Sword Master Jun Wuxin (2)

Before then, there were even a few older disciples still chattering leisurely in the hall, their conversations filled with mundane banter and idle gossip.

However, the sudden appearance of the youthful cultivator in black robes silenced their chatter instantly, as if his very presence commanded a sacred hush.

Although he had not uttered a single word, every subtle action he took radiated a profound, almost hypnotic grace that entranced anyone who dared to meet his gaze.

When he stepped forward, it was as if a treasure sword had descended from the heavens—a luminous, ethereal blade that hovered between reality and myth.

Yet curiously, the sword itself (being the black robed cultivator) remained unsheathed, suspended in a state that evoked both reverence and terror in the hearts of the assembled disciples.

Without a word, the youth casually summoned a futon from seemingly thin air and sat upon it.