Chapter 522 The Emperor's Killing Intent
"Issue my decree!" Zhao Yan's eyes flashed with cold light. "From this day forward, the Embroidered Uniform Guard and the Eastern Depot will do everything in their power to track down the whereabouts of 'Sword God' Shen Mo! At the same time, have the Huangfu family secretly contact forces in the martial arts world who are dissatisfied with the Martial Alliance, offering them great rewards. If necessary..." He paused, a cruel smile curling at the corner of his mouth, "Let them get started."
"Furthermore," he said, turning to an elderly man with white hair and beard—a grandmaster of martial arts whom he had hired at great expense from the Southern Region—"Master, the plan you mentioned earlier can begin. I want the world to know that the true pinnacle of martial arts lies not in any martial arts alliance, but in the Forbidden City, where the Emperor resides!"
The old man bowed and accepted the order, a glint of shrewdness flashing in his eyes. He knew that the "plan" the emperor spoke of was to integrate all the martial arts in the world and, based on the countless elixirs and classic texts in the royal archives, create an "Emperor's Guard" that would be loyal only to the imperial power.
Once this force is fully formed, the so-called "brotherhood" of the martial arts alliance will be utterly ineffective in the face of absolute imperial power and military might.
The surface of the river remained calm, shimmering and reflecting the blue sky and white clouds.
But who could have imagined that deep beneath the water, a giant python named "Royal Power" was already quietly opening its blood-red maw, preparing to completely devour this seemingly free body of water?
......
The nights in Nanjing are always bustling.
On the Qinhuai River, the pleasure boats were filled with the sounds of music and singing, and the heroic words of the heroes and heroines in the taverns and teahouses never ceased.
However, amidst the myriad lights of these homes, no one knew that deep within the imperial city, thousands of miles away, a silent storm was brewing, targeting the entire martial arts world.
At this moment, the Martial Alliance is still immersed in the peace and order maintained by the new forces of the Martial Alliance—the two "Sword Queens"—after the departure of the "Sword God".
Yes, "Sword Queen".
These two words have long since replaced the somewhat frivolous "Four Beauties" of the past, becoming the highest respectful title that people in the martial arts world use to address Situ Meng and Murong Qing.
They are no longer just beautiful flowers, but pillars of the martial arts alliance, the anchors of stability.
Two years have passed since Shen Mo went to the far west.
During these two years, Situ Meng, as the wife of the Sword God, took charge of the alliance's laws and prisons. Her judgments were fair, just, and impartial, making those with ulterior motives tremble with fear.
Murong Qing, with his extraordinary wisdom and skill, coordinated the resources within the alliance, mediated the disputes between various factions, and managed the vast martial arts alliance in an orderly manner, making it operate like a sophisticated and efficient machine.
But what truly made them famous was the "Martial God Sword Technique" originating from the Tomb of the Martial God.
They did not disappoint Shen Mo's entrustment before his departure, and have mastered this peerless sword technique to perfection.
People in the martial arts world are always captivated by the mention of it.
People say that Situ Meng's sword is like the Milky Way hanging upside down from the sky, possessing both the gentle grace of a noble lady and the overwhelming power of killing; Murong Qing's sword, on the other hand, is like a lonely moon over a cold river, aloof and detached, yet secretly harboring the potential to ignite a prairie fire.
When the two of them stood side by side, they shone like the sun and moon, illuminating the entire land.
People in the martial arts world say that only a noble and powerful title like "Empress of Swords" is worthy of the "Sword God" who single-handedly turned the tide!
That night, the moonlight, like water, poured over the empty training ground of the Martial Alliance.
The daytime hustle and bustle faded away, leaving only the soft sound of the night wind rustling through the bluestone ground.
Situ Meng and Murong Qing had just finished dealing with a mountain of alliance affairs, and although they were exhausted, they were not sleepy at all.
They walked towards this place that held countless memories, as if by unspoken agreement.
"Qing'er, today you attack and I'll defend," Situ Meng said softly, her voice sounding particularly clear and melodious in the quiet night.
She slowly drew the Gongbu sword from her waist. As the sword emerged from its sheath, it emitted a long, drawn-out dragon's roar, as if a sleeping ancient dragon had been awakened.
Moonlight spilled onto the sword's spine, flowing with a chilling gleam, reflecting the long-lost, pure fighting spirit of a martial artist in her eyes.
Murong Qing nodded slightly, and with a flick of her wrist, the Tai'a sword appeared in her hand. This sword was not as domineering as Gongbu's, but rather more restrained and subtle. Its blade was like autumn water and solidified fat, and the cold light of its edge was concealed, just like the person she was.
She didn't say anything, but with a light tap of her foot, her figure glided gracefully into the arena like a willow leaf falling in the wind.
In an instant, two completely different yet equally powerful sword intents soared into the sky!
Situ Meng made the first move, her Gongbu sword transforming into a streak of silver light, aiming straight for Murong Qing's central palace.
This sword strike was as swift as a startled swan and as powerful as a thunderbolt; it was the opening stance of the "Martial God Sword Technique".
Before the sword even arrived, the overwhelming and unstoppable pressure had already caused the surrounding air to freeze.
Murong Qing remained calm and composed. With a slight tilt of his Tai'a sword, the tip trembled and drew a mysterious arc in the air, precisely aligning with the spine of the Gongbu sword.
With a crisp "clang," the sword strike, powerful enough to split mountains and shatter rocks, was deflected by her seemingly casual gesture, losing most of its force and involuntarily veering to the side.
"Good!" A glint flashed in Situ Meng's eyes. Far from being annoyed, her fighting spirit intensified.
With a flick of her wrist, the Gongbu sword instantly transformed into a shower of sword shadows, cascading down like a torrential rain of pear blossoms.
Each sword strike carried a piercing shriek that tore through the air, enveloping all of Murong Qing's vital points.
Faced with this fierce and relentless offensive, Murong Qing remained unperturbed, as if strolling in a leisurely garden.
Her figure weaved through the shadows of swords, each swing of the Tai'a sword perfectly blocking the opponent's path, whether by pointing, deflecting, or guiding; her movements were fluid and breathtakingly beautiful.
Under the moonlight, Situ Meng, dressed in a crimson outfit, was full of vigor and her sword flashed like lightning; while Murong Qing, dressed in a plain white dress, was exceptionally beautiful and had a graceful figure.
Their swordplay has long transcended a simple contest of moves; it is a silent dialogue about the ultimate principles of martial arts.
Sword energy crisscrossed, stirring up dust on the ground and forming visible ripples, yet strangely, it made no sound whatsoever, as if the heavens and earth were holding their breath, admiring this unparalleled dance of two beauties under the moon.
After several dozen moves, the two sheathed their swords and stood facing each other, their eyes filled with mutual respect and unbridled joy.
Fine beads of sweat glistened on their foreheads, their chests rose and fell slightly, but their eyes were brighter than ever.
The trials and tribulations of the past two years have not only honed their swordsmanship to perfection, but also made their will as firm as a rock.
Just then, a burst of applause suddenly rang out from the shadows at the edge of the training ground.
"Slap, slap, slap."
The applause wasn't loud; it was even deliberately softened, yet it struck like thunder, instantly shattering the tranquility between the two.
Situ Meng and Murong Qing turned around abruptly, their hearts almost stopping at that moment.
Their gazes were fixed on the entrance to the corridor, illuminated by the moonlight.
There stood a man.