I Have the Martial Arts Heavenly Eye in the Storm Riders

Four hands, four completely different supreme internal forces, were all poured into this small divine essence at the same instant!

Overlord Technique, Formless Breaking Qi, Startling Silent Blade Intent, Nine Dragons Power—

Four forces collided, squeezed, and tore at each other wildly!

The deep sea, spanning over a hundred feet in diameter, was turned upside down by these four unparalleled internal forces!

The seabed rocks collapsed in large sections, and silt and sand rushed into the sky. The huge underwater currents were forcibly reversed, forming a deep-sea storm that was powerful enough to swallow everything!

The four of them held onto Shen Yuan tightly, none of them willing to let go!

Gritting my teeth!

Veins bulging!

Whoever lets go first will lose this treasure forever!

however--

click!

A faint yet extremely clear cracking sound emanated from within the divine essence.

The expressions on the faces of all four people changed drastically at the same time.

Click!

Cracks spread rapidly from the center of the divine essence!

The divine essence—unable to withstand the simultaneous influx of four unparalleled internal forces—began to crumble!

"Let go!!" the Blue Moon Saint Lord roared.

Nobody listened to him.

It's too late.

boom--!!!!

Divine energy explodes!

A devastating shockwave of extreme cold erupted suddenly from the center of Shen Yuan, blasting all four of them back dozens of feet at the same time!

The four were tumbling and choking on water in the terrifying shockwave, each struggling to regain their balance.

When the shockwave subsided, the deep sea returned to silence.

All four of them looked toward the center of the explosion.

There--

Four tiny divine energies, emitting a faint glow, were rapidly flying in four completely different directions!

The divine essence split into four!

There is no room for hesitation!

Almost simultaneously, the four made the same choice—each frantically chasing after the nearest small divine essence!

At this moment, no one cared about fighting.

The light of the Lesser Divine Essence is rapidly fading away; once it is lost, it will never be found again in this deep sea thousands of feet deep!

Bu Jingyun locked onto the small divine essence that was flying eastward, and with all his might, he activated the Overlord Technique's inner force, transforming into a dark shadow as he swiftly traversed the deep sea.

The little divine energy was extremely fast. Even Bu Jingyun chased it for thousands of feet before finally grabbing it at the edge of a dark trench!

The extreme cold energy surged into his palm again, but it was much weaker than the complete divine energy, which was easily suppressed by the Overlord Technique's internal force.

Bu Jingyun grasped the small divine essence and glanced back at the deep sea behind him.

A dead silence.

The other three had already disappeared into the endless darkness in their respective directions, their presence no longer detectable.

Bu Jingyun did not linger.

He turned upwards, his inner energy protecting him as he pushed through the seawater and rapidly rose to the surface.

The water pressure is getting lighter and lighter, and the light is getting brighter and brighter.

puff-

Bu Jingyun burst forth from the sea, seawater cascading down his body.

He stood on the surging sea, his robes soaked through, yet his imposing aura remained undiminished.

He stood quietly on the sea, closing his eyes to sense the atmosphere around him.

After a few breaths, he opened his eyes.

Blue Moon Saint Lord, Huang Ying, and Dugu Ming—the auras of the three were already several miles away, each going their own way.

Bu Jingyun remained silent for a moment, accepting it as fate.

He stopped chasing, turned around, and strode across the waves toward the shore.

Ice cliff shore.

Nie Feng and Wuming stood side by side, their eyes fixed on the sea.

In the distance, a figure rapidly approached, riding the crests of the waves.

A hint of a smile flashed in Nie Feng's eyes.

"Senior Brother Yun is back."

Bu Jingyun stepped onto the icy shore, and seawater slid down his boots, freezing into a thin layer of ice on the surface.

He spread out his left hand.

A divine essence, much smaller than before, floated quietly above the palm. Although its icy blue and golden light had dimmed considerably, it was still vibrant.

Wuming glanced at it but didn't ask any further questions.

Nie Feng leaned closer to take a look and scratched his head.

"Senior Brother Yun, why has your divine energy shrunk?"

Bu Jingyun said calmly, "It's broken into four pieces, one for each person."

Nie Feng paused for a moment, then grinned.

"One yuan each is fine, it saves us from having to fight again."

Bu Jingyun did not respond, but simply put the small divine essence into his pocket.

And further away, in the shadows of the ice cliffs.

A pair of effeminate eyes stared intently at the shrunken divine essence in Bu Jingyun's hand.

It's Xue Xin Nan.

He saw Bu Jingyun return alone from the sea, still clutching the divine essence in his hand—

Although the divine essence was significantly smaller than before, it was indeed divine essence.

As for the Blue Moon Saint Lord...

Xue Xinnan waited for a long time, but still did not see the Holy Lord's figure emerge from the sea.

A subtle, almost imperceptible smile slowly curved the corners of his lips.

It would have been best if he had died at the hands of Bu Jingyun.

If the Holy Lord truly cannot return—

The Blue Moon Sect is ruled by him.

Xue Xin silently withdrew her gaze, turned and disappeared into the snowstorm, quietly leaving.

More than a month later.

In the Central Plains, at the former site of the Sword Sect, snow was falling heavily.

Once a sacred place of martial arts where ten thousand swords paid homage and whose power shook the world, now only ruins remain, swallowed by wind and snow.

The dilapidated mountain gate leaned precariously in the snow, and the inscriptions on the lintel had long been blurred by the wind and sand.

A figure in green appeared before the mountain gate.

He walked slowly, climbing the steps one by one.

Their feet trod across the soft snow, leaving no trace behind them.

Treading on snow without leaving a trace, the heavenly sword without a name.

The nameless man's gaze slowly swept over the frozen ruins, a faint trace of melancholy flashing in his eyes.

The training ground where fellow disciples once practiced swordsmanship is now overgrown with withered grass.

The training cliff, once teeming with sword energy, is now nothing but rubble.

Time is sharper than any sword; it cuts everything in the blink of an eye.

Wuming stood outside the dilapidated hall for a long time.

The wind and snow fell on his shoulders, accumulating a thin layer, but he didn't brush it off.

After a long while, he withdrew his gaze, turned around, and walked towards the deepest part of the Sword Sect.

There is a secret realm there—the Primordial Heaven Sea.

Enveloped in profound energy year-round and isolated from the world, it is an ideal place to cultivate the way of the sword, and also the purpose of his trip.

After passing through several collapsed corridors, Wuming stepped into the entrance of the Primordial Heavenly Sea.

The cave was deep and cold, with walls covered in black ice.

The once mysterious realm, brimming with profound energy, is now nothing but darkness and deathly silence.

Just as Wuming was about to find a platform to sit cross-legged, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

He saw the view at the end of the cave.

On a dilapidated stone platform, a skeleton sat cross-legged.

The skeleton was upright, the spine straight, and even after a long time of death, the bones still maintained an almost arrogant posture.

It was as if even death could not make him bend down.

The nameless figure instantly appeared in front of the stone platform.

His gaze fell on the remaining outline of clothing on the skeleton, and then on the trace of arrogant sword intent that still lingered even after turning into bones.

He was all too familiar with that sword intent.

Arrogant, sharp, and disdainful of the world.

There is only one person in this world whose sword intent has this flavor.

The nameless man's breath hitched slightly.

"Sword Emperor Uncle..."

The once arrogant and unparalleled Sword Sect master, who spent half his life guarding the Ice Prison, has quietly passed away here.

The nameless figure gazed silently at the withered skeleton.

No one knows when the Sword Emperor arrived here, nor does anyone know when he died.

He lived his final journey alone in this desolate cave.

No descendants were there to see him off in his final days, and no disciples kept vigil over his body.

There wasn't even a tombstone.

Suddenly, Wuming's eyes flickered slightly.

On the skeletal knees lay a thin booklet.

The booklet was remarkably well-preserved by the frigid air of the Xuanbing Cave; the writing on the cover was as clear as new.

All swords return to one.

The nameless man's pupils contracted slightly.

He turned to the first page, read only a few lines, and his fingers trembled slightly.

This is a sword move created by the Sword Emperor himself.

Unlike the simultaneous unleashing of myriad phenomena in the "Return of Ten Thousand Swords" technique, the "Reunion of Ten Thousand Swords" technique takes a completely opposite path—

Condensing countless sword intents into a single sword strike, achieving victory in a single blow.

Simplicity, purity, and power.

Wuming slowly closed the booklet and remained silent for a long time.

My uncle was arrogant throughout his life, spent half his life trapped in the Ice Prison, and ultimately died alone there.

But this manual proves that he never gave up the way of the sword until his death.

At the end of his life, he poured all his insights into paper and left them behind.

To whom should it be left?

Perhaps no one is.

Perhaps he was simply unwilling to let this move vanish into nothingness along with him.

The nameless man silently put the secret manual into his pocket.

Then, he lifted the hem of his robe and, in the deathly silent cave, knelt down before the remains of the Sword Emperor, bowing deeply.

This bow is from a junior to a senior, and also from swordsmen to swordsmen.

After getting up, Wuming used the Heavenly Sword True Qi to condense a soft net of energy and carefully lifted the Sword Emperor's remains.

He held the skeleton in his arms, turned around, and walked out of the cave.

The wind and snow were blowing in our faces.

Wuming trudged through the snow, heading towards the Sword Tomb on the back mountain of the Sword Sect, where the sect leaders and pioneers of past generations were buried.

He used his palm as a hammer to carve the stone into a tomb.

Using his finger as a weapon, he carved two characters on the monument: "Sword Emperor".

There is no biography, no achievements.

These two words are enough.

The wind howled, and the falling snow swirled in front of the monument for a long time before finally settling down.

The nameless man stood before the monument for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, without uttering a single word.

Then he turned around and returned to Yuantianhai.

He sat cross-legged deep inside the cave and closed his eyes.

But he was unable to calm down for a long time.

It wasn't because of the Sword Emperor's death, but because of the terrifying forces that have been emerging in the martial world recently.

Emperor Shitian, Huai Kong Huai Mie, Blue Moon Saint Lord, Huang Ying, Dugu Ming.

These people's power is rising at an alarming rate.

Wuming opened his eyes, his gaze deep and serious.

He stood proudly at the pinnacle of swordsmanship in his early twenties, and there were very few people in the world who could face him head-on.

But now—

For the first time, he felt a real sense of urgency.

If he stops moving forward, this overwhelming trend will mercilessly leave him behind.

At that time, he will no longer have the power to protect anyone.

He took a deep breath, completely crushing all the distracting thoughts in his mind, and closed his eyes again.

The Heavenly Sword True Qi circulated powerfully in his meridians, as vast and boundless as a surging ocean.

The profound energy in Yuantian Qihai was drawn towards him by his aura and slowly converged towards him.

He must become stronger.

Deep within this desolate secret realm, Heavenly Sword Nameless began his path to breaking through to higher realms.

Beside the ancient road outside Luoyan Town, there is an open-air tavern.

A few crooked wooden stakes supported a thatched roof, and under the roof were two or three rough wooden tables, the tabletops pitted and stained with wine.

Nie Feng sat alone in the corner.

A blue robe and a bowl of turbid wine.

He held the rough porcelain bowl, sipping his drink slowly, his gaze lingering on the distant end of the official road.