Wandering Swordsman |

Upon hearing this, Albert's face showed an unusual hint of embarrassment. He scratched the back of his head and smiled somewhat awkwardly, as if he were the one being praised: "Mr. Hua, please don't misunderstand... they are not paying homage to me, but to the words 'Seven Stars'."

He reined in his horse, gently pulling on the reins, his gaze sweeping over the undulating sand dunes at the edge of the wasteland, landing on a few lonely beacon towers in the distance—those stone towers, long weathered and worn, still stood like silent sentinels, watching over this land repeatedly plowed by blood and fire.

His voice gradually calmed, carrying an almost solemn solemnity, as if he were recounting a belief etched into his very bones: "Hundreds of years ago, war raged between six kingdoms. Cities that belonged to England today would be flying the flag of the Tsarist Empire tomorrow; people who toiled in the fields yesterday would be reduced to ashes and bones tonight. It was an era without tomorrow, only the sharpness of blades and the cries of agony."

He paused, his fingers gently tracing the emblem on his chest, as if touching a heavy and sacred piece of history.

"Until the 'Seven Stars System' was established—witnessed by the monarchs of six nations and the Pope, and using the Star Crystal Token as proof, the seven strongest people in the world were selected and established as the pinnacle of martial arts. From then on, no nation dared to be the first to provoke a full-scale war."

"Because the Seven Stars don't represent any one person," he turned his head, his gaze fixed intently on Hua Tianyou and Shen Mo, "but rather a kind of... balance. The six kingdoms jointly acknowledge that the Seven Stars are the seven strongest people in the world. Regardless of their social status or origin, anyone who can defeat any one of the current Seven Stars can obtain the Star Crystal Token and become one of the new Seven Stars."

Upon hearing this, Shen Mo's eyes narrowed slightly, and he suddenly understood—no wonder Albert laughed loudly and shouted "Seven Stars have changed hands!" after Hua Tianyou defeated him that day!

This was not just empty talk, but rather the path of change promised by the system itself.

The victors inherit the fame, the losers retire; the positions of the Seven Stars rightfully belong to the seven strongest people on this land.

Albert looked at the two of them, his eyes shining with an almost pious light, and continued, "Although the Seven Stars enjoy supreme privileges—they can form an army of a thousand without anyone's approval, commit capital crimes without trial, and enter the palace directly to meet the king without kneeling—more importantly, we are the 'anchor' of this chaotic world."

His voice was low, yet every word was firm: "As long as the Seven Stars remain, the six kingdoms will not dare to easily start a war. Because everyone knows that once the flames of war spread, the Seven Stars have the right to intervene and mediate, and even... depose a king, or even confront the Pope."

Hua Tianyou remained silent for a long time, then a flash of understanding appeared in his eyes, like a silver lightning bolt streaking across the dark night.

So that's how it is. This seemingly glorious "Seven Stars" is actually a Damocles' sword hanging over the heads of the six kingdoms—granting them supreme power while also bearing the responsibility of maintaining peace.

This is why the six kingdoms were willing to relinquish some of their sovereignty, acknowledging that these "unofficial" warriors were above the law and became the true arbiters of this land.

"No wonder," Shen Mo finally spoke, his voice as calm as the wind sweeping across the sand, yet unfathomable, "you were all alone cultivating in the wilderness, without anyone to protect you or any followers."

Albert grinned, a surge of pride rising within him, his eyes burning with youthful fervor: "The true Seven Stars need no followers! My sword is my border; my name is my law!"

The evening breeze brushed against the three people's robes, stirring up fine sand that wove into a golden mist under the setting sun.

In the distance, the smoke of war was faint, and the city walls appeared and disappeared on the horizon, like a sleeping behemoth.

On this land written in iron and blood, the words "Seven Stars" have long transcended military force and become order itself—a source of fear, awe, and the last inextinguishable light in the hearts of the people of the six kingdoms.

......

After leaving Duanlongkou, the three continued to venture northwest, gradually approaching the direction of the Tsarist Empire.

The wilderness gradually receded, and rolling hills appeared, with withered forests and stone cities intertwined like a chessboard. Along the way, the wind and sand never ceased, nor did the glint of swords.

Several bandits, some hiding on the cliffs, others lying in ambush on the ancient road, saw the seven-star emblem hanging on Albert's chest from afar and fled in panic as if they had seen a ghost or a god, not even daring to raise a dust with their horses' hooves.

But there were also those who didn't believe in evil—a gang of ruthless bandits who called themselves "Black Wolves," whose leader was once a knight who was arrogant about his exceptional eyesight.

He squinted at the three men, then sneered, "Seven Stars? Ha, why would the real Seven Stars bring two disheveled followers? They must be bandits with forged tokens!"

He was betting on the falsity of people's hearts and on the falsity of reputation.

But he made the wrong bet.

Before Hua Tianyou or Shen Mo could even speak, Albert gave them a cold glance and his figure soared into the sky like a falcon.

Before the sword flashed, the killing intent arrived first.

His moves were incredibly fast, yet incredibly simple—just a few simple slashes and hacks, and the group was utterly routed.

From then on, no bandits dared to approach within ten miles of the three. Even when horse thieves or scouts occasionally scouted from afar, upon seeing the three, they would flee into the sand dunes as if they had seen a plague, not daring to ride their horses fast.

Throughout the journey, Albert remained silent and unwavering.

He never asked where the two were going, nor did he inquire about their purpose.

In his heart, having already become Hua Tianyou's disciple, he should abide by the duties of a disciple—if the master does not speak, then he should not know; if the master goes forward, then he should follow.

Only when the night was deep and quiet, and the campfire was dimly lit, would he occasionally look up at Shen Mo.

The man always appeared calm and collected, his black robes as dark as night, his gaze distant, as if observing the stars, or perhaps contemplating someone thousands of miles away. He never made a move, never uttered a single extra word, but whenever Hua Tianyou made a decision, he would always look at him at a very subtle angle, as if seeking instructions, or perhaps confirming something.

My master's martial arts are divine; he could defeat me in ten moves as easily as playing with a child... Yet, he always maintained a kind of awe-inspiring caution towards this Mr. Shen.

Could it be... that Mr. Shen is the real master?

Is his strength... even above his master's?

This thought, like a vine, entwined my heart, growing deeper and deeper, yet I never dared to ask it aloud.

By this day, the three could see the distant border of the Tsarist Empire—the imposing pass known as "Iron Crown Fortress," standing majestically on the red mountain ridge, with a black banner with gold patterns hanging high on its top.

The clanging of armor and the neighing of warhorses could be faintly heard in the wind.

Just then, Shen Mo suddenly reined in his horse and turned to look at Albert. His voice was calm as usual, but it carried a hint of unfathomable meaning:

"Albert, you've been traveling with us all this way, have you ever wondered... about our destination?"

Albert paused, then instinctively straightened his back, like an apprentice facing an examination. He remained silent for a moment before whispering, "This disciple dares not presume to ask. But... if you wish to speak, sir, this disciple is all ears."

Shen Mo gazed at him, a thousand words churning in his eyes, but in the end, they only turned into a very faint smile, like a thin frost under the moon, cold and sharp: "Our journey here is to find Lord Wudi."

"Invincible Lord!" Albert's pupils suddenly contracted, his breath hitched, as if an invisible hand had gripped his throat.