"My sword-dao is nothing special."
Qin Mu watched the swordplay colliding with the saber-light in the mist and smiled. "My sword-dao only has two moves—probably not worth mentioning."
His attention was drawn to Queena White's swordplay. Her sword art was derived from him; forty thousand years ago, in Baillong City, he had exchanged sword techniques with the White siblings, but it was only for an hour or two.
The White siblings didn't learn much; soon after, calamity struck and Baillong City was breached. They began fleeing into the darkness.
At sunrise, they embraced before a sheer cliff, then parted ways.
Queena White led the surviving people to live on. Her sword art was derived from Qin Mu’s, but she didn’t continue down the Everpeace imperial sword path—instead, she forged her own road.
Her swordplay carried the spirit of forging a path to survival amid nine deaths and tribulations at the end of the world. That was the mark of her era—the dark years forced her to become strong, and with her meager strength she fought for a sliver of hope for those who remained.
Logan Cross’s saber technique excelled in calculation; his saber-light was upright and overwhelming, pressing with sheer force. Queena White’s sword, by contrast, broke through surfaces with points, using terrifying penetration to shatter Logan’s momentum.
Both their saber and sword arts bore traces of Qin Mu’s legacy; his sword technique contained grand momentum, intricate calculation, and the spirit of piercing the darkness of an age.
Queena White had received Qin Mu’s guidance, while Logan Cross’s saber technique, refined through calculation, was countered by Qin Mu’s own calculated sword. Clearly, both Queena and Logan had been influenced by him.
Yet each of them has forged their own path, breaking free from the awe Quinn Shepherd inspired in them on that night forty thousand years ago. Their different fates and personalities have led them to distinct achievements on their respective roads.
The scholar lounged comfortably atop Luther the Donkey, ambling along at ease. He said, "It's rare to hear you being so modest. But there are far more people who cultivate sword technique than saber technique, and those who achieve greatness with the sword are countless. Many even attain Dao through the sword. Just to name a few, there's the National Preceptor of Everpeace and Sword God Su Muche—two supreme sword-dao giants in Everpeace alone. Back in the Pioneer Era, those who reached the heights of sword-dao were beyond number. Your sword technique is, indeed, worthy of acclaim."
Quinn Shepherd sat atop Bruno the Dragon-Qilin's head, speaking leisurely, "Brother, I said my sword-dao is nothing special—I never claimed anything about my sword technique. If we're talking pure sword technique, if I call myself second, no one dares claim first."
He smiled faintly. "Across the last million years, there have been countless who surpassed me in sword-dao. But in terms of sword technique, I've already reached the pinnacle. Maybe someone will surpass me in the future, but in the past million years, there hasn't been a single one."
The scholar was taken aback, and Luther the Donkey beneath him let out a braying laugh: "Heh!"
The scholar set down his fishing rod, letting Luther take a bite of the carrot, and laughed, "Not even the Pioneer Emperor could compare?"
Luther the Donkey chomped down on the carrot, which suddenly let out a shrill scream and instantly grew another segment—its body still completely intact.
The carrot kept on wailing, its voice piercing and miserable.
"That carrot's become a spirit!"
The water kirin jumped in surprise and leaned in for a closer look. Suddenly, the carrot sprouted arms and punched him right on the nose, sending blood streaming down his snout.
"The carrot's alive!" the water kirin cried.
"What are you staring at?"
The carrot fumed, "You'd be howling too if you got bitten! I'm not a carrot—I'm a ginseng!"
It struggled to break free from the fishing rod, shouting, "Let me go! I’m going to beat this idiot who insulted me and show him what’s what!"
Quinn Shepherd looked at the carrot, astonished, then laughed, "Not even the Pioneer Emperor could compare."
The scholar’s eyes flashed. "I, too, have cultivated sword technique. Throughout history, only two or three have ever surpassed me. My sword technique has reached the level of Dao—I’ve developed my sword-dao through thirteen treatises. In sword technique, I consider myself accomplished. I’d love to meet the number one sword technician in a million years."
He set aside his feather fan and fishing rod. The ginseng stood atop Luther the Donkey’s head, fish line tangled around its head, hopping about and shaking its fists at the water kirin. "Come on, let’s spar!"
The scholar’s eyes gleamed. "Let’s use vital-qi as our swords and exchange a few moves. Don’t worry—I won’t use cultivation to bully you, nor will I press you with sword-dao."
Quinn Shepherd shook his head. "You’re stuck on a donkey’s back—hardly fair for me to bully you."
"A scholar roams the world with his sword, singing and slaying from donkey-back all the same. Besides, you’re sitting on Bruno the Dragon-Qilin’s head—neither of us is exactly free to move."