The Twenty-Four War Swords

"Is the one coming truly so terrifying?" Xiao Chen asked, curious as to what kind of being could make even Yizhen—whose cultivation had advanced rapidly of late—change countenance. It must be something extraordinary.

Yizhen nodded gravely. "Legend says he is not from this world... we must... avoid him."

A blade of sword-light cut through the sky, swift and fierce as a falling star from beyond the heavens, leaving a dazzling streak of cold brilliance in its wake. Within the radiance was a small sword—exquisite, incomparably sharp, crystalline and nearly transparent. Everything had been wrought by this tiny weapon.

It was utterly unlike the swords seen on the Eternal Continent. Too delicate, barely the length of a palm and a finger's width across, shorter than a dagger. Yet the energy it contained was terrifying. Though far away, one could clearly feel the heart-shaking fluctuations.

Xiao Chen was not one to court trouble, but neither did he seek it unnecessarily. Together with Yizhen, he flew into the distance, watching from afar.

Swoosh.

The delicate, crystalline little sword flashed into the battlefield, tracing a perfect arc across the sky. In an instant, it tore through the firmament, then seemed to traverse space itself, emerging soundlessly from another direction to streak toward a celestial maiden of the Compassionate Sword Pavilion. The sword's speed was unimaginable. The maiden dodged several times, but each time the slender sword blocked her path.

Puff!

Blood sprayed. The peerless beauty, a fairy who could topple cities, was pierced through the body and fell from the sky. The little sword flew out of her stunning form and shot toward a golden-haired young expert of the Roman Empire who was gripping a golden war lance. He raised his lance to parry.

Clang! A crisp ring rang out. The golden lance was severed. The palm-sized sword spun around the broken shaft, then with a puff, it plunged into the golden-haired youth's right chest. Blood gushed forth. The wound went clean through from front to back. The youth screamed and plummeted.

Such methods instantly cowed everyone present. Two strokes had pierced two of the younger generation's strongest experts. The power was unfathomable, terrifying.

These young cultivators were hailed as the future hopes of the two empires—the mightiest of their peers. To have two of them run through so effortlessly... the display was so overwhelmingly dominant it bordered on perverse, chilling all who witnessed it.

The little sword turned again. With a whoosh, it shot toward a master from the Buddhist Kingdom of Fan. The man wielded a vajra pestle as thick as a pillar and weighing no less than a thousand jin, like half a door panel. Yet the little sword pierced it cleanly, leaving a terrifying hole in the massive weapon.

Puff!

Blood splattered. The sword sliced open the man's lower belly. With a cry, he fell from the sky.

All this happened in the blink of an eye. Too fast. The crowd stared, stunned, their hearts turned to ice. Then they understood: this fearsome being's strength was such that probably no one present could match him.

The little sword flipped and vanished, then tore through space from another direction to strike again.

Puff! Puff! Puff!

Blood sprayed. Three more experts—one from the Fan Kingdom, one from the Roman Empire, one from the Great Shang Empire—were struck from the sky.

The survivors instantly took flight, scattering in all directions. Against such an enemy, they were outmatched. The priority was to save their own lives.

Yizhen's expression darkened. "That peerlessly sharp little sword… it really does seem to belong to another world."

The little sword did not pursue the fleeing cultivators. Instead, it shot straight toward the Demon Plain, where it slashed out dozens of sword beams in all directions.

On the ground, it carved a massive, intricate pattern. In that instant, the pattern flared with blinding light. Then a sword beam erupted straight into the heavens—not from the little sword itself, but from the pattern on the earth. It was like a pillar of light linking heaven and earth, enormous as a mountain. Only from an extreme distance could one see that it was actually formed of countless sword beams.

Near the great pattern, several figures fled into the distance. They were the young experts who had been run through; the sword had not taken their lives, only gravely wounded them.

"He is driving everyone away. His goal is only this region... Could it be that after searching for so many years, he has finally found..." Yizhen's face had turned pale.

"What is it?" Xiao Chen pressed.

"He... most likely hails from another world," Yizhen said, his expression utterly grave. "In the time of my master's master's master, he was already appearing on the Demon Plain, searching for what he calls the Twenty-Four War Swords—a supreme treasure said to have been lost in this world. I think... he has found the location. The Twenty-Four War Swords are about to emerge. Could it be... that this world is about to fall into chaos? People from other worlds have reappeared..."

As Yizhen had said, twenty-four beams of sword qi shot up into the sky. Each was as thick as a mountain peak, so terrifyingly vast that they seemed to pierce through the clouds and bore into the endless heavens above.

Light shimmered and flowed. Multicolored radiance scattered across the sky. But the killing intent was tangible, making even the soul tremble.

Yizhen's face grew even paler. "How can this be... these patterns, these sword beams... they look exactly like the descriptions in an ancient scripture. That scripture is incredibly ancient, far older than my master's master's master. Could it be that the Twenty-Four War Swords have an even longer history and world-destroying power?"

"What ancient scripture recorded these things?" Xiao Chen asked.

"Remember when we were on Dragon Island, I suspected that Keke was one of the three or four heaven-defying divine beasts in the world? Those records come from the same ancient scripture."

Even in this moment, Xiao Chen was far more eager to learn Keke's origins than to dwell on the Twenty-Four War Swords. But Yizhen's ancient scripture was incomplete; it had no definite account of Keke.

"The Twenty-Four War Swords emerge, sweeping across the world..." A hoary voice resounded across the Demon Plain, shaking the air like thunder.

The twenty-four sword beams expanded without limit, like twenty-four mountains pressed together, spreading in an instant to the distant sky. Xiao Chen and Yizhen were forced to fly backward.

And at that moment, rays of multicolored light blossomed from Xiao Chen's body. The Seven-Colored Sacred Tree slowly emerged, seven shafts of radiance shooting into the sky, clashing with the twenty-four sword beams as if in contest.

Yizhen's expression shifted sharply. "Put away that treasure tree! We must leave this place immediately. This is a storm center. The Twenty-Four War Swords alone—just hearing that name—spells terror. If they truly emerge, they will certainly draw supreme beings to fight for them."

"Ya-ya, ya-ya..." The sound of the little white beast came from afar. Keke materialized above the Demon Plain, poking her head out with a sly, intelligent look. "Xiao Chen, Chen..." Her voice was soft and tender, very excited. She transmitted softly: "The first seal of the passage to the world of Paradise Lost is about to break open..."