The Demon Lords

The Sword Saint’s sword has been restored.

Lord Zheng wasn’t too surprised because he had suspected this for a while, and in truth, he was mentally prepared for it.

In this world, there are always some people who will shine like stars, even if they are briefly covered by clouds. When the sky clears, you will find them continuing their brilliance.

Out of habit, he again reached out to touch the Pixiu he had nearly used as a footrest earlier, expressing a bit of guilt.

Immediately,

Lord Zheng raised his head again, looking at the masked man surrounded by his guards.

When he found his knife had lost its sharpness, he started using his mouth, trying to replace the effect of his blade.

The Sword Saint did not draw his sword again, but stood quietly, not trying to discern it, perhaps too lazy to do so, or perhaps feeling that in this scene no amount of argument could change the heart of one destined to die.

The Sword Saint remembered something his master had once told him:

In this world, there are two types of people you can’t reason with; no matter how well you argue, they won’t actually listen.

One type of person is someone your sword cannot kill;

The other type is someone your sword is about to kill.

Master, master,

As a teacher and as a father,

The Sword Saint remembered many things his master said, except for this phrase, which he couldn’t comprehend for many years.

In the past two years,

he somewhat understood,

not the words themselves, but the... implication within them.

Yu Huaping is already dead.

Died at the moment when the old Situ family head’s heart was pierced by one sword,

Died on the outskirts of the capital city of Jin State during the confrontation with Tian Wujing that night,

Died on the day before Snow Sea Pass, taking on thousands single-handedly.

Sword Saint of Jin land, Sword Saint of Jin land,

He was clearly only a Sword Saint,

yet for those two words before Sword Saint, he did too much, and sacrificed too much.

Now, he is merely a woman’s husband, a child’s father, the owner of a nest of old hens;

The Sword Saint holds his sword,

and begins to walk forward.

Lord Zheng was slightly surprised; he had planned to order his guards to swarm and eliminate the masked assassin, without wanting the Sword Saint to intervene.

The masked man was already surrounded by his armored guards; bows and crossbows aimed at him. With the first round of arrows, it would be tough for his strength to withstand it. Any subsequent pressure from the guards, even if he could stir a little trouble, would be quite limited.

After all, strong individuals like Lord Jingnan and the Sword Saint are extremely rare.

Not even comparing, while being assassinated earlier, Lord Zheng had a feeling that if he reacted appropriately, he most likely wouldn’t die by his blade—at most, he would be injured.

This is without counting Mo Wan stepping in.

Lord Zheng categorized the world’s strong into two types; those who, upon approaching, can kill him instantly, and those who cannot.

Clearly, the opponent belongs to the latter.

If he can’t even eliminate me instantly, what kind of strong is that?

The masked one is a master, but, he is just a master.

However, Lord Zheng has always cared greatly for the Sword Saint’s physical and mental health; he didn’t want the Sword Saint to be burdened unnecessarily. Good steel should be used on the blade, shouldn’t it?

Yet,

the Sword Saint continued moving forward,

and with his determined steps,

forced the guards on one side to voluntarily open their encirclement slightly, allowing the Sword Saint to enter.

Those guards knew well what the white robes represented.

The masked man watched the Sword Saint walking toward him,

laughed aloud:

"What, are you, Yu Huaping, planning to draw your sword personally before your lord to kill me seeking credit?"

The Sword Saint sighed,

and said:

"No."

"No? Then what do you mean, don’t tell me you want to plead for me, save me? Hahaha."

The Sword Saint shook his head,

and said:

"I don’t know you; how can I plead for you?"

"...." masked man.

Many people know the Sword Saint, because wherever he goes, he is the focus;

But there aren’t many people the Sword Saint knows, because in this world, not many are worth knowing.

These words hurt, especially when said with such earnestness; they hurt even more.

You accused me,

You criticized me,

I did not refute, did not argue,

But seriously asked,

Who are you?

"What exactly do you want?" Masked man shouted.

The Sword Saint kept walking forward,

continued closing the distance,

while continuing seriously:

"I won’t kill you for credit from him."

"Could it be, you want to let me go? Let me go and keep your Sword Saint reputation clear? Fame?

Yu Huaping, do you think you can still wash yourself clean?"

The Sword Saint still shook his head,

and said:

"I simply want to kill you."

"What’s the difference?" The masked man laughed, the laughter containing mockery.

"Because what you said made me uncomfortable."

"Yu Huaping, afraid of what you’ve done being talked about?"

The Sword Saint nodded,

and said:

"Not afraid, just uncomfortable."

"You still have a sense of shame?"

The Sword Saint shook his head,

This wasn’t him admitting he had no sense of shame, but thinking, he and the man in front simply can’t converse, they are talking past each other entirely.

That being the case,

there’s no need to talk.

At this point,

The distance between the Sword Saint and the masked man was less than two meters.

Walking the street,

Or rather,