The Saintly Sword Sect, Part I

“This is beautiful,” Wu Jian breathed.

Hua Xue almost seemed to thrust out her chest with pride. “That sword is called Pale Moon. I found it a long time ago in a legacy tomb. I doubt you will ever find a better sword on this world than the one you now hold.”

Wu Jian believed her. He could feel the sword’s will after Hua Xue handed the weapon over. It almost felt alive. A vibrant thrum raced through his body. If he had to describe what he felt with words, he would say it felt like the sword’s chi was mingling with his own.

It was a heavy sword, but he could lift and swing it with relative ease, even though he was only using one hand. Pale Moon’s weight allowed him to gain a ton of momentum whenever he swung downward. The veins in his arm bulged as he stopped the sword and reversed direction, swinging it upward.

“Thank you,” Wu Jian said to Hua Xue.

The older woman smiled behind her veil. “You are quite welcome.”