Suppressing the North and Manifesting Might: Chapter 132 — The Heavenly Martial Battle: The Sword That Walks the Heavens

"Lord Sword Saint, the next battle..."

Ming paid no heed to Meng Tian's words, instead stepping forward slowly and passing him by, heading toward the deserted battlefield.

Seeing that the Sword Saint had stepped out, Ren Xingtian took a deep breath, then resolutely followed.

"Tong, remember what I just told you." Before Li Qiutong could respond, Ren Xingtian had already positioned himself in front of Ming.

Li Qiutong clenched his fists in frustration, signaling the physicians Qin Shouyu and Yu Ying behind him to be ready at any moment.

"Long time no see, Lord Sword Saint. I wonder if you still remember me."

Ming’s gaze had been fixed on his opponent, yet he could not sense even a shred of martial energy from him.

The two looked at each other in bewilderment: how had this place changed so drastically, losing everything that once was?

As midnight approached, the clamor outside the tents grew louder, and the entire camp was filled with a restless, feverish energy. The Arabs were seasoned in war, having campaigned across the world, but in recent years, as the borders of the empire had stabilized, large-scale conflicts had become rare.

His logic was sound; Kim Yu-sin relied merely on the territory of Silla and, though possessing some authority, was exhausted by the pressure from Goguryeo and Baekje. Fang Jun, on the other hand, led a massive fleet across the seven seas, striking whomever he pleased, and no one dared to bare their teeth in retaliation.

He had heard that Xu Kuan had come to the manor and hurried back, but Xu Kuan had ultimately succeeded in seeing Sister Ning. And what else had he seen upon entering?

After the others had left, the man in white looked at the green lotus petal in his palm and brought it to his mouth.

These words were like carving a destination for Goujian. He was enraged to the extreme, yet he could not speak, for Gao Ru had clamped a hand over his mouth, pinning him down and forbidding him from uttering a sound.

Glancing slightly to the side, he stole a peek at the snowy, abundant curves visible through the Princess of Fangling’s slightly open bodice, feeling a sense of unease.

Upon hearing the news, the crowd below erupted into an uproar once more. To be able to cross blades with disciples of the three great sects was a blessing for them, as it would reveal just how vast the gap was between their own strength and that of the disciples from those sects.

Mo Qianyan breathed a sigh of relief. Clutching Mo Canghai, he flashed and appeared directly inside the great hall.

"Although your father doesn't say it aloud, I know his heart is filled with bitterness. The Wang family line ends with him. If your father and I were to die, how could we ever face the ancestors of the Wang clan?" Nanny Su said, heartbroken, her tears falling continuously onto Yan Xue’s arm.

"My Lady... do you not suspect the Empress?" A-Yuan asked, surprised. In her view, her mistress was a threat to the Empress.

Princess Yunxiu could not care about such things at the moment: "It’s nothing, I just came to visit my sister, it was a coincidence. I am leaving now. I won't disturb you, Master." With that, she fled in a panic.

They all understood by now that this noble lady was highly favored, and they could not afford to make a mistake.

Moreover, he had said he would only stroll through the markets and tour the lakes with the "future" her, and would ignore the "present" her from then on, as if she had been abandoned. At the very least, for a full year, she would be unable to have any contact with him.

In truth, she knew clearly that this was a malady, commonly known as the aftereffects of being too immersed in a role. But knowing it in her heart did not mean she could control it.

Kangxi pushed open the doors of the hall, seeing Yin clearly, his heart stung. With a cold expression, he said, "Are you really going to go to such lengths over a name? Get in here, now!"

"Fine, take your delicacy to the kitchen; they are all busy in there," Han Shenyan could only say with a sigh.

Watching Beiye, it was clear she was unwilling to share her secrets with anyone; how could she possibly let them slip out?

Consort Guo spoke to herself, but since no one paid her any mind, she eventually trailed off. She returned to her room, feeling humiliated.

However, the Earl's manor now had a two-part chance of winning, for Old Madame Jiang and the Second Master Jiang could not bear to lose that arm.

He looked at her, his gaze flickering. Especially as she struggled, the flash of pale skin before his eyes caused a fire to ignite in his brain, burning away his reason and swallowing his consciousness.