Wandering Swordsman |

Upon arriving at the shore of Erhai Lake, just as he took his first step, an incredible scene unfolded—Shen Mo did not dive into the water, but instead walked directly on the surface.

His feet landed lightly on the water's surface, as if on solid land, without creating a ripple. With each step he took, the water beneath his feet slightly sank, as if an invisible force was supporting him forward.

If anyone else were present, this incredible scene would be terrifying, for even the leaders of the nine major sects would find it difficult to accomplish such a feat. Even the martial artist with the strongest lightness skill in the martial world today could only skim across the water like a dragonfly, falling back to the ground in less than a hundred feet. Yet Shen Mo could walk slowly and freely on the water, as if strolling on clouds. This extraordinary level of martial arts skill was beyond the reach of ordinary people.

Although Shen Mo's steps were slow, each one was filled with strength and confidence. His gaze remained fixed on the empty boats in the middle of Erhai Lake, as if some important answer was hidden there.

A night breeze brushed his face, bringing a touch of coolness, but it could not shake his resolve. Behind him, the moonlit Erhai Lake resembled a giant mirror, reflecting his solitary yet determined figure.

Before long, Shen Mo arrived at the center of Erhai Lake. He stood on the water, seemingly one with the lake, or as if standing on an invisible bridge. His figure appeared exceptionally lonely in this tranquil lake, like a statue in the night.

Shen Mo looked down at Erhai Lake, his gaze seemingly able to penetrate the shimmering surface of the water illuminated by the moonlight, all the way to the bottom of the lake.

The lake water was crystal clear, and a faint light shone down from above, outlining the underwater contours—layers of reefs, swaying water plants, and the occasional fish swimming by, their figures appearing and disappearing in the water like phantoms in a dream.

Shen Mo's gaze was deep and focused, as if he could see through the thin barrier and into the secrets hidden deep at the bottom of the lake.

"The Tomb of the God of War..." Shen Mo murmured to himself, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible, yet it sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet night. "What kind of secret do you hold that would make so many evil cultivators from overseas flock to it?"

......

The scene returns to the tomb of the God of War.

Duan Qianya and the six elders of the Diancang Sect, including Elder Yao Guangyuan, were still unaware of Lin Feiyan's murder. Instead, they were carefully studying the six mysterious stone doors. They gathered around these doors, their expressions solemn and focused, as if they were facing a gateway to another world.

Just moments ago, Duan Qianya attempted to forcefully open one of the six sword-shaped stone doors, much like he had opened the entrance to the Martial God's Tomb. He pressed his palms firmly against one of the doors, his inner energy surging like a torrent, his muscles taut, as if pouring all his power into this single strike. His face flushed red from the effort, veins bulging, and large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, soaking his collar.

However, no matter how hard he tried, the stone door remained unmoved, as if it were one with the earth, indestructible. Duan Qianya gritted his teeth, sweat dripping from his forehead onto the stone door, making a slight sound, but it sounded particularly jarring in the secret chamber.

"Strange..." Duan Qianya frowned, his tone filled with doubt and resentment. "Logically speaking, with my skill, even the most solid stone door should have been forcibly opened, just like the entrance stone door to the Tomb of the Martial God."

Elder Yao Guangyuan pondered for a moment before slowly speaking, "Sect Leader, these stone doors are probably not ordinary mechanisms; they may require a specific method to open."

Duan Qianya nodded, his gaze sweeping over the other stone doors, which were engraved with different weapon patterns: sword, knife, spear, club, hammer, and whip.

At this moment, Elder Chen Yuanshan of the Martial Hall stepped forward and carefully observed the carvings on the sword stone gate: "Sect Leader, look at this longsword. Its blade is winding and twisting, seemingly concealing a secret. Could it be that it needs to be activated in some specific way?"

Duan Qianya nodded slightly, signaling everyone to continue searching for clues. They began to examine each stone door one by one, trying to find any possible hints or mechanisms. Elder Liao Qingfeng of the inner hall gently stroked the spear pattern carved on the stone door, his fingers slowly sliding along the intricate lines, feeling the subtle changes within.

"This spear..." Liao Qingfeng mused, "These runes on the spear don't seem to be simple decorations, but rather part of some kind of formation. Should we try touching these runes in a certain order?"

Upon hearing this, Duan Qianya's heart stirred, and he immediately instructed his disciples to try different touching sequences one by one. They carefully pressed the runes in the predicted order, and each touch caused a slight vibration, as if the entire stone gate was responding to their movements.

However, despite their countless attempts, the stone gate remained unmoved. Duan Qianya felt a sense of frustration, but he knew that the greater the challenge, the richer the reward.

Just as Duan Qianya and the elders were engrossed in studying the six mysterious stone doors, a slight ripple suddenly came from the entrance to the secret chamber, like the first ripple on a calm lake, foreshadowing the coming storm.

Everyone involuntarily raised their heads, their gazes piercing through the dim light to the shimmering water, as if an invisible pair of eyes were peering at them through the surface.

Suddenly, three figures leaped out of the water like night hawks, instantly shattering the silence of the secret chamber with a chilling aura.

The first thing that catches the eye is the figure of Ding Chengfeng, the leader of the Black Wind Gang. He is dressed in a long black robe, his face is as cold as ice, and his eyes reveal an undeniable majesty, like a sleeping tiger awakening.

Following closely behind were the three Holy Lords of the Black Wind Gang—Xuanwu, Baihu, and Zhuque. Each of them exuded a unique aura, like three towering mountains, creating an oppressive atmosphere that made everyone present feel an invisible pressure.

This sudden turn of events stunned all the disciples of Diancang. The entire secret chamber fell into a deathly silence, with only the sound of dripping water echoing in the empty space, as if the bell of fate had tolled an alarm.

The members of the Diancang Sect were immediately filled with doubt and unease. They had originally thought that this operation was being carried out in secret and that no one would know about it, but they never expected that the Black Wind Gang would appear at this time.

A hint of tension and vigilance was evident in everyone's eyes, as if an invisible hand was gripping their hearts tightly, making it hard for them to breathe.

Duan Qianya's face also turned ashen, and a hint of anger and resentment flashed in his eyes.