Wandering Swordsman |

The three thousand elite warriors of the Kamikaze Battalion were completely silent. The scene of Toyotomi's head rolling away was still vivid in their minds; that silent sword aura, like the kiss of death, had already shattered their last shred of hope.

No one dared to answer, no one dared to move, they even held their breath carefully, for fear of disturbing the Green Ox Sword that could be drawn again at any time.

After a long while, a hoarse sigh was heard.

Jianzhen moved slowly, like a candle flickering in the wind. He no longer looked at Toyotomi's corpse, nor at the overseas heretics behind him, but simply bent down to straighten his tattered black robe, as if making a final gesture of dignity for the end of an era. His voice was low, yet clearly carried throughout the entire hall:

"withdraw!"

The order was given, and no one in the overseas heretical cultivators' formation objected. The battle flag slowly unfurled, emitting a dull but orderly echo, like the receding tide, quietly fading into the distance. The once invincible "Divine Wind Camp" now bowed its head, like defeated dogs returning to their nest, devoid of any arrogance.

However, just as the overseas heretical practitioners were about to turn and leave—

"Oda." Shen Mo suddenly spoke, his voice not loud, but like a stone striking the ground, causing Oda to pause in his steps.

He slowly turned around, a flicker of struggle and resentment in his eyes, but he suppressed his emotions and forced a smile: "Young Master Shen... is there anything else you wish to instruct me on?"

Shen Mo's gaze was like lightning, piercing straight to his heart: "The secret manuals and divine weapons obtained from the Tomb of the Martial God will all be returned to the Central Plains martial arts world."

These words invigorated the spirits of all the heroes from the Central Plains present!

Oda's face instantly turned ashen, his fists clenched tightly within his sleeves, his nails almost digging into his palms. He roared inwardly, "That's an opportunity I've schemed for years to obtain! How can I just hand it over to someone else?!"

But when he looked up and met Shen Mo's clear, mirror-like eyes, and then caught a glimpse of Toyotomi's headless corpse on the ground, he finally sighed in despair.

He knew that if he didn't hand it over today, he might not even be able to bring his life back to Japan.

"...Okay." He gritted his teeth and agreed, his voice as sharp as sandpaper.

He then waved to signal.

The Three-Handed Sword Demon, Granny White Bone, and Blood-Handed Judge stepped forward and returned all the items they had obtained from the Tomb of the God of War: the God of War Sword, God of War Saber, God of War Staff, God of War Spear, God of War Whip, as well as the "God of War Saber Technique," "God of War Staff Technique," "God of War Spear Technique," "God of War Whip Technique," and "Great Art of Expelling Power."

Shen Mo stepped forward slowly and accepted the divine weapon and secret manual one by one. His movements were calm and composed, yet they were as if he were reclaiming lost territory and returning the land to its rightful owner.

On the city wall, Situ Dengfeng stood proudly, while Guiguzi nodded repeatedly: "The righteous path is not alone; Heaven blesses the Central Plains..."

At this moment, the martial arts world of the Central Plains can finally hold its head high!

It wasn't through sheer numbers or cunning schemes.

Instead, they relied on one man and one sword to rightfully reclaim the dignity and heritage that belonged to the Central Plains!

Shen Mo stood beneath the city walls, his black robes as dark as ink, carrying the Youth Sword and the Tai'a Sword on his back, like an insurmountable mountain.

They are protecting the Nanjing Martial Arts Alliance behind them.

A moment later, the Japanese army, like a receding tide, with its banners billowing, gradually disappeared into the vast expanse outside Nanjing. The murderous aura that had once loomed over the city like dark clouds was finally dispelled by the young man's sword, turning into a wisp of smoke in the cold wind, leaving no trace.

Just after the last battle flag bearing the character "God" disappeared behind the hill—

"We won!!!!"

Someone let out a roar, like a spark igniting a powder keg, and in an instant, a thunderous cheer erupted from the city walls of Nanjing!

The disciples embraced and wept, the elders shed tears, and even the seriously injured martial artists struggled to their feet, brandishing their swords and shouts that shook the heavens!

Some shouted "Long live Young Hero Shen!", some knelt down and kowtowed, thanking Heaven for blessing the righteous path, and young disciples were filled with passion, their eyes burning with an unprecedented ambition for martial arts—what they were witnessing today was no longer a martial arts contest, but a legend!

On the city tower, Situ Dengfeng slowly rose, his face still pale, but his spine straightened.

He descended the stone steps steadily, his gaze piercing. When the city gates opened and he stood before Shen Mo, he disregarded his status as alliance leader, clasped his hands in a deep bow, and spoke with a choked, solemn voice:

"Shen Mo, if it weren't for your heroic efforts today, the martial arts world of the Central Plains would likely have become a vassal state of Japan! For this kindness and virtue, Situ Dengfeng, on behalf of the righteous path of the world, thanks you!"

Before he finished speaking, he straightened up, surveyed the assembled heroes, and declared loudly, "I am old and frail, my vigor waning. Now—" His gaze returned to Shen Mo, his eyes filled with satisfaction and entrustment, "New talents emerge in every generation; the martial world should now be handed over to you, the younger generation!"

Upon hearing this, the entire audience fell silent for a moment, then erupted in even more enthusiastic applause and cheers!

"Young Master Shen truly deserves this title!"

"He not only defeated the Japanese Emperor, but also reclaimed the treasures left behind by the God of War—such achievements are unprecedented!"

"Who else but him deserves the title of the new leader of the martial arts world?!"

......

Everyone's gazes were fixed intently on the figure in black, their eyes filled with nothing but reverence and disbelief. The members of the Qingfeng team who had rushed back with Shen Mo were also beaming with pride, as if they were talking about themselves when they spoke of Shen Mo.

From the crowd, Guiguzi stepped forward slowly, his white hair fluttering in the wind, a rare hint of appreciation in his eyes: "Shen Mo, I also agree with what the Alliance Leader said."

As soon as Guiguzi finished speaking, the entire audience held their breath, and countless eyes were focused on Shen Mo. Now, the two legends of the Central Plains martial arts world had spoken, as if they were just waiting for his approval to shout "Alliance Leader"!

However, Shen Mo slowly shook his head, his expression calm yet resolute. He bowed deeply to Situ Dengfeng, his voice clear as the wind through a pine forest, yet every word was earnest:

"I am deeply grateful for the Alliance Leader's kindness." Shen Mo's voice was clear and melodious, like the wind blowing through the valley, and every word was sincere. "However, the Alliance Leader of the Martial Arts World is not an honor for one person, but a responsibility for all. I am young and inexperienced, and my experience in the martial arts world is still limited. If I were to rashly assume this high position, I fear I would fail the expectations of the heroes of the world and disgrace the name of the Alliance Leader."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the assembled heroes, his eyes revealing no false pretense, only sincerity: "Although the Alliance Leader's martial prowess is not what it once was, his prestige remains as high as a mountain, and his wisdom as vast as the sea. He should continue to lead the way and guide us, the younger generation, forward. I am willing to be the vanguard, wielding the sword to pave the way; I am willing to be the pillar, protecting the Alliance from danger; I am willing to be the torchbearer, passing on the teachings to future generations—but the position of Alliance Leader is not yet one I can accept."

These words moved the assembled heroes.

Someone whispered, "Young Master Shen is a true gentleman; he is neither greedy for power nor fond of fame."

Some exclaimed, "Young Master Shen possesses such magnanimity; this is the true mark of a leader!"

Some lamented, "If he had truly ascended to the position of leader, we would have been completely convinced; yet he voluntarily stepped down... Such magnanimity is rarely seen throughout history!"

Just then, two graceful figures emerged slowly from the crowd, like two lotus flowers illuminated by the moon, their radiance reflecting each other.

Situ Meng wore a plain linen robe, and the jade hairpin still adorned her hair—a keepsake given to her by Murong Qing himself. Her eyes were slightly red, but she suppressed her emotions, her voice as gentle as a willow swaying in the breeze: "Shen Mo, you...you're always like this. You've clearly accomplished unparalleled feats, yet you're content to remain in the background."

She paused, her gaze clear as water: "But do you know that if it weren't for you today, Nanjing would have fallen, and the martial arts world would be destroyed?"

Before the words were even finished, Murong Qing had already moved to the other side. She was dressed in a black, close-fitting outfit, a short sword with a plum blossom design at her waist, exuding a commanding presence. Her brows still bore the marks of war, yet when she looked at Shen Mo, her eyes softened, like the moon reflected in a cold pool. She smiled slightly, her tone slightly teasing, yet brimming with pride:

"Have you forgotten? You are my husband, Murong Qing's husband." Her voice wasn't loud, but every word was like a nail, striking straight to the heart. "Men of the Murong family may be humble, but they must never belittle themselves!"