Full Comprehension Level: Sixty Years Of Sword Pavilion

The entrance of Medicine Pill is like a light-flavored candy. Before it is carefully tasted, it has turned into a wonderful breath, passing through the intestines and abdomen, and scattered into the limbs and bones.

Then, Han Muye only felt a slight heat all over his body.

Gone?

Excellent solid pill, that's all?

Hesitating again and again, Han Muye put away another solid pill.

This thing can be exchanged for more than a dozen Spirit Stones, but it can't be wasted.

Perhaps, this is the reason for his Ninth-Rank aptitude, not to blame others for refining pills.

Sitting at Lotus Position, Han Muye narrowed his eyes.

Since stepping into the Nine Profound Sword Sect, he has already obtained a lot of things about cultivation by relying on his full-level comprehension.

The means of refining swords, the ability to refine Medicine Pill, and a total of four types of swordsmanship.

There are three kinds of Xuanyuan swordsmanship, Yiye, Dumu, and the cracked stone that I learned from Teacher Lin in the afternoon.

A profound swordsmanship, destroying mountains.

The comprehension of swordsmanship pictures is memorable, but it does not mean that practice is not necessary.

Today in the transfer power hall, with a big sword in hand, Han Muye has clearly understood all the essence of the stone-splitting swordsmanship, but he only exerts 50% of his skills.

It seems that the way to practice is not just relying on understanding, but also requires diligent practice.

Just like that coach Lin, who wielded thousands of swords and destroyed mountains with one sword.

I don't know if it was the effect of swallowing a solid pill or the lack of a dual cultivation sword to disturb him at night, Han Muye slept well all night.

Early the next morning, Han Muye randomly found a sword and went to the backyard of Jiange to practice.

A leaf, a single tree, a cracked stone, and a mountain.

Without the support of Cultivation Base, pure sword skills, Sword Ray condensed in front of Han Muye.

After several times, the four types of swordsmanship have become indistinguishable from each other, and only turned into an endless dark halo.

For Han Muye, who has comprehended the essence of the four types of swordsmanship, it doesn't matter whether the swordsmanship has its shape or not, the key is its artistic conception.

In one leaf, the sword protrudes like a leaf, and there is no trace at all, as if an antelope hangs its horns.

A single tree, a single tree is difficult to support, but it is firm and strong, not bent or broken, not afraid of wind and frost, and there is firmness in the sword strokes.

Cracking rocks and destroying mountains is simple, stable, ruthless, accurate or not, no big deal.

A sword that can smash mountains, at the top of the mountain or at the foot of the mountain, is the same.

When Huang Laoliu came out, he saw Han Muye slashing with a sword.

He grinned and said nothing.

In his opinion, Han Muye swallowed a solid pill, and his qi and blood had nowhere to go.

There is no place to purify the fire, then toss it a few more times.

It's just that he didn't see that tiny cracks appeared on the stone wall in front of Han Muye.

This is a crack eroded by some kind of force.

After breakfast, Jiange closed the door of the pavilion, and then Huang Laoliu walked to the rows of wooden racks with a solemn expression.

"These swords are all human swords, from the beginning of Peiyuan to the peak level of Foundation Establishment."

Huang Laoliu had a solemn expression on his face, and stretched out his hand to point forward: "Swords have a spirit, and we watch swordsmen draw swords without blaspheming the spirit in the sword."

Bowing forward, he held a greased sackcloth in his hand and walked to the wooden frame.

"Kuraga-"

Huang Laoliu stretched out his hand and pulled out a long sword, then his face was solemn, neither sad nor happy, with a twinkle in his eyes, he raised his hand and wiped it from the edge of the long sword to the hilt with a linen.

After going back and forth three times, he put the long sword back into its sheath and let out a sigh of relief.

"did you see it?"

"We should treat these swords with awe."

Looking up at Han Muye, Huang Laoliu said solemnly, "These new sword-refining tools are fine. If you are not sincere, the swords will not be sheathed if they have been nurtured for a long time."

Han Muye nodded.

He knew this. He had made a fool of himself before.

Following the example of Huang Laoliu, Han Muye first bowed and prayed, then raised his hand to draw his sword, stroked the sackcloth, and Sword Ray was as clear as water.

The long sword returned to its sheath, Huang Lao Liu opened his mouth on the opposite side, and finally lowered his head and muttered: "What a natural sword watcher..."

The two take charge of each side, draw the sword, wipe it, and then return the sword to its sheath.

As long as Han Muye puts his hand on the hilt, he can perceive the length and weight of the long sword and the refining method.

Initially, he wiped very quickly.

The swords here were only refined, and there was not much information for him to gain insight.

Until the back, when he reached out to hold the hilt of a sword, he was shocked, and a picture fell into his mind.

A young swordsman wearing a green robe, with a sword rampant, carefree.

Sword Ray is like water, with waves of smoke.

Xuanyuan swordsmanship, clear water.

A cool breath penetrated Han Muye's body.

This time, he could clearly feel the cool breath circulating in his body, and then dissipated into his chest and abdomen.

What is this breath? Curious in his heart, Han Muye raised his hand and drew another long sword.

Another screen appears.

An old man in a gray robe only cultivated one sword, and this sword shattered the wind and thunder, blocking the mountains.

"Zi Yan, it's finally time to say goodbye."

The old man whispered softly, and then a long sword ignited a prairie, burning a hundred miles of mountains and rivers.

When the cloud and smoke dissipated, the old man was no longer there, only a mottled long sword was there.

Five Profound Swordsmanship, Liaoyuan.

"boom--"

A tyrannical force suddenly poured into Han Muye's body, and the scorching aura of magma instantly ravaged his Meridians, causing him to tremble as if convulsed.

"Dang--"

The long sword fell to the ground, and the opposite Huang Laoliu rushed over.

"Han boy, what's wrong with you?"

Han Muye turned his head and grinned.

Then he intuited that the entire chest seemed to explode, and a force of flame penetrated into it.

A mouthful of blood spurted out, and Han Muye's body softened and collapsed to the ground.

...

In the haze, Han Muye heard Huang Laoliu's voice.

"Thank you old ancestor for taking action."

When he opened his eyes, in front of Han Muye, in addition to Huang Laoliu, there was an old man with white hair.

The old man held a mottled short sword in his hand, and it was Han Muye who had drawn the sword before.

"Although this sword is only of ordinary quality, it is the sword of Tao Ran's ancestor who rebelled at the beginning." Holding the short sword, the old man's face showed a strange look.

"Ancestor's sword?" Huang Laoliu was stunned, and hurriedly said: "Old Ancestor's sword, doesn't it contain Sword intent——"

"Ancestor, is he okay with this injury?"

"Sword Qi is in my heart, see him good fortune if there is anything to do." An old voice came.

The old man had a calm expression on his face. Seeing that Han Muye woke up, he put the dagger on the wooden stand, turned around and left.

Huang Laoliu shouted from behind, and then whispered: "Respectfully send the ancestors off."

Han Muye watched the old man walk up the stairs to the second floor of the sword pavilion and disappeared.

"Don't look at it, we are the three of us in Jiange."

"When you see him in the future, you can call the ancestor directly."

Huang Laoliu showed a hint of envy and longing on his face, and said softly: "Jiange Guanjian is a 100-year-old, and the middle position of Jiu Xuan Jianmen is the same retired elder."

Ancestor?

In this sword pavilion, there has always been a third person?

Han Muye froze for a moment.

But think about it, in these three-story pavilions, he and Huang Laoliu are only responsible for the first floor, the second floor and the third floor, and naturally they need a stronger person to sit in.

"Sixth brother, didn't you say that it is difficult for a sword watcher to live for a year, and to live for ten years is the existence of Sect deacon?"

"This one, has lived a lifetime?"

It turned out that the sword-watcher can live for a period of time.

How did this guy survive?

Seeing Han Muye's expression, Huang Laoliu snorted and waved his hand: "Boy, don't think about it so much, you have Sword Qi in your chest, it's hard to say if you can survive three months."

Speaking of this, his expression softened slightly, looking at Han Muye: "If you want something to eat, something to drink—"

"If you want to do something, do it."

Picking up the sackcloth for wiping the long sword, Huang Lao Liu patted him on the shoulder and said, "Go and rest, I'll wipe the rest of the sword."

After he finished speaking, he sighed softly, and hunched over to the front of the wooden frame.

"Kuraga-"

The sound of the sword being drawn came.

Han Muye was a little dazed.

You have only three months left to live?

Isn't it a good year?

Sword Qi into the chest and abdomen?

Sword Qi?

As soon as the thought moved, he was shocked, and a picture in his mind exploded instantly.

At this time, he saw the picture in his chest and abdomen.

A group of crimson flames tumbling in a radius of ten feet, surrounded by cyan clouds, grayish-yellow rustic, and a clear spring like fog.

Then, in the empty space around, there are traces of faint breath, which are constantly intertwined and intertwined.

This is Sword Qi?

Where are these Sword Qi?