Supreme Swordsman of the Nine Heavens

Dragon Tiger Gorge

Mu Yu rarely ever saw his shifu training. His shifu would farm or relax in the old wooden chair and appreciate the scenery. At night, he shared the happenings of the cultivation world with them, including pills and various other treasures cultivators lost their minds for. Mu Yu enjoyed learning of the various things, including cultivation disciplines that piqued his interest. As such, he considered his shifu the world of cultivation’s encylopedia. It was quite intriguing to think someone leading such a low-key lifestyle possessed that wealth of knowledge.

Feng Haochen only descended the mountain once or twice here and there to make appearances at sect events for formality’s sake. He never involved himself in any of the affairs – not as if he alone could influence the course of things.

Busy in the field, Feng Haochen reminded, “Be careful you two. Stick together and come back early.”

“Understood,” responded Lan Ling’er and Mu Yu.

The burden and annoying granny – identities Mu Yu and Lan Ling’er assigned each other, respectively – engaged in a verbal tirade as soon as they descended the mountain.

“Will it kill you to fly a little higher?”

Members of Dustfallen Sect usually headed out from halfway down the mountain. Mu Yu, on the other hand, insisted on heading out from the foot of the mountain, forcing Lan Ling’er to wait for him to take the long route and climb down.

“I don’t know about dying; however, I can ensure I won’t die if I fly lower,” proudly argued Mu Yu, clearly prepared for Lan Ling’er’s jabs.

Lan Ling’er deliberately soared up fifty metres high, sure Mu Yu wouldn’t meet her up there. Mu Yu didn’t like heights, but he didn’t have a phobia of flying fast. He scratched his nose, then mounted his sword and went after her. He had no choice but to let her navigate as he had only gone to Dustfallen Sect from the academy once. She flew higher than him and in front as they silently made their way to the academy. As it took Feng Haochen four hours to go to and fro, they estimated they needed to travel for eight hours due to the difference in their cultivation levels.

Mount Dustfallen was out of sight after flying for two hours. Mu Yu was insipid as neither of them spoke to the other. When the others joined them in past trips, they’d chat away. The only thing Lan Ling’er said thus far on the trip was, “Second Senior Brother loved to fly high. He said men should fly high and pursue the cast sky.”

“And he probably flew too high for his own good, plummeted back down, lost his memories and now can’t find his way home.”

To spite Mu Yu, Lan Ling’er kept on raising her elevation level until she was a vague red spot against the blue backdrop. A rough estimate would say she was over a hundred metres above ground.

When Mu Yu passed through a valley, several hostile cultivators tried to get in his way, claiming it their territory. Mu Yu wasn’t aware it was their territory nor did he purposely trespass. Nevertheless, a bearded man aggressively swung his axe at Mu Yu, while six other cultivators of varying ages scowled. Mu Yu never encountered any conflicts with other cultivators before. He lamented it took him only two years to see what sorts of people cultivators were.

“Sorry for trespassing. I’ll show myself out.”

Territories were important to cultivators. Essentially, they were places the owners hid their secrets. Understandably, barging in wasn’t wise. Not even Mu Yu’s seniors had ever been in any tussles with other cultivators. To be fair, Cheng Yan knew the roads, meaning he wouldn’t lead them into other cultivators’ territories. Mu Yu blindly flew, though.

“You think you can just waltz into Dragon Tiger Gorge and leave whenever you want?” The shifty sixty year old elder in yellow snickered in his high-pitched voice.

“I apologise, but I did not mean to intrude. I am sorry.”

Mu Yu looked up and noticed Lan Ling’er was gone. He surmised she knew he was confronted but left him to his own devices.

An enchanting female giggled. “It’s clear he’s an errand boy from a small sect. Hand over your spirit stones and treasures if you want to leave.”

Spirit stones were usually used to supply spiritual qi when cultivating as it could boost the rate of progress. Uncle An always placed several in the main hall for them if they needed it. Mu Yu used one when he ascended to Foundation Establishment. Otherwise, he never used them.

The only treasures Mu Yu had were his Shadow Splitter Sword and meagre silver ingots Village Chief Bu gave him. Indeed, he still couldn’t bear to spend the silver ingots.

There was a spirit stone quarry out there. With that said, spirit stone quarries were rare. To ensure cultivators could have access to enough, Green Pine Sect invented a regulation – the annual sects’ tournament. Dustfallen Sect was always at the bottom when it came to rankings among the sects. They had no idea they mugged someone without a spirit stone. That aside, Dustfallen Sect was a sect living in poverty. Hoping they’d have large spirit stones was wishful thinking.

“I don’t have any spirit stones or treasures.”

Mu Yu was worried for the hostiles. The most skilled amongst them was the man with the beard. He was at Foundation Establishment Realm’s Second Layer. The woman was at the First Layer. The elder in yellow was only at Qi Condensation Realm Ninth Layer. The other three young cultivators were only at Qi Condensation Realm. Mu Yu was a layer higher than their best. The twins aside, Mu Yu was always the weakest. Hence, he didn’t expect to run into anyone weaker than him.

Mu Yu smirked, glad he had been paying his dues. He always valued potential so much that he underestimated the positives of sheer diligence. He never realised he progressed much faster than other cultivators because he wasn’t around many others to compare.

Mu Yu should’ve been more worried about locating Lan Ling’er because she was his compass, yet he lost track of her.

Bearded man: “You don’t? I’ll kill you and then search you! Zhang Zhong, get him!”

“Yes, Shifu!” courteously answered the elder attired in yellow.

“Shifu? I thought you were his shifu! You’re old enough to be his father!” exclaimed Mu Yu, forgetting seniority in the world of cultivation wasn’t based on age.

Zhang Zhong brayed, “Don’t you dare insult my shifu!”

Zhang Zhong whipped his fly-whisk. Mu Yu didn’t bother using his combat skills, simply giving it the slip. It was clear Zhang Zhong lacked talent judging from his cultivation progress. He obeyed the bearded man because he needed the guidance to even get to where he did.

“What do you mean? I never insulted him. I don’t want to fight.”

Mu Yu actually wanted to fight since he only sparred within safety parameters back on the mountain. He was curious how a real fight against another cultivator felt. Howbeit, Feng Haochen often reminded him to avoid physical altercations if they could be avoided. Most clashes in the world of cultivation ended in grievous wounds or death. They, after all, were literally enhanced humans.

“Good. That’ll save me trouble,” satirically responded Zhang Zhong.

Zhang Zhong swung again but spread the hairs. Alas, he lacked spiritual energy, so Mu Yu could’ve effortlessly defused the strike.

“But my shifu also said you don’t have to put up with all unreasonable people.” Mu Yu seemingly disappeared.

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