master, Mei Yuelan, the Jade Sword Lord of Longzhou Country.
'But it's only been two months. Even with her talent, she couldn't have reached Peak-stage Martial Adept yet.'
With that thought, a quiet bloom of satisfaction settled in his chest.
He closed his eyes and let the morning breeze wash over him.
For now, he allowed himself a moment of peace.
---
Far from Oakwood City, a lone island rose from the heart of a vast, shimmering sea—like a blooming lotus resting gently atop an endless blue canvas.
Surrounded by calm waters and mist-kissed cliffs, the island seemed untouched by the outside world's chaos. Verdant forests draped its hills, and graceful stone bridges arched over clear streams that shimmered like flowing silver beneath the sunlight.
At the heart of this quiet paradise stood the Lianhua Sect—the second strongest sect in all of Longzhou Country. An all-female, elegant... and feared.
Deep within the sect's inner grounds, nestled in a courtyard adorned with peach blossom trees and a tranquil jade pool, a solitary figure moved beneath falling petals.
Dressed in flowing white robes laced with silver embroidery, the young woman practiced with silent precision. Her long black hair flowed behind her like a silken stream, and her crystalline blue eyes held a focused, quiet intensity. Each motion carried a mesmerizing serenity on the surface—and terrifying danger beneath.
She raised her sword.
"Radiant Petal Blade—First Form: Petal Drift Slash."
The words left her lips like a gentle breath. In the same instant, her figure vanished.
Whoosh!
She reappeared several meters away, her blade slashing through the air in a blur. A flurry of pink petals scattered around her—but none escaped.
Slash. Slash. Slash.
Each falling petal was bisected cleanly. Effortless. Precise. Graceful.
She didn't pause.
Her feet glided softly across the stone tiles, eyes sharpening.
"Radiant Petal Blade—Second Form: Petal Bloom."
Her voice carried frost over silk.
A dozen strikes burst from her blade in a flowing arc—streams of sword Qi spinning outward like petals caught in a storm. Delicate in appearance. Deadly in effect. A distant peach tree trembled, its trunk carved with elegant, clean gashes—deep enough to leave a mark, precise enough to leave no splinters.
There was no wasted movement. No hesitation.
Her swordplay was poetry—soft as petals, sharp as death.
Clap. Clap.
Soft applause echoed through the courtyard as a figure stepped gracefully into view.
She was tall and striking—her beauty bold and refined. A curvaceous figure, crimson lips, sharp emerald eyes gleaming with quiet authority. Long white hair flowed like silk down her back, swaying with each step. She wore vibrant green robes and carried a delicate jade sword at her waist—she radiated the kind of presence that made the air around her feel subdued.
Beneath the breathtaking appearance lay something far more formidable. Steel in her bearing. A silence that commanded without demanding. She walked like one accustomed to absolute authority.
Mei Yuelan. Sect Master of the Lianhua Sect. A Martial Lord Realm powerhouse. The Jade Sword Lord of Longzhou Country—a living legend.
"Master!"
The young woman paused mid-form, lowered her sword, and bowed respectfully.
"Raise your head, Yi'er," Mei Yuelan said, her tone gentle—a warmth she showed to very few. "Your training continues to impress me. You've grown sharper. More graceful. I'm proud of you."
The young woman lifted her gaze—crystalline blue eyes gleaming with quiet pride.
Lu Ruyi. Su Tianhao's childhood friend. Mei Yuelan's most gifted and most favored disciple.
"If you're so proud of me, Master," Lu Ruyi said, eyes wide with careful hope, "then why not let me go to Dragonspire Forest again?"
Mei Yuelan's gaze narrowed, sharp as a drawn blade. "I've heard about that little friend of yours in Oakwood City. Don't think I don't know why you're really asking."
Lu Ruyi's brows jumped. "N-No! It's not like that!"
"Oh?" Mei Yuelan arched one elegant brow.
"Last time I left him a few gifts," Lu Ruyi said, voice softening. "I just wanted to check in. See how his cultivation is progressing."
Mei Yuelan let out a faint sigh. "Since when did you care so much about others' cultivation? You barely show interest in your own fellow disciples."
"I..." Lu Ruyi opened her mouth. No words came out. She could refute that claim.
Mei Yuelan rubbed her temples gently. "You shouldn't be worrying about others. Focus on yourself first." She looked Lu Ruyi directly in the eyes, her tone firming. "The Three Great Sect Competition is only a few months away. I want you to use that stage to test yourself against geniuses who are stronger, older, and more ruthless than you."
Lu Ruyi's brows tightened. "But I've been doing my best. In just two months, I've advanced from the 1st level to the 7th level Martial Adept Realm. I've comprehended Sword Will. With my spiritual energy attacks, I can even defeat a 1st level Martial Core Realm cultivator."
"I know," Mei Yuelan said, her voice easing slightly. "That's why I said I'm proud of you. But Ruyi—you're only sixteen. Your opponents won't hold back because of your age."
"I understand," Lu Ruyi said quietly.
The defeat in her voice was small but visible. Mei Yuelan studied her disciple for a moment—and something in her expression relented.
"Alright, Yi'er," she said after a pause. "If you break through to the Martial Core Realm before the competition—I'll let you go see him. You have my word."
Lu Ruyi's eyes lit up immediately.
"Thank you, Master," she said quietly, fists clenching at her sides with quiet resolve. "I won't disappoint you."