Volume Two: The Boy of a Thousand Faces, Truth in Disguise Chapter Eighty: The Sword of Vengeance, the Dragon-Nailing Chain

Huo Xialan smiled, “Little brother, what kind of fate is this?” Well then, today your sister will give you a lesson. She drew her longsword, named Fury.

Of the Dragon’s nine sons, the second is Fury, bloodthirsty and fond of combat, often etched onto knife guards and sword hilts. Huo Xialan’s sword bears the name Fury and is naturally engraved with its likeness. The sword’s maker was Huo’s family’s master smith, Huo the Divine Artisan, who, alongside Qi the Clever, was renowned as the “Twin Divinities” of the forging world after the era of the Bronze-Armed Ghost.

This sword originally had eight sister blades, each corresponding to one of the Dragon’s nine sons, collectively known as the Nine Dragon Swords. Fury possessed the most intense killing aura and was the thirstiest for blood. To wield it signified the tacit acknowledgment as the family heir, for she was the only child of her branch’s generation.

But things were different now. Huo Xialan wanted to give this sword away. She disliked the family’s intricate politics and had no desire to be clan leader. Now that a little brother had appeared, she was eager to acknowledge him and let Huo Ye inherit the clan, so she could freely hunt disasters without worry.

Hearing footsteps, Huo Xialan used her lightness skill to leap onto a bamboo branch; though the bamboo shouldn’t have borne her weight, not a single bend marred its stalk. Huo Ye, wearing his mask, entered her vision, empty-handed, as if he carried no weapons.

“Why doesn’t he carry weapons? Isn’t he a twin-blade wielder? Is he trying not to reveal his identity?” Huo Xialan guessed the truth.

Huo Ye had already located Huo Xialan by sound, but avoided alerting her—true hunters must be patient. He feigned searching the area, all the while wary of her attack. After all, aside from her adept Tai Chi, she had never shown any other skills before him; caution was wise.

“Tai Chi, hmm?” Huo Ye mused. “Using softness to overcome hardness, blending tough and gentle, slow against fast—both Xiao Yu and I fight with speed, so she’s tricky. In the old era, few possessed true mastery, but now, with the rise of abilities, the fusion of ancient arts and powers is something I’ve never seen.”

Yet, the more challenging it seemed, the more exhilarated Huo Ye felt. Though it was two against one, he anticipated a fierce battle.

Huo Xialan pondered as well, but when she remembered this was a one-against-two contest, she suddenly realized only Huo Ye was present. Where was Shangguan Jade Butterfly?

She instinctively turned, only to see a streak of ghostly blue sword light targeting her throat. Huo Xialan struck Jade Butterfly’s sword, forcing her back as she leapt away. It was astonishing—the opponent nearly slit her throat from behind in a fight of this caliber. How had Jade Butterfly mastered such assassination skills?

It was not learned, but innate. Shangguan Jade Butterfly’s ability was sensing electromagnetic waves—a passive skill—yet she could actively manipulate her own waves, making her opponent’s instincts believe she was part of them, unable to sense any threat: the so-called “sixth sense suppression.”

A creature’s survival instinct is its most primal ability, surpassing any combat or survival skill. When that instinct cannot detect a murderous presence, even mistaking the killer for itself, then the one with killing intent melts into the night, able to silently take lives.

Huo Xialan was midair when Huo Ye sprang upward, jumping above her and chopping down with his leg to smash her to the ground.

But Huo Xialan twisted midair, seized Huo Ye’s leg, and used his momentum to swing him in a wide arc, slamming him forcefully to the ground.

Huo Ye quickly sat up; in hand-to-hand, he was no match—she was too skilled.

But before he could react, Huo Xialan thrust her sword, her flowing sleeves fluttering in the wind like a celestial being descending.

“Go!” Huo Ye dodged, but Huo Xialan pursued relentlessly—slash after slash, chop, sweep, crush, cleave. Huo Ye barely evaded each stroke, growing increasingly strained. He could not afford injury; with his current identity as Night Rain Warm Crow, he couldn’t use his tiered stem cell recovery powers, lest he reveal too much.

Huo Xialan sliced through a bamboo stalk; Huo Ye grabbed it, using it to block her sword.

But Fury’s edge was sharper than any mortal blade; it sliced the bamboo like tofu, leaving a perfectly smooth cut. Yet Huo Ye had not meant it as a shield but as a weapon.

He calculated Huo Xialan’s attack angle, using her own strikes to carve the bamboo into a stick. He ducked beneath a sword stroke, then swept the stick in a broad arc.

Huo Xialan leapt aside, intending to chop the stick, but felt a chill as Jade Butterfly attacked from behind. She turned to block, only to see Huo Ye, back arched like a drawn bow, pivoting on his waist, feet shattering the earth as he launched the bamboo stick like an arrow—she was beset from both sides.

Indeed, two against one, and both adversaries were top-tier. She would have to use her abilities. Huo Xialan took a deep breath; internal arts focused on breath, and for an ability-user, powers flowed from respiration—hers were formidable.

Serpent Dragon Encirclement!

Huo Xialan performed a circular slash, drawing a large ring around herself. A visible aura spread outward, jolting Jade Butterfly back and shattering the airborne bamboo stick.

The engraving of Fury on her sword hilt seemed to come alive, radiating a chilling killing intent. Huo Ye, behind his mask, glimpsed something coiled around Huo Xialan, though nothing was truly there—a phantom presence, fading in and out.

Huo Xialan landed. Behind his mask, Huo Ye’s eyes showed a hint of a smile—indeed, a master. His gaze grew hungry; this ancient, elegant power stirred something deep in his blood. He yearned to learn, to master these graceful martial arts. But he quickly dismissed the thought; the Huo family would never teach an outsider, and he knew the folly of overreaching.

Huo Ye sighed—without a weapon, he couldn’t use his Silk Calamity technique in front of Jade Butterfly, so he was left with his fingernails.

Instantly, Huo Ye’s nails elongated. Three forms: Hundred Streams Shatter the Storm!

“Nails? What kind of attack is that?” Huo Xialan dodged, but found her clothes slashed as if by invisible blades. “Is it wind force? Something akin to sword energy or sword aura?”

Yet she could not afford distraction. Jade Butterfly advanced, her sword the only weapon present, so she pressed the frontal assault.

Both were skilled in close combat, and two against one saw Huo Xialan finally forced onto the defensive. But she was not so easily defeated. Their fierce battle lasted half an hour, ending only when Jade Butterfly finally pressed her sword to Huo Xialan’s neck.

“You win,” Huo Xialan said. “Little sister Shangguan, lower your sword—I’ll admit defeat after a few words.”

Jade Butterfly glanced at Huo Ye, received his signal, and lowered her blade.

“Why didn’t you use a weapon?” Huo Xialan asked Huo Ye.

He thought a moment, replying, “Thank you for your concern, senior. I haven’t yet found a weapon that suits me.”

Huo Xialan smiled, “That’s perfect. I see you possess extraordinary bone structure, well-suited to one of our Huo family’s martial arts. This art requires unique qualities—not everyone can practice it; even our family lacks a suitable candidate. After fighting you, I believe you’re the ideal student, so I’ll pass it on to you.”

This was Huo Xialan’s private wish—to deepen her bond with her brother. If the first family martial art he learned came from her, then when Huo Ye was eventually acknowledged, she would be the one closest to him, especially with their aunt’s fate uncertain.

And if Huo Ye mastered the Huo family arts, his lineage would be undeniable; the other branches would have no grounds for objection. He was of the main line—why deny him?

Huo Ye hesitated, “Isn’t that… inappropriate?” Yet he secretly swallowed, the urge rising within him again.

Huo Xialan shook her head, “You needn’t worry. A mere martial art, given to one with fate—our Huo family is not so stingy.”

Huo Ye thanked her, “Then thank you, senior.”

“No need for formalities. Leave me an address; tomorrow I’ll place the manual and matching weapon there for you to collect.” Huo Xialan stepped before him, glancing at the watching Jade Butterfly, then surprisingly reached out and ruffled Huo Ye’s hair.

Jade Butterfly was dumbfounded; Huo Ye even more so—what was going on?

“Study well,” Huo Xialan said, finishing her hair-ruffling. She tapped the attendance button, and left.

The Night Rain Crow & Ice Dancer team wins.

Fragments of the world began to scatter, the edges of the shattered realm closing in on the pair.

Huo Ye stood stunned, his heart surging with waves, “What was that? Where did that neighborly big sister vibe come from? Come back here! This isn’t over! Is a man’s head something you can casually touch?”

Jade Butterfly remained silent, gripping her sword with both hands, emulating a certain white-haired girl by puffing her cheeks, eyes filled with resentment. Her face flushed red with jealousy.

A flash of white light, and the two were sent back to the hall.

Huo Xialan, now far away, looked at her hands and mused aloud, “Is this what it feels like to be an older sister? Bullying a little brother really is quite fun.”