Chapter 32 — First Glimpse of the World-Suppressing Spear in the Desolate City

When Granny Zhu had battled the Five Elders of the Billowing River Sect, the Ten-Thousand-Blade Sword Soul of Qi Yanbing, the foremost among them, had held six thousand eight hundred and forty-two swords—already a terrifying number.

And now the swords in the Li River Water Dragon Formation were ten times that count!

Numbering in the tens of thousands, the flying swords assembled into a dragon in the water—a silver dragon of swords. Sword-lights swirled endlessly through its body; the swords never ceased moving, on the verge of raising wind and waves!

Such a dreadful sword formation—Shen Mu had never seen its like in his life, had never even dared to imagine it!

The moment the formation struck, it could surely destroy Hidden Remnant Village!

The headman remained leaning against his stretcher, his expression barely stirring at the terrible formation before him. He said lightly: "Blind Elder."

The Blind Elder lifted his face, as if contemplating the secrets of the Li River Water Dragon Formation, but his eye sockets were empty—no eyes were there. How could he see?

Countless blades gave shrill cries, like an enraged dragon revealing its cruel nature, tearing through the air and descending on Hidden Remnant Village like an overwhelming deluge!

The Blind Elder raised his bamboo staff in one hand and darted it toward the incoming storm of sword-light, chanting softly: "I hold the art of slaying dragons—today I shall break the Li River—"

Ding.

A single crisp collision silenced every blade's shriek. In midair, the body of that silver dragon, which had seemed able to destroy all things, went rigid; then, with a rush, the countless swords rained down and stuck into the earth one after another.

The Blind Elder gently lifted his bamboo staff—and that entire miniature Li River of great water was hoisted aloft by the one staff. The river collapsed, unable to hold the shape of a great river, sheets of water crashing down from the sky.

The Blind Elder's long chant went on without pause. He walked across the water, his soles not touching its surface, his bamboo staff pointing here and there. One Li River expert was tapped upon his brow; his forehead burst open and the staff tip punched through the back of his skull.

Another raised a hand to block; the bamboo staff pierced his palm, then ran through his chest.

The Blind Elder walked from the head of the Li River to its tail; behind him, corpse after corpse dropped from the air. Then he came face to face with Mu Beilan. Their bodies crossed in a flash—in that single instant, Shen Mu could not tell how many times they had clashed, how many divine arts they had employed.

Mu Beilan landed. He took two steps forward.

And the last word of the Blind Elder's chant, "break the Li River"—the syllable "River" had just left his mouth, the sound not yet fallen to the earth.

"Blind Elder, I know who you are. I never thought you would be hiding here, nor that, with your eyes destroyed, you could still possess such strength!"

Having said this, Mu Beilan's face suddenly turned deathly pale. He sat down before the headman and said softly: "Our Billowing River Sword Sect lives by the river. Our custom is water burial. The body must not meet the earth. I beg you, brother, to grant this."

The headman nodded gently: "Rest easy. The river is right outside the gate."

"To have seen the divine spear, I die without regret!"

Mu Beilan let out his last breath and passed away with a smile.

Shen Mu circled around behind him and was startled. The back of Mu Beilan's skull gaped open—a great hole had been pierced through it.