No one knew how much time had passed when two lithe, masked women slipped into the chamber. Their figures were all grace and steel. They glanced once at Chaos's corpse on the floor; neither face showed the slightest ripple.
"Chaos is dead," one said coolly. "We must inform the lord."
With that, both figures flickered—and vanished.
---
"What… happened here?" Rong gasped the moment they emerged from the city's core. Mohist disciples lay scattered everywhere, limbs askew. A faint miasma hung in the air, glinting oddly in the sun.
"Poison!" Rong clapped a hand over her mouth and nose at once. Da Siming and Yue Shen also circulated their energy, sealing off the invading toxin.
Goku and the other women remained unchanged. For them—especially Xue Nu and the rest—Goku's training (and more) had long since reshaped their bodies; a hundred poisons meant nothing.
"Poison of Thousand Nights—it's activated," Goku said softly, surveying the fallen. Because Rong had been with him, he hadn't left the Mohists the Hundred-Herb Pill as an antidote. Now almost the entire city had been dosed—and then netted in one sweep.
He cast his senses outward. The Mechanism City's streets crawled with Qin elite. "The city's effectively fallen."
"What?!" Rong blanched. "Master Ban, Xiao Gao—what about them?"
"They're poisoned as well… but they'll live," Goku replied. "Come. The real show's starting."
---
In the grand hall, Mohist disciples lay strewn like felled wheat. Wei Zhuang stood at the fore, gaze locked on Gai Nie, who faced him with sword in hand. At Wei Zhuang's side stood General Meng Tian; behind, three of Zhao Gao's Six Sword Slaves—Zhengang, Duanshui, and Wangliang—the twins Zhuanpo and Miehun absent, Chaos already dead. Rows of Qin soldiers formed a cold wall at their backs.
On the Mohist side, only three still stood steady: Gai Nie, Tianming, and Shaoyu. Xiao Gao sat cross-legged, forcing out poison for Master Ban. Dao Zhi and the others knelt in meditation, holding the toxin at bay.
Gai Nie allowed himself a small breath of relief at Tianming's clear eyes. So this is what sir Goku meant by blessing and calamity twined… The Seal of Slumber blocks even deadly poison. Leaving it intact—for now—was the right call.
Tianming nudged Shaoyu's shoulder with a grin. "Didn't expect you to share my constitution, little brother—poison-proof. Not bad!"
Shaoyu sniffed. "You're just relying on that curse mark. I'm resisting on my own." He lowered his voice, excitement bubbling. "But Brother Goku's manual really works—it shuns a hundred poisons! From now on, I'm truly immune. Envious? Also—you're my little brother."
"That strong? Shaoyu, how about we—negotiate?" Tianming wheedled.
"Nope. I know that look. Brother Goku was clear: this art must not be passed around. Sorry, kid." Shaoyu clapped his shoulder.
"Tch. Brother Goku's biased—gives you a great manual and hands me a swordbook I can't read…" Tianming muttered.
"Tianming, mind your manners," Gai Nie said, stern. "That sword manual is the world's apex. Master it, and its power will be beyond imagining."
Tianming's eyes lit up. "So… you mastered it, Uncle?"
"No." Gai Nie shook his head slightly. "It's too profound. I've only touched the threshold."
"Even you haven't figured it out?" Tianming gaped.
Wei Zhuang's voice cut in like ice. "Senior brother—so calm, even now."
"Xiao Zhuang," Gai Nie answered, face unreadable. Yuanhong lifted, pointing straight at his foe. "Then come."
Zheng—
Wei Zhuang's Shark-Tooth flared with a sheath of blood-red inner force. He slashed.
Ding—! Steel shrieked. Yuanhong gleamed with cool blue light; Shark-Tooth bled crimson. Force crashed into force—hair lifted in the gale of it.
"Hah!"
They broke, then snapped back in a blur—cross-cuts like lightning, sword-light raining in overlapping arcs. Each stroke was lethal; every angle, refined to inevitability.
One dominated; the other flowed. Same school, different roads—meeting meant blood.
Wei Zhuang's blade was tyrannical, kill on contact. Gai Nie's sword was airy and unbound, beauty in motion. In mere breaths they traded a dozen dazzling exchanges.
Gai Nie twisted; Yuanhong slipped from his hand, arcing like a living thing as he spun and caught it again, scything a horizontal wave of qi.
Wei Zhuang snorted. He knew his senior's rhythm better than anyone. Shark-Tooth rose like a wall, drank the force, then he pivoted—hair whipping, aura spiking—before chopping down in a brutal vertical cleave at Gai Nie's brow.
Ding! Sparks fountained as Yuanhong met it midair; the two swords slid past as their wielders crossed like twin meteors.
Yuanhong spun loose again; Gai Nie stepped, reclaimed the hilt, and hurled a slicing torrent. Wei Zhuang, rushed, could only brace—Shark-Tooth caught the edge, and both men halted back-to-back.
Scarlet welled along Wei Zhuang's wrist and pattered to the floor.
---
Wei Zhuang raised his hand and looked at the blood with a wolfish grin. "Senior brother… you've improved."
Shark-Tooth thrummed—vmmm—and became a streaking red arc. He vaulted in low, speed surging, and swept for Gai Nie's midline.
But this was not the tale from before: no black Kirin masquerading as Tianming to skewer Gai Nie; no panic over Rong's injury. Gai Nie's heart was a still lake—his peak state.
"Such force…" Xiao Gao's eyes narrowed as he worked over Master Ban. "His understanding of the sword has climbed again."
Gai Nie didn't move as Wei Zhuang closed. Only the radiance over Yuanhong grew brighter, brighter—
Wei Zhuang's brow creased, but he did not relent. The air itself seemed to tremble under his killing edge; blood-light leapt as he rose, then chopped straight down like a falling mountain.
Gai Nie's face was grave and still. His eyes tightened; breath sharpened; Yuanhong's light blazed—and a boundless pressure erupted from the blade. He cut across.
Clang!
Wei Zhuang's avalanche shattered; force hammered his guard and skidded him back across the floor.
Yuanhong sang. Gai Nie flashed forward, horizontal slash hissing for Wei Zhuang's throat. Shark-Tooth snapped up to bar it; the duel ripped free of the ground, the two suspended for a heartbeat—then drifting apart, still trading bright, biting lines.
Expressionless, Gai Nie spun; cold light poured from Yuanhong, unending.
Once, this was where Wei Zhuang lost. Not today. He dropped his stance, letting whole sheets of blade-qi shear over him, and when Yuanhong's edge came for his wrist, Shark-Tooth slipped free, whirled, and leapt obediently back into his hand as he arched away—cleanly breaking his senior's relentless sequence.
Gai Nie paused, eyes narrowing. "That technique is…"
"What's wrong, senior brother? Surprised to see your favorite form wielded by someone else?" Wei Zhuang's voice was calm, arrogance returned. "That's not all I've learned."
"If you don't bring out your true skill," he added softly, "you'll lose your chance."
"Go back, Xiao Zhuang," Gai Nie said, voice suddenly very quiet.
"How amusing." Wei Zhuang's mouth tilted. "You look as if you're certain you can win. You left Ghost Valley. You left the world. You left everything… to protect this rabble?"
"And you—who refuse to give up anything—what have you gained?"
The air tightened.
Swords lifted.
Wind screamed. Clouds reeled. Two auras roared up and collided in a thunderhead that made the hall itself groan. Sword-song rose like dragons howling to the vault—terrible, exultant.
The storm between them only grew.
___
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