Book 6 Chapter 25

Who is the Master?

"Speaking of which, who is the master in charge of this Heavenly Sword Sect's training camp?"

Suddenly, you're curious about

Luo Hak asked Nan Gongsheng.

We're only a day away from Mudang Mountain.

As the time approached, a question that I had been consciously trying to put out of my mind reared its ugly head.

"Seo…you're not a master, are you?"

The old man was shaking with anxiety. Suddenly, every bone in his body ached from the beating he had taken the year before.

"No way!"

There was only one master they were referring to. Suddenly, Nan Gongsheng felt his heart sink.

"Don't you ever say that horrible thing again! If you ever say anything like that again, I'm done with you. "

Namgungsang's voice was filled with sincerity.

"Well, I guess not!"

"Of course!"

Namgungsang spoke in a firm voice, as if he were hypnotizing himself. One nightmare was enough.

"Right?"

The voice of the old man has diminished to the sound of a mosquito. He is still uneasy.

"I will!"

There was no confidence in Namgung Sang's voice. A black shadow of anxiety hung among them.

I'm pretty sure I've already fallen asleep for the night. It's going to be a long night.

The Hsinchu First Daoist Wudang School, located in Gyun County, Hubei Province! Better known as the Wudang Sword School, it was one of the two great mountain ranges of the Old School, along with Shaolin.

A thick cloudy sea stretched out around Tianzhu Peak, the highest peak of the 72 peaks, 36 mountains and 24 valleys of Wudang Mountain. From the summit of this peak, also known as Jiaxiao Peak, a lone taoist was now looking down on the mountain.

"You're finally here……."

Mu Zhenzhi stood on the summit of Jiaxiao Peak on Mount Wudang and watched the afterglow of dusk paint the west red.

His eyes were filled with a deep sense of wonder as he gazed at the sunlight streaming in and the mountains submerged in the cloudy sea.

His chest-length, snow-white hair and snowflake-like eyebrows were the hallmarks of freshness. However, she is short and skinny, giving her a slightly stern appearance.

A wise man, a wise man, a wise man!

Fifty years without a sword!

He was a master of the two-edged sword, now revered within the shamanic sect as one of the Eight Swords of the Shaman, unrivaled by any other sword.

Today was the day.

When he heard that the Heavenly Martial Academy was expecting a group of talented people from the Hundred Islands who were said to be flying and long, Master Mu Zhen, a former elder of the Shaman Sect, was very excited. As the person in charge of this year's Shaman Training Center, he felt quite responsible, and he had his own plans and aspirations.

But his expectations, aspirations, hopes, and intentions are shattered by a single young man. Like water and oil, the two were destined to never mix.