Standing barefoot on the cracked marble courtyard in front of the Imperial Palace, Chief Immortal Advisor Perfected Nine-Swords stared in horror at the twelve-ton ball of magnetized iron woks and chamber pots twenty feet away.
Every time he pinched a sword-seal to call his nine lifeblood blades back, the giant metal ball merely rattled—clunk, clatter, ding!—and a rusty cast-iron bedpan on top wobbled as if mocking him.
“My nine spirit swords...” Perfected Nine-Swords’ eye twitched violently.
Without his flying swords, a sword cultivator’s combat power was already cut in half! Worse still, the Town No-Fly Array mounted on Pei Xuan’s train car was pressing down on his shoulders like a thousand-pound millstone, keeping him from flying higher than three feet off the ground, and twenty percent of his liquid Foundation Qi was currently lighting up the streetlamps down on South Avenue!
Even so, when Perfected Nine-Swords saw Ye Guhan and General Tie Zhan charging toward him across the courtyard, his arrogant sect pride flared up one last time.
“Don’t think you’ve won just because you trapped my swords with vulgar mortal tricks!” Perfected Nine-Swords roared, slapping both palms together as a silver Rank 5 Peak Sword-Qi Shield condensed around his body. At the same time, three-foot blades of sharp silver Sword Qi shot out of his bare hands like glowing claws! “I am still a ninth-stage Foundation Establishment master! Even with my bare hands, I can tear a Rank 5 Mid junior and a Rank 4 martial brute into ribbons!”
