Chapter 258: Atop the Mountains, There Is a Martial God
Chen Ping'an had a wooden token made from osmanthus wood hanging at his waist. On the front was carved a strange saying: "Born in the moonlight, bloom in the mortal world one by one." On the back was "Fan's Osmanthus Guest." "Osmanthus Guest" rather than "Honored Guest" was also strange, and this osmanthus wooden token that Fan Er had personally given to Chen Ping'an also had tiny characters secretly carved: "Friend of Fan Er." This was definitely Fan Er's handiwork, a fellow who would secretly hide two catties of dirt under his bed—he was capable of such things.
Soon someone appeared to welcome Chen Ping'an, arriving unhurriedly. As she walked, there was absolutely no hint of seductive allure. It was a middle-aged woman. Although she was only of average appearance, she had a very good temperament, elegant and tranquil. Chen Ping'an observed her aura and judged that she should be a mid-fifth-tier Qi refiner. She introduced herself as one of the nominal stewards of Osmanthus Island, and with a smile said that she took advantage of her age; Young Master Chen could call her Aunt Gui, Gui of the osmanthus. Chen Ping'an then called her Aunt Gui and said that this trip to Inverted Mountain would cause much trouble.
The woman smiled and shook her head. "We merchants never consider honored guests as trouble."
She pointed to the wooden token at Chen Ping'an's waist and explained, "With this Osmanthus Guest token, which only our family head can give, Young Master Chen can get a thirty percent discount on anything purchased on Osmanthus Island."
Then the woman couldn't help but smile, her warmth increasing a few degrees. "That little Fan Er sent a message to me, his aunt, so Young Master Chen can have another exception: a full forty percent discount."
Although Chen Ping'an nodded, he silently made up his mind that unless it was something he absolutely fell in love with at first sight, he wouldn't buy anything on this transcontinental journey. After all, if others treated you as a friend, you had to treat them as a friend too. True friendship and commerce—Chen Ping'an was not good at balancing the two.
Aunt Gui led Chen Ping'an toward a grand mansion called the Osmanthus Palace, introducing the local customs of Osmanthus Island along the way. She specifically mentioned osmanthus cakes and osmanthus seed wine, saying he must try plenty. His private courtyard already had them, so he should just ask the osmanthus maiden serving as his maid.
Chen Ping'an didn't refuse. He patted the Sword-Nurturing Gourd at his waist and said with a smile, "I like drinking."
The woman glanced at that "cinnabar-red wine gourd" and smiled. "That's good."
There were over a thousand osmanthus trees on Osmanthus Island. At the mountain peak stood the ancient ancestor tree, older than Old Dragon City itself, planted personally by a farmer immortal from the Central Plains Divine Continent. That Osmanthus Island could exist as a transcontinental ferry, enduring a thousand years without damage, and even slowly grew as the roots of the mountain osmanthus trees spread—thanks to the Fan family's unique method of adding soil—was all due to that ancestor osmanthus tree. The osmanthus wine sold by the Fan family, despite its exorbitant price, was still in demand without supply, because the brewing osmanthus was taken from a thousand-year-old osmanthus tree. The wealthy merchants and grand traders of Treasure Bottle Prefecture who were on good terms with the Fan family of Old Dragon City occasionally managed to buy some, using it for gifts or personal enjoyment.
After passing through the gate of Osmanthus Palace, Aunt Gui led Chen Ping'an through corridors and walkways. The courtyard was not extravagantly decorated, but rather in the style of small bridges and flowing waters. Finally, she brought him to a courtyard called "Gui Veins." Seeing Chen Ping'an look up and stare for a while, she explained, "Osmanthus are called 'gui' because their leaf veins resemble the ceremonial jade 'gui' of the Confucian scholars. This courtyard, though not large in area, is the best place on Osmanthus Island with the richest spiritual qi."
Chen Ping'an felt it was a waste. He wasn't a Qi refiner, so spiritual qi density meant nothing to him. Such a blessed cave heaven would be better rented out to someone else to earn money. He tentatively said, "Aunt Gui, I'm a pure martial artist. Giving this to me is a waste. Can I switch to another courtyard?"
The woman smiled gently. "It's not about money. Young Master Chen, rest assured and stay here. Given your relationship with our young master, I wouldn't be surprised if this place becomes your private courtyard in the future, and Osmanthus Island no longer opens to outsiders."
These two sentences struck Chen Ping'an's heart. Thinking of Fan Er, he felt at ease and walked into this elegant and tranquil Gui Veins courtyard.
A beautiful young girl was already waiting in the courtyard, standing gracefully, with a somewhat cold temperament. Even standing quietly, she had an impressive presence. But upon seeing the woman and Chen Ping'an, she immediately smiled at Chen Ping'an, a radiant smile, and said, "Young Master Chen, my name is Jin Su—gold of gold, millet of millet. In ancient books, it means osmanthus. From now on, I'll take care of your meals and daily needs."
That cold girl's smile had the charm of "when my flower blooms, all others wither."
Chen Ping'an was a bit restrained. He instinctively cupped his fists and returned the greeting, "Thank you, Miss Jin Su, for your trouble."
Then he felt a little lost. He took off his gourd and quickly took a drink.
The woman was good at reading people. She keenly sensed a slight change in the youth, but didn't dwell on it. All sorts of things happen in the world; it was normal for a youth to have some worries.
The woman took her leave, but at the door she saw an unexpected yet reasonable acquaintance: the old Fan family coachman who had driven them to Osmanthus Island. The woman asked with a smile, "Does that little Fan Er have more instructions?"
The old coachman seemed quite respectful toward Aunt Gui. He shook his head and smiled, "I'm here on the family head's orders to accompany Young Master Chen to Inverted Mountain. During that time, I'll likely be staying in the Gui Veins courtyard."
Aunt Gui's eyes showed even more surprise. She asked, "Should Jin Su stay somewhere else?"
The old coachman nodded. "That would be best. Let her choose a nearby courtyard and just bring meals over every day. No need to worry about other matters."
Although Aunt Gui was curious, she didn't say anything more. She turned and greeted Jin Su, whose expression remained normal, and they left together.
The old coachman didn't forget to remind her, "The family head requests another favor from Madam Gui: let some of the shade from that ancestor osmanthus tree at the peak extend over the Gui Veins courtyard, to prevent outsiders from prying."
Aunt Gui nodded. On Osmanthus Island, Jin Su, the maiden who had won first place among over a hundred osmanthus maidens, couldn't help turning her head to look at the old coachman and the straw-sandaled youth.
After Aunt Gui and Jin Su left the Gui Veins courtyard, a cool mountain breeze blew through, and tree shade fell over the courtyard—but only for a moment, after which the sunlight was bright again.
The old coachman, whom Fan Er called Grandpa Ma, faced Chen Ping'an and said frankly, "My name is Ma Zhi. I'm one of the honored guests of the Fan family. I'm a Golden Core realm sword cultivator, but my talent is not high, and my killing power is weak. Even against a fellow realm cultivator like Chu Yang of the Fu family, I'm no match. This time, I'm here on the family head's orders, but the family head was asked by Mr. Zheng of the Dust Medicine Shop to have me accompany Young Master Chen for sword testing."
When Chen Ping'an heard "Mr. Zheng," he knew this was one of Zheng Dafeng's rewards. He cupped his fists in salute for the second time in this small courtyard.
The old man smiled and nodded. "No rush. I'll stay in the side room of the courtyard. Today, Young Master Chen should rest well. Feel free to tour Osmanthus Island. Because starting tomorrow, when we begin sword testing, you may not have such leisure."
The old man walked toward a side room. After closing the door, he chuckled to himself, "If Mr. Zheng isn't joking, then this Fan family's hospitality on Osmanthus Island is a bit extreme. Can that young martial artist really withstand it? Even if I, Ma Zhi, am the weakest among my fellow Golden Core sword cultivators, I'm still at least a ninth-realm sword cultivator."
Saying this, a dark flying sword about a foot long emerged from his Qi-fu. After appearing, it began to slowly circle the old man, its sword aura thick, trailing streaks of black fireflies.
The room was filled with chilling sword aura. The summer heat vanished in an instant.
Chen Ping'an lived in the main house facing the courtyard gate. After closing the door, he carefully opened the bundle that Zheng Dafeng had left at the door.
Inside was a book with fresh ink fragrance, finely printed. The title was *Orthodox Swordsmanship*. It was very likely that Zheng Dafeng, using the Fan family's connections, had found a trustworthy bookshop and personally had it printed. Just the four characters of the title showed great skill, impossible to associate with the slovenly Zheng Dafeng.
Besides this *Orthodox Swordsmanship*, there was also an inconspicuous small cotton money pouch. He weighed it—not many coins, around a dozen. Chen Ping'an mistakenly thought they were minor Summer coins or Grain Rain coins. But when he opened it, he was so startled that he quickly covered the pouch. It was a pouch full of gold essence copper coins, coins that would make Grain Rain coins call them "big brother"! Chen Ping'an knew very well how precious gold essence copper coins were. How had he gotten the several mountains including Fallen Mountain? By casually tossing out gold essence copper coins!
Chen Ping'an didn't even count them or identify their types—were they offering coins? Spring-welcoming coins? Talisman-warding coins? Or all three? Without a second thought, he put them directly into his Sun Inch object.
Finally, there was only a jade token and a letter.
The jade token had no carvings or decorations—just a simple, square jade token. But the texture was fine, feeling like the finest silk when touched. It was clearly a very good antique. How good, Chen Ping'an couldn't tell with his current eyesight.
Chen Ping'an opened the envelope. The handwriting was indeed the same as the title of *Orthodox Swordsmanship*; it must be Zheng Dafeng's own handwriting. The letter explained several matters concisely. This sword manual was not lofty in its principles, but it represented the pinnacle of martial arts. The recorded sword techniques were all about returning to simplicity, very suitable for a single-minded person like Chen Ping'an to study and practice hard. The fifteen gold essence copper coins were repayment of five copper coins.
As for the jade token, Zheng Dafeng only wrote three words in the letter: "Sun Inch object."
Beyond that, there was no further introduction. No mention of origin, history, or how to use it.
But even just those three words were weighty enough.
When young Cui Chan had traveled to Great Sui, this Great Li national master had carried with him—a Sun Inch object.
At the end of the letter, Zheng Dafeng said that Ma Zhi accompanying him for sword testing was just a small bonus from three transactions. It was to help Chen Ping'an better adapt to the invisible "suppression" of a pure martial artist within the Sword Qi Wall. So the Golden Core sword cultivator Ma Zhi would unleash his destined flying sword, both to guide Chen Ping'an in swordsmanship and to teach him how to face a mid-fifth-tier sword cultivator.
Speaking of this, Zheng Dafeng became generous with his words, even adding a few lines about how one must endure hardship to rise above others. But even just holding the letter and reading those words, Chen Ping'an could imagine Zheng Dafeng's smug grin as he wrote. Chen Ping'an knew it well: Zheng Dafeng had heard about his third-realm training and didn't intend to let him have it easy in the fourth realm. He figured Zheng Dafeng was secretly laughing in the Dust Medicine Shop right now, thinking of how Chen Ping'an would suffer on Osmanthus Island—that guy must be drinking cold water as if it were fine wine.
Otherwise, the old sword cultivator wouldn't have told Chen Ping'an to finish touring Osmanthus Island today.
This trap Zheng Dafeng had dug, Chen Ping'an had to jump into.
He put away the sword manual and the jade token. The Sun Inch object could also be stored in the Sun Inch object.
Chen Ping'an couldn't help thinking of He Xiaoliang from the Divine Contract Sect. She had so many Sun Inch and Sun Inch objects—a dazzling array.
But thinking of this Daoist nun, whose first impression had been so good, now only left a heavy shadow over Chen Ping'an's heart.
Chen Ping'an exhaled a turbid breath and went out to tour Osmanthus Island.
Looking down from the peak, the ferry had not yet set sail. At the foot of the mountain, many Qi refiners were still boarding in succession.
Withdrawing his gaze, Chen Ping'an looked into the distance. On three sides, there was only the magnificent sight of boundless sea, making one feel both relaxed and joyful yet tiny within it.
Chen Ping'an remembered something.
About the word "strongest."
The old man surnamed Cui in the bamboo tower had said that Chen Ping'an's third realm was the strongest third realm under heaven.
Not just in Treasure Bottle Prefecture.
Later, in casual conversation, Zheng Dafeng mentioned this and also said that Li Er had once been the strongest ninth-realm martial artist with the deepest foundation. But now that Li Er had broken into the tenth realm, Chen Ping'an guessed that Li Er had temporarily lost that "strongest" title.
Chen Ping'an gazed into the distance. As Cui Chan had told him, this Grand All-Heaven world was vast, with five lakes and four seas and nine continents: Treasure Bottle, Julu, Baibai, Hindu, Golden Armor, and others, like stars surrounding the moon, surrounding the largest Central Plains Divine Continent. And the Central Plains Divine Continent itself had several great dynasties. Only by annexing half of Treasure Bottle Prefecture could Great Li's territory compare to theirs.
Chen Ping'an couldn't help thinking about one question.
The legendary eleventh realm of martial arts, the Martial God—did it exist under heaven?
Young Cui Chan had only grinned and gave no answer.
---
Golden Armor Prefecture.
At an ancient battlefield ruin where spiritual qi was extremely thin, colossal divine statues that had once stood dozens or even hundreds of feet tall had all collapsed, none spared, stretching out like a fragmented mountain range.
This place had become a natural forbidden zone for Qi refiners of the entire prefecture.
Gusts of sudden, unpredictable windstorms swept through heaven and earth. For mid-fifth-tier Qi refiners below the Earth Immortal and Golden Core levels, it was like a knife scraping bone.
At one of the most majestic fallen broken Buddha statues—apparently a Buddha statue with a smile holding a flower before falling—when it crashed down, its arm broke at the shoulder, the entire arm lying across the ground. The flower the Buddha's fingers had pinched was long since crushed. Only three fingers remained on the hand. One finger pointed upward, and that single finger was over ten feet tall. One could imagine how massive that statue must have been when intact.
A barefoot white-robed girl stood on that finger, eyes closed, hands forming seals, facing the wind.
The girl had an ordinary face, like any common girl from the market streets.
A windstorm came, surging like a tide toward that finger and the girl standing on its tip.
The girl didn't open her eyes. Her lips moved slightly, and she said softly in a local dialect of Golden Armor Prefecture, "Open."
The windstorm split in two, as if cleaved down the middle, roaring past both sides of the Buddha finger. Only a few wisps slipped through, brushing the girl's cheeks. In an instant, cut lines appeared on her face, but they healed immediately.
The wind blew past the girl, carrying the scent of orchids.
---
Near the waters of Julu Prefecture, atop a great mountain shaped like an awl piercing the sky. Only the summit was a circular depression, bowl-shaped, like a well, bottomless, yet faint firelight reflected on its walls. Inside the "well" of this active volcano, a burly man sat cross-legged on a dark reef, completely naked, one hand propping up his cheek, pondering silently. Around him, rolling flames and magma, waves of heat surging, but the man seemed unaware.
The man had natural double pupils.
He looked troubled, muttering, "This Golden Body realm threshold is a bit hard to break. I have to blame myself for eating too many magical elixirs. Two hundred catties? Or three hundred? I guess after reaching the Golden Body realm, I can't stupidly eat that stuff like food anymore. Not to mention having to shit every day—that's troublesome. If it gets out, it'll really damage the reputation of a sixth-realm martial artist."
A sharp flying sword silently stabbed down from the well opening. The burly man collapsed limply and slid into the sea of fire.
That destined flying sword, no different in size from a sword cultivator's sword, didn't stop. It rapidly flew around the well walls of the crater, sending countless rocks tumbling into the fire sea.
If this were elsewhere in North Julu Prefecture, given the sword owner's cultivation and the sword's sharpness, it would have already pierced a mountain. But here, cutting through the well wall rocks was extremely difficult.
A long-robed old man carrying a sword on his back stood at the crater's edge. After his sword struck the double-pupiled man, the old man's voice thundered through the well, "Finally found you, you damnable bastard! Don't play dead—I know you're tough. Doesn't matter. You chose this dead end where there's no escape. After you die here, bones never found, maybe your sins will be somewhat reduced."
The old man raised two fingers, brought them behind his shoulder, and lightly touched the sword hilt.
The sword left its sheath, shot into the clouds, then plunged downward, straight from the crater into the sea of fire. When the sword entered the lava, there was a thunderous roar, splashing flames several feet high.
In the sea of fire, a blurry shadow swiftly swam, and the sword, like a harpoon, stabbed fiercely again and again.
At the four corners of the volcano, people were slowly climbing. An old Daoist posted talismans one by one on rocks. A monk formed hand seals and lightly patted the ground. Someone held a scroll that seemed endless, pulling it up from the foot of the mountain like a ground cover. And an old man in a green robe, holding a brush, was painting on the ground, writing sentence after sentence of Confucian sages' teachings.
On the summit, while trying to kill the villain with his flying sword, the old man said to himself, "I, a dignified Golden Core sword cultivator, chasing a mere martial artist who hasn't even reached the seventh realm, yet need to go through all this trouble."
Thinking of those tragic events—not just his own sect's disasters, but countless unjust deaths both on and off the mountain—this Golden Core sword cultivator was furious. "You kill just for pleasure! You don't deserve to live! Dying a hundred times isn't enough to atone!"
---
Two armies faced each other, war drums thundering.
In one great army, on a hastily built high platform, a brocade-clad man lay lazily on a couch. He looked under thirty. Two stunningly beautiful young women sat at either end of the couch. One massaged the young man's temples, the other bent over gently tapping his calf.
What was even more bizarre was that behind the man stood a general's standard, flapping loudly in the wind.
One beauty of peerless appearance, acting as a maid, carefully tapped the brocade-clad man's outer calf. She glanced at the other woman and said with a coquettish smile, "Young Master, I hear the enemy camp has an eighth-realm sword cultivator and a ninth-realm military strategist backing them. Seems Miss Xiexiu's ex-husband really loves her, getting so angry for a beauty. How touching. Young Master, why not return Xiexiu to him? Reunion after separation would be a good story. Besides..."
At this point, the seductive beauty raised a hand to cover her laugh, "Besides, Young Master has already tasted Miss Xiexiu quite enough. And she's narrow-minded, never willing to share favors with sisters. Wouldn't that spoil Young Master's fun? Is there any servant girl so unreasonable under heaven?"
The other beauty, called Xiexiu, acted as if she hadn't heard, only gently pressing her thumbs against the young man's temples, massaging carefully.
The brocade-clad man smiled with narrowed eyes. "Xiexiu is shy. This Young Master cherishes her. As for you, you can take the rough stuff. If this Young Master foolishly cherishes you too much, always gentle, wouldn't you rebel?"
The woman tapping his legs was full of spring charm, raising her eyebrows slightly at Xiexiu.
The latter seemed oblivious to the provocation.
The brocade-clad man lightly lifted his foot. "Take off Young Master's boots!"
The woman's eyes instantly burned with passion. She knelt before the couch, her hands trembling as she removed the two boots.
The man sat up and stretched. "Our Fuyang Prefecture is only a bit bigger than Treasure Bottle Prefecture. How boring."
He was barefoot. Reaching his hand into the woman Xiexiu's collar, he pulled out a golden ball warm from her body. Gently pinching it, he instantly donned a silver battle armor often mistaken for a military god's Dew-Collecting Armor. The peculiar thing was that the armor was covered in various scars, and over the heart was a small hole as if pierced by a sword.
Putting on this nameless armor, the young man slowly walked forward a few steps. Then he turned to Xiexiu and said with a smile, "Your ex-husband is inferior to me in everything, except one thing I can never catch up to him: telling jokes."
He extended one arm, pointing toward the enemy's standard in the distance, the corner of his mouth curling up. He said to the woman, "For example, inviting a sword cultivator and a military strategist—your young master almost died laughing."
The beauty who had taken off his boots sat on the ground, leaning against the couch, holding her belly and laughing, full of charm.
The young man faced the enemy army and laughed up to the sky. "Other men's wives and concubines are good; other families' widows are even better!"
The man in frost-white armor shot up into the sky, flying directly over his own army's cavalry formation, like a white rainbow across the sky above thousands of troops.
---
The northernmost part of Baibai Prefecture. Endless snow and ice, blizzards raging, no sun or sky visible.
Someone was wrapped in a white marten fur cloak. Occasionally, the wind pressed the cloak tightly against their body, revealing a slender figure. Under a large fur hat pulled low, a pair of bright eyes showed.
At the waist hung a saber in a black scabbard, only a small part of the scabbard visible.
From time to time, a hand would emerge from the fur cloak, thumb gently rubbing the saber's hilt.
A wrist was exposed, like a jade lotus root, whiter than snow, and translucent.
It was probably a young woman.
Yet she dared to walk alone in this bone-chilling land of ice and snow. In Baibai Prefecture, the northernmost of the nine continents, she walked at the very north of Baibai.
Even a Golden Core Qi refiner wouldn't be so reckless as to travel north alone.
The woman took out a hard-as-iron steamed bun, bit and swallowed, her gaze always fixed ahead.
This extreme cold zone of Baibai Prefecture was desolate, but great demons often appeared, taking advantage of the terrain and climate to be extremely troublesome. Except for sword cultivators, Golden Core cultivators didn't want to come here and tangle with those cunning and treacherous demon beasts. Once they provoked the masses, they would be surrounded, with no one to turn to.
The woman stopped walking. She had just finished the steamed bun.
Ahead, through the blizzard mist, a huge wolf head slowly emerged.
When it appeared, within a hundred zhang, the wind and snow suddenly stopped.
The woman adjusted her fur hat, lifted her head, and faced the wolf as tall as a small hill.
She burped.
Then just one slash.
After a moment, with nothing unusual in heaven and earth, she had already sheathed her saber.
She continued forward, smiling. "Borrow your head for a while, exchange for some cosmetic money."
By the time she reached the snow wolf, the great demon had just toppled like a mountain.
Looking at the huge head she had cut off with one slash, she was a bit troubled—a head this big, did she have to carry it back herself?
So she turned to look into the distance through the wind and snow, raising a hand to greet, "You, come here. Help me take this head back. Spare your life. As a reward, the remaining body of the snow wolf is all yours."
After that, the woman returned through the snowstorm, followed by a mountain-moving ape holding the bloody wolf head with both hands.
Near the headless snow wolf corpse, several great demons stirred, secretly salivating, but none dared cross the line.
---
The Grand All-Heaven world has five lakes and four seas, each vast in territory.
On a sunken "land subsidence" map, it had been submerged by a great lake.
At the bottom of the lake was an ancient battlefield site. A man was hunting lingering spirits, catching them and putting them into a small fish basket at his waist.
---
Above a great sea, so high it seemed one could reach the canopy of the Grand All-Heaven world by raising a hand. Here, there were two layers of surging cloud seas, separated by over a hundred li. In the upper cloud sea, there was a negligible gap. A thin, long-browed old man sat cross-legged beside a cloud well, holding a vivid green fishing rod but with no fishing line.
On the lower cloud sea, about seventy or eighty li from the old man, a large group of cloud whales flew by.
The old man made a casting motion. At the tip of the green bamboo fishing rod, reflected in the sunlight, a silvery white line was faintly visible, extremely thin.
The line tied around one of the cloud whales, several li long. The cloud whale, born with divine strength, began to struggle violently.
The old man yanked the rod backward, standing up as the rod bent into a shocking arc. He laughed heartily, "Good! Quite strong!"
They struggled for the time it takes to burn an incense stick. The old man ran around on the cloud sea holding the rod, cursing and swearing, very comical.
For a pure martial artist to fly, one must be at least in the eighth realm.
Even an eighth-realm martial artist could easily kill a cloud whale, and even face a group of cloud whales would be a sure win.
But the wonder of the old man's fishing lay in forming a thread-thin fishing line from his true qi, using it alone to contend with a cloud whale's divine strength without breaking—that was the most astonishing thing.
Pure martial artists are powerful precisely in their purity.
---
Central Plains Divine Continent. A behemoth that had once been one of the nine great dynasties of the Grand All-Heaven world was now destroyed, its dynasty cut off.
Generally, to destroy such a large dynasty, one would need an even larger existence among the nine great dynasties.
But this time, that was not the case.
In the fallen capital city, within the smoke-filled magnificent imperial palace, a single rider moved slowly. Wherever they passed, warriors and soldiers retreated like a tide.
This rider rode directly toward the palace hall famous across the nine continents.
The warhorse did not ascend via the stairs on either side of the dragon wall. Instead, its hooves directly stepped onto the dragon wall, like a wild horse climbing a hillside.
The rider was tall, clad in golden battle armor covering their face with a visor.
They held a spear covered with talismans and flowing golden light, much longer than ordinary battlefield iron spears.
The mount was a dragon steed descended from a dragon, extraordinary and rarely seen.
The rider also had a sheathed sword hanging at their waist. The sword was blunt, covered in rust, with two vague ancient seal characters worn away.
Before riding into the palace hall, this general who had achieved the feat of destroying a nation suddenly raised an arm high, extending a middle finger toward the sky.
After making this gesture, the rider seemed to wait for a response from the heavens, but the clouds were light and the wind calm. After reining in and stopping for a moment, the rider lightly spurred the horse and continued forward. As the horse's hooves crossed the palace threshold, the rider's line of sight ended at the dragon throne, said to be the rarest under heaven.
The general lowered their head and looked at the un-sheathed sword.
They had heard the scabbard was left in that small place, Treasure Bottle Prefecture. Should someone be sent to retrieve it, or should they go themselves?
The general removed the visor and helmet.
A cascade of black hair poured down.
She, not he.
A female Martial God.