I Have the Martial Arts Heavenly Eye in the Storm Riders

"In terms of techniques, I've learned a whole bunch of miscellaneous skills, such as Ten Thousand Swords Return to One, Snow Blood Claw, and Dry Ice Palm, and I'm especially good at ice-based techniques."

"A towering cliff, piercing the clouds, transforms ice into a blade, shooting straight into the sky."

"The 'Emperor's Heavenly Thunder' turns ice into lightning, and when it hits you, it feels like being struck by lightning."

Jiang Chen paused, his tone slightly solemn:

"But none of that matters. What's most troublesome about him are his two life-saving techniques."

"Firstly, the 'Recovery of Divine Power'—a special physique granted by the Phoenix Blood, which allows one to automatically heal from even the most severe injuries, essentially making one an immortal being."

"Secondly, the 'Seven Invincible Realms'—the ability to transform the body into particle form, disperse it into the void, and recombine it at will. It cannot be hit or injured; it is immune to all physical and internal energy attacks."

"This is outrageous!!" You Ruo couldn't take it anymore and slammed her hand on the table.

"If you can't kill it, fine, but you can't even touch it? What's the point of fighting then? Let's just sit down and have a drink!"

Jiang Chen was amused by the way she slammed her hand on the table:

"Why are you in such a hurry? Your husband is still sitting right here, what are you afraid of?"

"That's true."

You Ruo thought for a moment, then sat back down with a clear conscience, and even picked up Duan Lang's wine bowl and took a sip.

Duan Lang's lips twitched, but he remained silent.

"And one more thing." Jiang Chen looked at Duan Lang's expression, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"His strongest trump card is the Sacred Heart Four Calamities."

"'Shocking Calamity' - from tens of feet away, without even lifting a finger, the cold glint of his eyes alone can blast those with insufficient willpower into ice shards."

"'Evil Blood Calamity' uses blood to draw blood, causing your blood to boil and flow backwards throughout your body, leading to your death from blood loss."

"'Heavenly Tribulation'," Jiang Chen paused, his tone becoming more solemn.

"This move is extremely insidious. It can make your heartbeat synchronize with his—if he speeds up, you speed up too, until your heart bursts; if he stops, you stop too, resulting in sudden cardiac arrest and death."

Upon hearing this, You Ruo also stopped laughing and couldn't help but mutter to herself:

"Controlling someone else's heartbeat? That's disgusting... How could he even think of that?"

Second Dream didn't speak, but her slightly lowered eyelids and thoughtful expression showed that she was already mentally devising a way to control herself.

"The 'Extreme Divine Tribulation'." Jiang Chen put down his wine bowl, his gaze slightly darkening.

"The ultimate killing move uses the primordial spirit as a weapon to directly attack the opponent; those struck by it will have their soul and spirit annihilated."

After he finished speaking, there was a moment of silence.

Duan Lang, however, suddenly looked up at the sky and burst into laughter.

Laughter echoed in the back hills, startling several birds in the woods.

"Well done! What a magnificent Indra! What a two-thousand-year-old monster!"

Duan Lang suddenly stood up, his eyes flashing with a sharp light, and his sword energy unconsciously surged around him, causing the wine bowl on the stone table to hum softly.

"I thought I had no equal in this world, as lonely as snow, but now that such a person has appeared—perfect for sacrificing to my Fire Kirin Sword!"

You Ru rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath:

"They get all hyped up at the mention of a formidable enemy..."

Second Dream smiled gently, without replying, and silently straightened the wine bowl that had been tilted by the power of the Broken Wave Sword Qi.

Duan Lang turned to look at Jiang Chen, his eyes burning with intensity:

"What does two thousand years of cultivation amount to? I, Duan Lang, will surely defeat him."

Jiang Chen quietly observed his brother for a moment, then patted Duan Lang on the shoulder.

"Your 'Ten Directions Invincible Scripture' has now reached the point of 'Ten Directions Return to One,' and has long since transcended the realm of ordinary martial arts."

Jiang Chen withdrew his hand, a cold smile curving his lips. His voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear.

Even if he has extraordinary abilities, killing him would be as easy as slaughtering a dog.

Upon hearing this, Duan Lang's eyes burned with fighting spirit, and he slammed his hand heavily on the stone table, causing the wine bowl to jump.

"Good! With Brother Jiang's words, what do I, Duan Lang, have to worry about?"

"However..." Jiang Chen's tone shifted abruptly, and he suddenly laughed.

"Could you please stop banging on my table? Meng personally chose this stone table; I can't afford to pay for it if you break it."

Second Dream couldn't help but laugh and turned her head away from them.

You Ruo burst out laughing and pointed at Duan Lang, saying:

"Look at you! You've come all this way for a drink, and you've practically shattered the wine jars!"

"It's always the same! Last time you came, you shook three of my orchids off the ground, and the time before that, you cracked my lantern. I haven't even confronted you about it!"

Duan Lang was taken aback, then smiled and cupped his hands, saying, "It was my fault for being rude. Next time I come, I will compensate you with three pots of orchids."

"Three basins aren't enough," You Ruo said, hands on her hips, holding up five fingers. "Five basins, plus a jar of Western Region grape wine."

"make a deal."

Duan Lang readily agreed, turned around and left. In a flash, he turned into a red light and disappeared into the horizon, quick and decisive, even faster than when he came.

You Ruo gazed in the direction he had disappeared, and suddenly muttered, "He won't renege on his debt, will he?"

Second Dream smiled gently: "No."

Jiang Chen picked up his wine bowl, took a leisurely sip, and laughed, "Right now, all he can think about is how to beat up Di Shitian."

Laughter echoed in the sky behind the mountain, the clear spring still flowed, and the birds still sang.

In this secluded paradise, the earth-shattering storm that is about to sweep across the entire martial arts world is yet to be felt.

On the banks of Jiuquan, the once desolate Niejia Village is now bustling with activity and thriving.

The town was bustling with merchants and travelers, and carriages and horses passed by frequently.

At the west end of the town, in an inconspicuous blacksmith shop, the furnace was burning brightly.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The hammer blows were resounding and rhythmic, each sound deep and powerful, like the beating of a drum.

A burly middle-aged man, shirtless, was wielding a heavy hammer, intently striking a red-hot iron block on an anvil.

Sweat slid down his bronze skin, instantly turning into a cloud of white mist upon contact with the residual heat of the anvil's edge.

His name is Nie Renwang.

The once-renowned "Northern Drinking Mad Saber".

After the fierce battle, he lived in seclusion here, making a living as a blacksmith, and no longer cared about the grudges of the martial world.

The hand that once held a knife now holds a hammer.

The walls of the blacksmith's shop were covered with all sorts of knives—

Long swords, short swords, curved swords, straight swords—a dazzling array, their cold gleams gleaming.

Although they are not divine weapons, they are all high-quality items forged through countless trials, and would be considered top-notch even in ordinary martial arts circles.

In the corner of the shop, a young apprentice was struggling to operate the bellows, his face flushed from the heat, and he couldn't help but mutter something under his breath:

"Master, the blacksmith next door sells a kitchen knife for thirty coins, but you sell it for three hundred coins and no one is buying it. Shouldn't we lower the price...?"

Nie Renwang didn't even look up, and said in a muffled voice:

"He's forging kitchen knives, I'm forging knives; they're different."

"But they're all for chopping vegetables..."

"Shut up, stop pumping the bellows."

The young apprentice shrank back, not daring to utter another word.

Just then, a person walked in.

The newcomer was tall and imposing, with a resolute face, and carried a uniquely shaped long sword on his back.

Just standing there gave off a sense of oppression, like having a sharp blade pressed against your throat.

His entire body exuded the aura of a sword, making him resemble a peerless weapon unsheathed.

The greatest swordsman in Japan—Huang Ying.

Huang Ying walked into the blacksmith shop, his gaze sweeping over the weapons hanging on the wall. He casually picked up a long sword made of fine steel and flicked it with his finger.

Upon seeing the guests arrive, the young apprentice quickly put on a smiling face and went to greet them:

"Sir, you have excellent taste! This is my master's masterpiece, forged from fine steel, capable of cutting a hair in two—"

"Zheng—"

The sound of the knife was crisp, but that was all it was—crisp.

"Ordinary iron".

Huang Ying coldly uttered two words, casually tossed the knife back onto the shelf, and didn't even glance at the young apprentice.

He then took down the second, third, and fourth swords in turn, flicked them one by one, and threw them all back, his disappointment growing deeper.

"The walls are covered with ordinary iron pieces; not a single one is presentable."

The apprentice's smile froze. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something but not daring to.

These words, spoken without being lowered, sounded particularly jarring amidst the clanging of the blacksmith's hammer.

"when!"

The hammer struck the anvil one last time, the sound louder than any of the previous blows, and then it stopped abruptly.

Nie Renwang put down the hammer and slowly turned around.

His eyes, which had been dull and indifferent when he was forging iron, suddenly became sharp as an eagle's, staring intently at the person in front of him.

Their eyes met, and the air seemed to freeze.

There were no words, no actions, only two invisible thoughts colliding violently in the void.

This is a connection that only exists between swordsmen—

Without drawing a sword or testing moves, one can discern the opponent's strength simply by observing their aura.

Nie Renwang felt a slight tremor in his heart.

He had lived in seclusion for many years, and his sword aura had long since been concealed to the bone, making it impossible for ordinary masters to discern his true strength.

But the person before him saw through the inadequacy of the wall full of weapons at a glance.

Even more deadly was the sword intent emanating from him—

The arrogance and self-importance that made his body, which had been dormant for more than a decade, start to boil again were actually aroused.

"Your Excellency speaks with considerable arrogance." Nie Renwang pulled off a handkerchief from his shoulder to wipe his face, his gaze falling on the hilt of the Jingji Blade on Huang Ying's back.

"Judging by your demeanor, are you also a man obsessed with the sword?"

Huang Ying reached back and touched Jing Ji on his back, a hint of almost obsessive fanaticism flashing in his eyes:

"The knife is my life."

"In this life, I have sought swords, loved swords, and been obsessed with swords. Only a peerless divine weapon is worthy of my way of the sword."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Nie Renwang from head to toe, as if re-examining the shirtless, middle-aged blacksmith. His voice suddenly lowered a few decibels:

"I have traveled all over Japan and traversed the Central Plains in search of the world's most famous swords."

"Although the sword you forged is made of ordinary iron, it faintly carries an extraordinary sword intent."

Nie Renwang narrowed his eyes slightly.

It turned out that it wasn't a coincidence, but that they came specifically to find me.

"The sword you forged is not worthy of your skill."

Huang Ying spoke these words in a calm tone, not so much as sarcasm, but more like someone obsessed with the way of the sword stating a fact.

"A blacksmith who can infuse the essence of a sword into ordinary iron—who were you before?"

Nie Renwang did not answer the question.

Huang Ying's eyes flashed like lightning as he pierced Nie Renwang: "Where's your sword?"

Upon hearing this, Nie Renwang's eyes flashed with an indescribable desolation, and he sighed.

"I have no more knives in my hands."

Before he finished speaking, he casually picked up a newly forged steel longsword from the wall and gripped the hilt with his five fingers.