Chapter 326

Chapter 326: To Clear Your Name

Even without battle arts, their level made every strike a battle of intent. Each sword sought control. Each parry carried a prediction. They adjusted on instinct, answering move with move, pressure with pressure—control of sword technique, control of timing, control of the opponent.

Before a sword ever thrust, no one could be sure where it would land.

At the Sword Court, countless disciples stared in disbelief.

Someone in the same realm was matching Yuan Mu in swordplay.

That alone was absurd.

Even among Sword Court Roaming-Star Realm experts, most would still lose to Yuan Mu in pure swordsmanship.

So how was Wang Jie doing this?

In a dark valley far away, a pair of eyes watched the light screen meant for him alone.

Yuan Bai.

Yuan Bai of the Sword-Heart Devil Seed.

Almost no one understood how deep Wang Jie’s sword path ran.

Now everyone was forced to see it.

Even Hou Qing Ge’s gaze shifted as she watched. A Full-Star Realm cultivator from Beidou… matching Yuan Mu in control? If she didn’t rely on her supreme sword art, then in pure mastery of sword moves, even she would lose to Yuan Mu.

The duel continued, and Yuan Mu’s expression grew heavier by the breath.

He couldn’t suppress him.

No matter how he pressed, he couldn’t suppress him.

Why?

Yuan Mu’s advantage was clarity: he could “see” one sword and read three. Yet Wang Jie was doing the same. At first, Wang Jie lagged—a fraction behind, a heartbeat late—but he adapted with terrifying speed. Each exchange made him smoother, sharper, until he not only kept up but began to counter.

Yuan Mu felt it more clearly than anyone.

Wang Jie’s sword skill was improving right in front of him.

Wang Jie, meanwhile, was almost enjoying himself. He’d never practiced swordsmanship for its own sake. Everything he knew came from battle arts—functional, brutal, direct. Now, trading pure sword moves like this, he finally tasted the deeper rhythm beneath it.

So this was why people obsessed over swordplay.

Real combat made you grow.

Yuan Mu caught the flicker of a smile on Wang Jie’s face and irritation flared. Starforce surged through his blade, trying to crush the exchange through sheer power.

Enough.

He didn’t want to admit it, but Wang Jie’s comprehension of sword moves was horrifying—no worse than his own. If this continued, Yuan Mu would only be sharpening him.

If sword moves couldn’t suppress him, then starforce would.

Wang Jie cultivated lockforce, after all. By definition, his starforce should be lacking.

The starforce eruption shook the arena.

Everyone who knew Yuan Mu went rigid. He’d changed tactics.

That meant one thing: he couldn’t win the sword exchange cleanly.

The Sword Court disciples couldn’t understand it.

Hou Xiao could. She knew Wang Jie cultivated Zhong Yi’s sword arts. That Yi Sword Art looked like it had no formal moves, yet every step was a sword move. Rain Sword Art demanded control over every thread of sword qi. From the beginning, Wang Jie had been forced to master sword control the hard way.

Give him a chance—any chance—and his progress would leap.

Yuan Mu was the perfect sparring partner. Strong enough not to collapse, weaker than Yuan Bai, and proud enough to keep feeding Wang Jie experience.

Perfect.

The clash of steel deepened, turning heavier, harsher. Yuan Mu’s starforce poured out, and Wang Jie met it with lockforce—clean, abundant, unbroken.

Not only did Wang Jie not fall behind…

His lockforce was thicker.

He’d absorbed lockforce to a degree even a genius like Yuan Mu couldn’t match with starforce. Little by little, Yuan Mu’s starforce was pressed back.

Yuan Mu’s face hardened. Where was this much lockforce coming from?

Was this why the Star Vault Vista had given him enlightenment tea?

Then fine.

Yuan Mu’s voice cut through the noise. “Be careful. Next sword—your right arm.”

He rushed again.

Wang Jie turned and swept his blade across, meeting Yuan Mu’s strike head-on. Yuan Mu was proud. He didn’t sneak. If he said it, there was a reason.

Wang Jie kept Qi Sight trained on him—

Pain flared.

Blood splashed the arena.

Wang Jie looked down. A line had opened on his right arm.

He hadn’t seen the cut.

Yuan Mu turned, sword edge cold. “I told you. Right arm.” He didn’t pause. “Next sword—left arm.”

He struck again.

A bloody gash tore open on Wang Jie’s left arm.

Wang Jie’s brows knit. Still nothing. No flash. No speed spike.

Was it fast?

No.

It was slow.

The crowd wore the same baffled expression. They couldn’t see the decisive moment either.

Only those who had fought the Sword Court before understood.

“That’s the Sword Court’s secret technique—Delay.”

“Despicable,” someone spat. “It doesn’t delay the sword. It delays your response. If you can’t see through it, you’ll lose by a thousand cuts.”

“Next sword—your belly.”

Yuan Mu slashed, standing in place. Sword qi carved through the void and descended.

Wang Jie flicked his blade upward, dispersing the sword qi as he retreated—and still, a bloody line opened across his abdomen.

He froze for a heartbeat. I retreated. I should’ve been one step late at worst. Why did it still land?

At Black-White Heaven, the White Realm Lord leaned forward, voice low and grim. “The Sword Court truly is a monster rivaling the Jia Yi Sect. Their sword arts are strange… even when they’re dirty.”

“Next sword—your back.”

The sword qi swept.

Wang Jie moved differently this time. Instead of retreating, he shifted sideways and stepped into it—into the path of the blade.

Under the crowd’s stunned gaze, he passed through the sword qi and came out untouched.

Yuan Mu’s pupils tightened.

Wang Jie looked at him with surprise and a laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So the delay isn’t in your sword,” he said. “It’s in my own thinking.”

He lifted his blade slightly. “That’s the Sword Court’s sword art? Not bad.”

Yuan Mu’s smile returned, edged with approval. “I acknowledge you, Wang Jie. Seeing through it in three swords… no wonder you received enlightenment tea.”

Wang Jie’s lips curved. “Your trick’s done. My turn.” He leaned forward. “Let’s see if you can see through mine.”

He flashed forward on Sword Steps, closing the gap.

Yuan Mu frowned. “I don’t intend to get hurt fighting you.”

He let go.

His sword floated in the air—unnaturally still.

Then, when his hand closed around the hilt again, his body vanished.

Wang Jie thrust—empty.

He turned and slashed—empty again.

Yuan Mu drifted around him like a ghost, every dodge clean and impossible.

Wang Jie had Qi Sight active. Yuan Mu wasn’t using any footwork battle art. And yet he avoided every strike as if he knew where the blade would be before it moved.

Wang Jie switched to Jia Eight Steps and chased, forcing speed and angles.

It didn’t matter.

Yuan Mu kept slipping away, smooth as a shadow, as though Wang Jie’s every move had already been read.

“What is that footwork?” someone shouted.

“It’s not footwork,” another answered, voice tense. “It’s sword art—Path-Guiding Sword.”

“The Sword Court’s secret art. No one’s mastered it in ages. They say at its peak, Path-Guiding Sword has no flaw to exploit. It’s as famous as Sword-Heart Devil Seed. Yuan Mu’s reputation comes from this.”

“And yet the Star Vault Vista didn’t give him enlightenment tea?”

“Who knows. Put Yuan Mu in the previous Full-Star Realm tournament and he’d be top ten easily. He would’ve gotten enlightenment tea then. This time they only gave seven cups—people say the leaves were scarce…”

No matter how Wang Jie pressed, Yuan Mu kept evading.

Wang Jie stopped.

Rain began to fall.

At first, it looked natural—until the raindrops slid along invisible edges. Sword qi formed a curtain. The rain itself became blades, carving toward Yuan Mu from every direction.

Yuan Mu still slipped through the gaps.

Then a sword floated up.

A second.

A third.

Until six blades hovered in the rain, each one feeding the downpour of sword qi.

Luo Kui stared, stunned.

Hou Xiao stared too.

Six swords… Rain Sword Art.

So Wang Jie had been hiding even this.

The rain thickened until it filled the world. Even Path-Guiding Sword couldn’t evade everything. Cuts began to bloom across Yuan Mu’s skin—face, wrists, shoulders—thin wounds stacking into misery. His clothes shredded into tatters.

Wang Jie stood still, eyes closed, as if listening.

You can dodge a few drops. Not the storm.

There was only one way out.

Enter the void.

But that was Bu Zou Guan’s path. That was the Void Mountains’ domain.

Yuan Mu endured until his patience snapped. He stabbed his sword into the ground.

Sword qi erupted.

The rain curtain was ripped apart by countless lines of force, torn open in harsh slashes. Yuan Mu gripped the hilt and shoved sideways.

All the stored sword light surged, covering Wang Jie and crashing down.

Wang Jie’s eyes snapped open.

Madam Yuan’s Bridgeway Art—Time-Scar Sword Traces.

He’d read about it before coming here. It wasn’t a battle art meant for killing. It was an art meant for practicing sword. It preserved past sword light as residual shadows. No matter how much time passed, those traces could remain.

That, more than anything, was the foundation of the Sword Court.

Rumor said the Sword Court housed endless sword lights left behind by older sword masters. It looked like the Jia Yi Sect’s Martial Hall, but it wasn’t the same. The Martial Hall preserved only shadow projections for cultivation methods and battle arts. Time-Scar Sword Traces preserved power and sword intent—like watching the past swordsman demonstrate in person.

Yuan Mu was reproducing his earlier sword light to disrupt Rain Sword Art.

Wang Jie lifted a finger. Myriad-Stars Finger.

Countless finger shadows erupted within the rain, smashing into the descending sword light. Yuan Mu’s eyes narrowed. He could tell Rain Sword Art was a chen art—yet Wang Jie had another chen art on top of it.

Swordsmanship. Chen arts. Comprehension. Strength. Lockforce.

Wang Jie had no obvious weakness.

Yuan Mu felt something sour and unfamiliar in his chest: helplessness.

His opponent should have been another enlightenment tea recipient. Someone like Shao Gu Chen. Someone like Wu Ming.

The Star Vault Vista’s judgment was viciously accurate.

Wang Jie hadn’t received enlightenment tea without reason.

But still—

Yuan Mu tightened his grip. He had to win.

He reversed his grip and drove forward. Myriad-Stars Finger and Time-Scar Sword Traces tore the rain curtain apart, scattering the storm.

Then Yuan Mu looked up.

His gaze deepened until it no longer looked human.

Sword phantoms appeared in each pupil. His sight stretched outward, and everything it touched seemed to peel away, as if reality itself were being stripped down to the edge of a blade. Even the air rippled into the shape of swords.

Wang Jie tried to move, and the ripples around him sharpened, turning hostile—thin, invisible pressure that made his breath catch.

It wasn’t a sword he recognized.

But the people of the ancient sword bridge-pillar went pale.

That sword phantom—

It was the shattered sword that pierced their entire bridge-pillar.

The Sword Court erupted into stunned whispers.

“Where did Yuan Mu learn that?”

“That’s not ours.”

“Ancient Sword… that’s the Ancient Sword’s foundation.”

“Did he gain it by observing the Ancient Sword?”

“Rumor says the Ancient Sword seeks out a fated one and bestows sword arts. Yuan Mu must be a fated one!”

“If the Sword Court can control the Ancient Sword… we’ll be unstoppable…”

Only the ancient sword bridge-pillar truly understood the weight of what was happening.

And Wang Jie understood it too.

A chill wrapped around him, deep and wordless. The air felt as if an invisible sword had crossed the void and leveled its tip at his throat. He couldn’t see it, couldn’t measure it—yet his instincts screamed that a blade was aimed at him.

Ancient Sword.

Yuan Mu spoke slowly, voice hollowed by the sword phantoms in his eyes. “No one knows this sword art, because I’ve never used it in public. If they did… that enlightenment tea would have been mine.”

He took a breath, the sword pressure tightening. “Wang Jie. You forced this move out of me. You are worthy of enlightenment tea.”

His smile sharpened into cruelty. “Today, I’ll clear your name. And I’ll eliminate you. I’ll shatter your ignorant arrogance.”

He lifted his blade.

“You should feel honored.”

Then he thrust.