Gou Zai Fei Men made up myths

The greatsword fell silently. Not that there was no sound, but rather that all sound, light, and even space itself seemed to have been cleaved and swallowed up by this single strike!

All that remained in everyone's eyes was that silver rift that divided heaven and earth, descending with an aura of annihilation!

Faced with this sword strike that seemed capable of splitting the heavens and earth, Shen Mo finally moved.

It wasn't a dodge, nor a parry. He simply raised his right hand slightly, extended one index finger, and a faint, firefly-like, yet pure, light emanated from the fingertip. He then gently touched the descending blade of the greatsword, which seemed capable of destroying everything.

The movements were gentle and freehand, as if they were not confronting a terrifying sword that could cleave mountains, but rather touching a dewdrop about to fall.

"bite--"

A crisp, clear sound, seemingly echoing deep within everyone's soul, suddenly rang out!

There was no earth-shattering explosion as imagined, no terrifying scene of rampant energy.

Under everyone's stunned gaze, the world-destroying silver giant sword, the moment it touched the point of light on Shen Mo's fingertip, silently crumbled and dissipated from the tip of the sword, just like ice and snow under the sunlight!

It wasn't shattered, nor was it negated; rather, it was as if the very foundation of its existence was instantly stripped away, its structure instantly disintegrated, turning into the most primordial specks of light, quietly vanishing into the air.

The ten-zhang-long giant sword vanished in the blink of an eye, as if it had never existed.

"puff--!"

With his sword move broken, Jian Wuji was struck as if by a heavy blow, his face turning deathly pale. He let out a muffled groan, staggered back three steps, each step leaving a deep footprint on the hard, cold star iron table!

He raised his head and stared intently at Shen Mo, his eyes filled with disbelief, shock and anger, and a hint of... horror that even he himself did not realize!

The entire hall was deathly silent. Everyone stared wide-eyed, forgetting to breathe, their minds blank.

What happened? Jian Wuji's "Ten Thousand Swords Return to the Origin," a terrifying technique capable of splitting mountains and shattering peaks, was... just wiped out with a light touch?

Is this still a friendly sparring match? This is practically adults toying with children! No, it's even more outrageous! It's like a child wielding a wooden sword and slashing at a towering, unmoving mountain, without even raising a speck of dust!

Shen Mo slowly withdrew his finger, the faint light at its tip dissipating. He looked at Jian Wuji, whose face was pale and whose breathing was disordered, and sighed softly. His voice was calm, yet it clearly reached everyone's ears, carrying a kind of all-knowing indifference and...pity?

"Fellow Daoist Wuji," he spoke slowly, "your sword, though fast and ruthless, seems flawless, but in reality..."

He paused, his gaze sharp as if he could pierce through the skin and look into the depths of the other person's soul.

"Fully riddled with flaws."

"What?!" Jian Wuji looked up abruptly, his eyes bloodshot, filled with shame and anger. "You brat! How dare you spout such nonsense! How dare you question my swordsmanship?!"

Shen Mo shook his head, as if stating a simple fact: "The first sword, 'A Line of Sky,' seeks speed and danger. Its sword intent is condensed but not pure. Its sharpness is exposed by three parts, but not seven parts are contained. It seems to be locked on, but in reality, it is impatient and its killing intent is too strong, thus revealing its true intentions. I only need to turn my body slightly to the side, and your sword intent will naturally deviate."

"The second sword strike, 'Heavenly Net,' aimed to overwhelm the opponent with sheer force and quantity. Unfortunately, his mind was restless and agitated; although his sword energy was abundant, the connection between them was clumsy and sluggish. The thirteenth and seventy-fourth sword threads..."

Because your left middle finger trembled slightly (by half a centimeter) when you wielded the sword, creating a momentary gap.

"The 209th and 356th paths, due to your rapid breathing, caused your spiritual energy to circulate half a step faster, resulting in overlapping trajectories and canceling out 30% of their power... Flaws abound."

With each word he uttered, Jian Wuji's face paled further. These subtle mistakes, which even he himself hadn't noticed, were pointed out with unparalleled precision by Shen Mo!

"As for the third sword," Shen Mo looked at Jian Wuji, his gaze filled with a hint of regret, but even more so with a cold, penetrating insight, "'Ten Thousand Swords Return to the Origin,' a resounding name, but unfortunately, it's all show and no substance. You forcefully absorbed the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, using the ruthless sword intent to unleash it, seemingly magnificent and domineering, but in reality, its foundation is weak."

"Your obsession runs too deep, and your eagerness to win has led you to forcibly increase the power of your sword. However, this has resulted in your sword intent and spiritual power failing to blend together. Furthermore, there are at least seventeen spiritual power nodes where the flow of energy is obstructed, and three key sword intent runes have become loose... This sword may seem invincible, but in reality, it crumbles at the slightest touch."

"Because when you drew your sword, your mind was already in turmoil and your will was already agitated. The sword was no longer a sword; it was merely a tool for you to vent your anger and prove yourself."

He stepped forward, his voice not loud, but like a heavy hammer, striking Jian Wuji's heart, and also striking the souls of everyone present:

"Fellow Daoist Wuji, your sword, though fast, has lost its purity. Though ruthless, it has lost its composure. You keep claiming to have slain your inner demons and achieved mastery of the sword."

"But ask yourself honestly, after years of seclusion, what you truly severed was not just your inner demons, but... your own true self? What you pursued was not the ultimate swordsmanship, but that vague and intangible obsession that overwhelmed me?"

Shen Mo's gaze seemed to pierce through Jian Wuji's cold exterior, revealing the raging black flames burning deep within his heart, a mixture of jealousy, resentment, anger, and obsession.

"If you don't rid yourself of your obsessions and your mind is clouded by killing intent, no matter how sharp or fast your sword is, it's nothing more than a flower in a mirror or the moon's reflection in water—it has the form but not the spirit. How can you achieve great things with such a swordsmanship? You're just going further and further astray on a wrong path."

"boom--!"

These words were like a thunderclap from the heavens, exploding in Jian Wuji's mind!

He secluded himself for arduous cultivation, believing he had broken through the barriers and attained a clear understanding of swordsmanship. The extraordinary phenomenon of sword energy soaring into the sky and ten thousand swords paying homage when he emerged from seclusion further fueled his pride, making him believe he had entered an unprecedented realm.

However, Shen Mo's few words, though seemingly casual, completely refuted his seemingly perfect "sword way," and laid bare the anxiety, impatience, jealousy and fear towards Shen Mo and the growing Qingyun Alliance that he was unwilling to admit deep in his heart!

"You...you're talking nonsense!!" Jian Wuji trembled violently, pointing at Shen Mo, his voice hoarse, filled with shame, indignation, and rage. Where was the cold, aloof demeanor of the grandmaster from moments before? "Spreading heresy! Disrupting my sword spirit! I'll kill you!"

He was like a madman, about to pounce again without regard for anything. His spiritual energy surged wildly due to the intense emotional fluctuations, his face turned pale and then flushed, and his breathing became extremely disordered.

"Sect Master! Calm down!" Jian Wuhen cried out in alarm from below the stage. Several elders of the Heavenly Sword Sect also reacted and were about to rush onto the stage.

Shen Mo simply looked at him quietly, his eyes calm and unwavering, as if he were looking at a pitiful person in a hysterical state.

He gently shook his head, said nothing more, turned around, and walked off the stage. His steps remained unhurried, as if the thrilling "sparring" that others thought could determine the fate of the Southern Region was nothing more than a fallen leaf brushed away with a casual stroll.

Even after his figure slowly descended from the dueling platform and returned to the Qingyun Alliance members, the entire square remained completely silent.