Chapter 127: Sword Intent of the Five Elements

Luoling Mountain is a mountain of no renown to the world at large. Yet, in the endless ages to come, it would never be forgotten. Few, however, knew the origin of its name.

"Luo" stands for Nan Luo, and "Ling" for Bei Ling. This is the derivation of the name Luoling Mountain.

The name Nan Luo has been heard by many in later generations, but the woman who stood upon the peak of Luoling Mountain and declared to all the living things of the mountain, "From this day forth, this mountain shall be called Luoling Mountain," has long since faded from memory.

After the Great Wind was slain, Nan Luo shifted Quan Yin to the front of the Luoling Cave dwelling within the mountain. In the sky, only Nan Luo and the woman in purple remained, speaking in hushed tones with gentle smiles.

Though Nan Luo’s expression remained stoic, the long-absent joy in his words was palpable. The woman in purple seemed to have forgotten her wounds and the fact that she had just been hunted, as if all unpleasantness were but dust on a mirror, bright and clear once a breeze blew past.

Suddenly, Nan Luo turned his gaze toward the south. A figure approached slowly from the horizon, clutching a long sword with a golden scabbard, draped in robes of pale gold, with even a stray lock of beard on his chest shimmering gold.

The man walked through the void without a sound, stirring no clouds, gathering no dust. He displayed neither killing intent nor desire for battle. He was the Forefather of Golden Light.

Yet, from the moment he appeared, Nan Luo became exceptionally cautious. He could sense that this man was no less formidable than the Great Witch Hou Yi, and perhaps even his superior.

"Why have you come, Immortal Master?" Nan Luo asked aloud, watching the Forefather of Golden Light, who stepped through the void as if untouched by the impurities of the world.

"I come for you," the Forefather of Golden Light replied faintly, his demeanor ethereal and transcendent.

"Oh? I am quite unfamiliar with you, Immortal Master. Have I offended you in some way?" Despite his internal vigilance, Nan Luo spoke with steady composure.

"If we speak of offense, one of my children did die by your blade. However, that is not why I have come," the Forefather replied unhurriedly.

"Heh, if that is the case, then what is your purpose?" Nan Luo’s brows twitched on his somewhat stoic face, and he asked in confusion.

"I have come for a sword."

"The Qingyan Sword?"

"Yes, and no."

Nan Luo did not ask what was, and what was not.

Silence fell, and a wind rose from nowhere.

Unbeknownst to them, two clusters of clouds appeared above their heads—a multicolored cloud above Nan Luo, and a golden one above the Forefather of Golden Light.

They emerged slowly in the void; at first, like smoke and mist, but soon they grew into thick, swirling masses, forming an eye of the storm centered upon the two men.

*Clang...* The sound of a sword hummed through the void.

Both struck at almost the same moment; one golden and one silver flash of light vanished in an instant.

Two surges of killing intent erupted into the sky, and the clouds churned violently. In a heartbeat, they fused, turning into a pitch-black mass, dark as ink and deep as night. The ink-colored clouds rolled, pregnant with infinite malevolence, and strings of electric sparks flashed within them.

The world plunged into darkness, obscured by black clouds. Only Nan Luo and the Forefather of Golden Light, each shrouded in a layer of clear light, stood out with crystalline clarity.

*Ding...*

Their swords met, slid, and crossed.

The battle between Nan Luo and the Forefather of Golden Light unfolded with the clarity of a clash between mortals—each strike and stance distinct. At times swift and sharp, at others slow and heavy, then suddenly ethereal and illusory, devoid of earthly fire.

To an outsider, it seemed like a simple exchange of swordplay, but only the participants could grasp the peril within.

Every stroke of Nan Luo’s sword contained the Great Dao of the Five Elements: the heaviness and simplicity of Earth, the agility and lingering nature of Water, the vitality and subtlety of Wood, the sharpness and dominance of Metal, and the wild, unbridled spirit of Fire. These manifestations formed an entirely new Sword Intent of the Five Elements.

Nan Luo realized upon the first exchange that the Forefather of Golden Light also employed the Metal Sword Intent. Yet, his was exceptionally pure, pushing the sharpness and the unstoppable nature of the Metal element to its absolute limit. Nan Luo began to suspect that the Forefather had truly grasped the essence of the Metal Dao and was on the verge of stepping through the gateway to the Dao realm.

As the Five Elements Sword Intent rotated, Nan Luo discovered that the Fire Sword Intent held a subtle suppression over the Forefather’s Metal. Yet, this restraint was negligible, and whenever he switched to the Wood Sword Intent, he found himself unable to withstand the pressure channeled through the opponent’s blade.

In the Primordial Era, few chose the sword as their sole magical treasure or primary means of attack. Without the realization of Sword Intent, the sword’s utility was limited and lacked power compared to the myriad strange treasures and spells of the world. Even with the realization of Sword Intent, lethality remained insufficient. Only when that intent was continuously refined and reached a pinnacle did it gain power that surpassed many supernatural abilities.

Like a rebirth, the process of refining Sword Intent was one of transformation and sublimation. This intent could not be grasped through quiet meditation alone; it required the edge of life and death, or the experience of great upheavals to reach its zenith.

To be precise, Sword Intent is the intent of the heart; refining it is the tempering of one's soul. When finally fused with the Great Dao of the world, it becomes the Sword Dao.

Wind rose, clouds surged, lightning flashed, and thunder roared.

The figures of Nan Luo and the Forefather of Golden Light became indistinguishable, leaving only a mass of churning air in the void. Endless sword light and brilliance, like smoke and mist, turned their battleground into a chaotic space.

*Ding... Ding...*

The sound of clashing swords was ceaseless. In this world, all other sounds had vanished, save for the crackle of electric sparks within the churning clouds.

*Hiss... Hiss...*

No words were exchanged. There was no blood feud between them, but the moment the Forefather of Golden Light spoke of coming for the sword, Nan Luo knew this battle was inevitable.

"For a sword... yes, and no." Three parts were for the Qingyan Sword, but seven parts were for the Sword Dao itself.

Those who walk the path of the sword may love their blades, but they will die for the Dao. Nan Luo did not know if he would become such a person, but he knew the man before him was one who pursued the ultimate limit of the sword—the Dao and transcendence had become his entire purpose for living.

*Ding...* A fragment of a golden blade suddenly flew out from the vortex, and the incessant clashing stopped abruptly.

The air current dissipated rapidly. A faint red line appeared across the throat of the Forefather of Golden Light, yet no blood flowed. The life had clearly left his eyes.

He still clutched the broken half of his golden sword tightly in his hand. Only then did his body begin to fall slowly toward Luoling Mountain, like an autumn leaf withered and detached, drifting in the wind, unable to escape its fate of returning to the earth to rot and become soil.

Nan Luo’s form, manifested through the Five Elements, had long since dispersed. The Forefather’s grasp of the Sword Dao was in no way inferior to Nan Luo’s, and his fusion of the Metal Sword Intent had even surpassed him, but Nan Luo’s application of the sword had entered a new realm.

Slicing mountains, turning silk—this was pure swordsmanship. Nan Luo fought by commanding his sword from afar, reaching across thousands of miles, changing form at will. In a single stroke, it held a sense of: "No matter your thousand supernatural abilities or myriad schemes, I shall sever them with a single blade."

Multicolored light and mist coalesced in the void, once again forming a person.

He wore a sword at his waist and held a clear, round mirror in his hand.

He looked around and suddenly said in a clear voice, "I presume you have all come for my life. What, then, are you waiting for?"

Nan Luo’s words held no arrogance or malice, yet they carried the air of meeting whatever might come. Having cultivated for decades, Nan Luo remembered that he had only ever wished to protect his people; he had never imagined a day when he would speak such words—lacking in aggression, yet imbued with a subtle, sweeping disdain.

As his voice faded, a relaxed tone drifted from the void: "Heh, I do not want your life, but I have come to take another's."

As the voice spoke, a small, jade-white gourd appeared out of thin air. The gourd possessed eyebrows, eyes, a nose, and a mouth.

Two hazy beams of light suddenly shot from the eyes of the jade-white gourd—ethereal, seemingly containing the infinite Dao, yet cryptic and unfathomable—aimed directly at the woman in purple upon the snowy rock.