Chapter 64: Sword Saint of the Moon — Part 2
Shing!
A sharp metallic sound split through the air as Yuexin unsheathed the lunar sword once more, both hands gripping the hilt tightly—her stance shifted, bathed in the halo of moonlight.
In that moment she exuded the presence of a giant ethereal sword piercing through the nine heavens, it was like her mind, body and soul had fused completely with the sword.
"Man and sword as one... Mind, body, and soul in unity with the sword..." Su Tianhao narrowed his eyes at this phenomenon. He had encountered something like this in his inherited memories—but he never thought he would witness it so early.
'Sword Unity... Mother has achieved Sword Unity?!' he mumbled in a daze.
For a moment he seemed to have forgotten that even a Sword King would have learned sword unity—not to mention a Sword Saint. Before a Sword Saint, a Sword King was no different from an ant.
But before he could lose himself in fantasies about Sword Unity, Yuexin's voice rang out sharply. There was a different quality to her tone now—a sharpness that hadn't been there before.
"The sixth move of the Nine Basic Sword Moves is Riposte. It is a swift counterattack immediately after a parry—blending defense and offense into one."
"I see..." Su Tianhao nodded with understanding. But Yuexin wasn't done.
"A riposte is not revenge—it is rhythm. Their strike is your invitation. Do not retaliate immediately—continue the song. Let the sword become an extension of your own hand. It is the key to perfect swordplay."
Su Tianhao's expression of understanding instantly crumbled as her words fully landed.
'It's not simple at all!' he cried inwardly.
"Allow me to demonstrate," Yuexin said calmly.
Su Tianhao's eyes brightened. 'That's right—I'll understand better through actual practice.'
"Come at me with your sword. This time, use everything you have... and come with the will to kill."
"Eh?"
Su Tianhao raised an eyebrow. "Will to kill?"
Yuexin only nodded once before patiently waiting.
Su Tianhao took a sharp breath, his mind reeling. He couldn't fathom how he could possibly harbor killing intent toward someone who had never wronged him.
The silence stretched. Seeing Yuexin had no intention of acting first, he had no choice.
'I just have to find a way.'
He shut his eyes completely, his mind searching for something—someone—to generate killing intent. Only one person came to mind. Not Su Jian.
Ye Wenjie.
The moment he visualized Ye Wenjie's manipulative figure—that smug smile, those mocking slanted eyes—an inexplicable surge of anger and irritation rose in his chest. A genuine grudge. He still hadn't forgotten how close his pride had come to being trampled.
'Every dragon has a reverse scale. My reverse scale is my pride. Nobody touches my reverse scale.'
The moment those thoughts crystallized, Su Tianhao's eyes snapped open — their golden depths carrying strong, focused killing intent.
When he looked at Yuexin again, he wasn't seeing Yuexin. He was seeing Ye Wenjie.
"Die!"
His voice echoed like a battle cry. Inner energy surged through his body, veins bulging visibly along his arm as he slashed downward from above—a Cleave.
Yuexin glanced calmly at the dangerous strike aimed straight for her head. She didn't react immediately. Her lips curled into a warm, proud smile.
Swoosh.
She moved.
Her lunar sword shimmered like liquid starlight—moving not to block, but to accept. The cleaving strike met her blade at the perfect angle.
Cling!
There was no clash of brute strength. The force of Su Tianhao's downward strike was absorbed and redirected with a flawless pivot of her wrist. His own momentum was used against him.
And then—
Flash!
With a graceful twist of her waist and a single flowing step forward, Yuexin's blade snapped outward—striking toward his exposed flank with the swiftness of a lightning serpent weaving through moonlight.
Su Tianhao felt the wind shift. His eyes widened in shock.
By the time he recovered his stance, Yuexin's sword was already sheathed again.
She hadn't just deflected him.
She had danced through his attack—and replied in the same breath.
"If this weren't a demonstration... I wouldn't even know how I died," he whispered breathlessly.
Yuexin nodded softly, voice clear and calm.
"A perfect riposte carries no ego. It flows like a river over stone—gentle, fluid, but inevitable. Your opponent strikes... and you complete the motion using their own momentum against them."
Su Tianhao stood frozen, sweat beading on his forehead.
He had put genuine killing intent into that attack. And she had welcomed it like a breeze—then returned it without hostility. Just clarity.
'How deep does her understanding of the sword truly go?' he thought inwardly, his heart pounding.
"Oh?" Yuexin's voice rang out softly—yet it held a weight that froze him in place.
He looked up sharply, startled—not just by the sudden sound, but by what came next.
"When you attacked just now," she continued calmly, "your killing intent was unrefined. Wild... uncontrolled. That is dangerous."
Su Tianhao's brows furrowed. "Uncontrolled?"
"As a swordsman, your blade is not the only thing you must master. Killing intent is a double-edged sword—if you cannot control it, your enemy will. A true swordsman wields bloodlust like a needle... not a hammer."
Those words struck deeper than any blade.
Su Tianhao stood there stunned—not because of what was said, but because of who had said it.
She had sensed his killing intent.
But how?
"Wait... you're a spiritual will," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "How did you know what I was feeling when I struck?"
A strange stillness passed between them. A normal spiritual will was just a fragment—like a painting that could not move beyond its frame. It could only repeat what it was programmed to say or do, completely bound by predetermined actions.
But Yuexin was different.
Despite being only a spiritual imprint of the real Tian Yuexin, she reacted like a living being. She countered attacks. She spoke new words. She felt things.
"She's not a regular spiritual will," Su Tianhao mumbled with sudden realization. "She's not even just a memory echo. Her reactions... they're instinctual."
The spiritual will before him had been forged not just with memory, but with instinct—a layered design so profound that only someone at the peak of the Martial Saint Realm, perhaps even beyond, could create it.
She wasn't conscious, but she moved like the real Yuexin would have moved.
She wasn't alive, but she responded as if she were.
A perfectly constructed phantom... carrying the will of a Sword Saint.
No wonder even her presence felt real.
"I see," Su Tianhao murmured, eyes shining with quiet awe. 'She's not just here to teach me like a puppet... she's here to temper me. My parents are even more incredible than I thought.'
Yuexin, naturally oblivious to his thoughts, continued her teachings with serene precision.
"The seventh move is Reverse Grip Slash — a slash using a reversed grip, suitable for close-range engagements or attacking from unconventional angles."
Her voice was calm but filled with clarity and authority. Su Tianhao waited in silence, knowing there was more.
He was right.
Yuexin's gaze turned sharp, expression solemn. "Reverse your grip when the world closes in. Control the battlefield not with reach... but with unpredictability."
Su Tianhao's brows furrowed slightly. He understood the concept—but the application eluded him entirely.
"Prepare yourself," Yuexin said once more, slower and more deliberate. "I will now show you what it means to wield the Reverse Grip Slash."
The moment her words died down, the world began to crumble.
The courtyard fractured beneath their feet. The skies twisted violently. Space itself cracked open like shattered glass—splitting reality with terrifying force, as if an apocalypse had arrived without warning.
Su Tianhao's eyes widened in horror.
It reminded him of the colossal dragon he had witnessed during his bloodline awakening—that suffocating presence that could devour worlds. But this was different. There was no visible cause. No dragon. No power he could identify.
Just destruction.
When it ended, the world had changed entirely.
Su Tianhao now stood in the center of a vast, desolate wasteland soaked in apocalyptic silence. The moon above burned blood red, casting eerie shadows across a sky split between deep crimson and void-black. The ground beneath his feet was cracked and scorched—as if a thousand volcanic eruptions had torn through it.
No life.
No sound.
Only Yuexin stood before him—her ethereal, radiant form like a shard of purity in the heart of destruction.
"Where are we?" Su Tianhao asked, his voice barely audible.
"You are about to witness the Reverse Grip Slash performed amidst bloodshed," Yuexin said softly, her voice unshaken. Her moon-like eyes gazed calmly into the horizon. "Let this sharpen your sword... and your killing intent."
Then—
Thud... thud... THUD!
The earth trembled beneath their feet. A low, rhythmic quake echoed through the silence.
They arrived.
Hundreds of monstrous figures surged over the charred hills—demonic creatures twisted by sinister Qi, their forms misshapen and horrific. Jagged fangs, clawed limbs, eyes glowing with madness. Each step bled spiritual corruption into the scorched ground.
"What are those?!" Su Tianhao shouted in horror.
But Yuexin gave no reply. She didn't even glance at him.
Her focus had locked onto the horde ahead—her will settling into something absolute and still.
Her next lesson was about to begin.