World's No. 1 Swordsman-Chapter 21: The Star-Piercing Sword That Can Someday Call Upon the Moon!

Chapter 21: The Star-Piercing Sword That Can Someday Call Upon the Moon!

Applause echoed continuously around the area. The sects' disciples watched with enthusiasm, and many cultivators eagerly volunteered to their masters, stepping forward to display the Daoist arts that they had cultivated.

Gradually, the exchange meeting began to show traces of actual Daoist arts exchanges.

One disciple chanted an incantation to invoke one of the Thunder God's techniques, managing to conjure a faint arc of lightning. Another recited a hymn, summoning a surge of boundless righteous qi. They then floated around gracefully, leaving the audience puzzled.

There was also a cultivator who laid a formation on the ground using triangular flags, creating various illusions. Although they could not unleash the formation's full power, it was evident that they thoroughly understood the principles and mechanisms behind it.

Wang Sheng watched the demonstrations without much emotion. Most of his attention was on the surrounding Daoists. If he could faintly recall someone, they would likely become a renowned master in the future. His senior sister beside him, however, was watching with great interest, occasionally exclaiming in admiration and clapping enthusiastically. She showed no sign of nervousness about her upcoming turn on the stage.

"Senior Sister, we're not sure if you're going up yet, okay?" Wang Sheng softly reminded.

Mu Wanxuan blinked, her eyes shining with eagerness.

Wang Sheng chuckled. "Let's follow the arrangements of our martial uncles. If we're not needed, we can just treat this as a free sightseeing trip."

Mu Wanxuan giggled and nodded. Understanding her junior brother's point, she dismissed the idea of stepping up to showcase a Dual-Polarity Trigram technique and just enjoyed the diverse and extraordinary Daoist arts being performed.

Li Shiwu knew his cultivation level was insufficient. When seated in the main hall, he deliberately chose a less conspicuous spot and remained silent throughout.

Once most of the sects were done with their performances, Li Shiwu stood up and said, "Let's have Wudang showcase some Daoist arts as well."

Two Wudang Daoist masters on standby turned to the six disciples behind them, who seemed well-prepared. They chose Meng Hong and Zhou Yinglong to step onto the stage and demonstrate Wudang's Daoist arts.

Meng Hong stood on the left, empty-handed, while Zhou Yinglong stood on the right, holding a treasured sword.

In front of over twenty Daoist masters and their disciples, the two could not help but feel nervous. Li Shiwu's words only made them feel more pressured.

The two were to perform in succession. Meng Hong began by slowly assuming a stance that resembled common Tai Chi, but with each movement, strands of primal qi accompanied him. A faint white light seemed to gather in his palms.

After five moves, he stopped, offering only a brief demonstration.

Meng Hong slowly pressed his hands downward, and pure primal qi circled him for a moment. A small portion returned to his body, while most of it dissipated.

The Dao Rhythm of the Dual-Polarity technique was not particularly pronounced, but it was undeniably exquisite. The Daoist masters present could not find any flaws. A few of them even applauded lightly, giving him some acknowledgment.

Contrary to how Meng Hong was received, as Zhou Yinglong performed the opening stance of the Taiyi Sword Art, a few sharp shouts came from the crowd.

"Wudang's swordsmanship is certainly powerful, but everyone is demonstrating Daoist arts today. Isn't showcasing sword techniques a bit inappropriate?"

"Doesn't Wudang have sword-controlling techniques? Oh, right. The art of sword control is an exclusive secret of a few immortal mountains in Shu. In the past, with no primal qi, Wudang wouldn't have paid any attention to such techniques."

"Hey, you two up front, don't speak carelessly. That Wudang cultivator might unleash three thousand sword energies in a single strike and take you out!" the spiky-haired Daoist priest lounging on a bench sarcastically exclaimed. This time, he made no effort to conceal his location.

His words struck a nerve, making other young Daoist priests burst into laughter. Most of the Daoist masters also couldn't help but smile. A few sects that were on friendly terms with Wudang or shared similar practices wanted to defend them, but they struggled to find a proper rebuttal.

Zhou Yinglong's composure shattered. His hand on the sword hilt trembled slightly as he scanned the crowd, seemingly searching for their mocker. The sight made Wang Sheng frown slightly. Instead of turning his head to search as well, he gently pressed down on his senior sister's arm and walked toward Zhou Yinglong.

Had he hesitated for even half a second, the spiky-haired Daoist priest could have blurted another insult.

"Who said that?!" Zhou Yinglong yelled.

"Senior Brother Zhou," Wang Sheng calmly called. He lightly patted Zhou Yinglong's shoulder and then lowly said, "Let me handle this."

Zhou Yinglong exhaled as he turned to Wang Sheng. Perhaps influenced by his junior brother's composure, his anger subsided considerably.

Relaxing slightly, Zhou Yinglong handed his treasured sword to Wang Sheng with both hands. Softly, he said, "Sorry to trouble you, Junior Brother. I've embarrassed Wudang."

"Don't say that, Senior Brother," Wang Sheng replied calmly. His words reached every corner of the venue, drawing the attention of even some drowsy Daoist elders.

Amplifying one's voice wasn't particularly difficult, but it was quite challenging to achieve a natural effect that resembled a passing gentle breeze. Such a feat required exceptionally pure true essence; a spiritual consciousness at least at the late stage of the Spirit Convergence Realm; and a calm, undisturbed state of mind.

Wang Sheng casually added, "Your sword techniques are restrained in their brilliance, making them hard for ordinary eyes to perceive. Coincidentally, I know a few flashy sword moves that might be just right for demonstration."

Zhou Yinglong chuckled bitterly. His smile was tinged with helplessness, but he just silently retreated from the stage.

All eyes turned to Wang Sheng. He took a deep breath, steadied his mind, and slowly closed his eyes.

The comment about swordsmanship not being a Daoist art annoyed him. However, he also didn't want his senior sister to step up and risk being criticized or belittled. Hence, he chose to take the stage himself, meeting the hundreds of gazes head-on. His dark-blue Daoist robe seemed to conceal the light of dim stars.

Composed and poised, he maintained a calm aura, making it seem as though he were merely practicing swordplay alone on the mountain. The unfamiliar longsword in his hand appeared to be of higher quality than his training sword. At the very least, infusing it with true essence likely wouldn't shatter it.

As his qi, body, and sword became one, his form, intent, and spirit also merged seamlessly. This was the culmination of over a decade of experience in his previous life, refined further by three years of rigorous cultivation on the Wudang Mountains.

When he reopened his eyes, he found the longsword acting like an extension of him. True essence flowed into the sword, circled within, and returned to him.

A faint breeze swept past him. Though he hadn't made a single move, an indescribable aura spread across the venue.

An elderly Daoist suddenly opened his eyes and looked at Wang Sheng in astonishment.

"This is..."

Many younger cultivators who had initially expected a spectacle began to focus intently. The murmurs faded into silence.

The Spirit Convergence Realm cultivators, who had extended their spiritual consciousness, could vaguely perceive a hazy sword phantasm near Wang Sheng. Those at lesser realms could only feel the pressure he emanated—it was subtle yet enough to unsettle them.

The spiky-haired Daoist was now sitting upright. He stared at Wang Sheng's back in surprise.

A Daoist master from Mount Hua suddenly exclaimed, "That level of clarity in swordsmanship! It has to be the legendary sword heart recorded in ancient texts!"

As the words settled in the minds of the audience, Wang Sheng gently swung his longsword.

With a step, he swiftly aligned his stance with the Big Dipper. He dismantled portions of the Seven-Star Sword Formation and then seamlessly wove it into another advanced sword technique.

Swordsmanship had eight fundamental motions: cleave, pierce, flick, draw, sweep, sever, cut, and deflect.

Wang Sheng initially looked as though he was only demonstrating the basics. However, after a few strokes, the onlookers ended up seeing nothing but flickering sword phantasms. Those with weaker cultivation couldn't even discern his relatively moderate speed.

The sword descended like a rain of stars, making it appear as though the fleeting splendor of the mortal world had dissolved into an ephemeral dream.

After going through twelve consecutive stances, he intended to stop but seemingly lingered in the flow of his movements. Taking a daring leap instead, he soared about three to five zhang[1] into the air. His Daoist robe billowed as the sword emitted a crisp, clear resonance. To the audience, it looked as though a celestial being had descended from the heavens to paint the lands with bold strokes of light, leaving traces of sword radiance in the sky.

As he withdrew his sword and stilled his posture, the sword phantasms reached their clearest forms.

Wang Sheng shifted the sword to his left hand and held it behind his back. He then formed a sword finger with his right hand and pressed downward slowly. Above him, sword radiance shimmered faintly, revealing the star map of the Big Dipper. It then quietly dispersed and scattered like countless stars, transforming the area in front of the Chongxi Palace and the Moonlit Terrace into a dreamlike scene.

"How is swordsmanship not considered a Daoist art?" Wang Sheng calmly asked the audience.

Many cultivators, still immersed in the sword display, suddenly snapped out of their trance. When they looked at the stage again, Wang Sheng had already returned to Wudang's seating area.

"Senior Brother, here's your sword."

"Ah..." Smiling bitterly, Zhou Yinglong reached out to take his sword.

How can he be my junior brother? Is it too late for me to start calling him "Senior Brother" instead?

The spiky-haired Daoist, now sitting cross-legged on the bench, stared at Wang Sheng with shining eyes. He seemed eager to approach him but hesitated, his gaze showing a mix of thoughtfulness and caution. By the time he finally made up his mind, Wang Sheng had already taken his seat beside his senior sister.

Whispers of discussion began to ripple through the crowd.

1. Chinese unit of measurement, about 3 ⅓ meters. ☜