Chapter 103: Is that even allowed?

Wei Jun feigned offense, but his grin never wavered. "Big words for someone still wet behind the ears. Let's see if your sword matches your mouth." Wei Jun laughed, brandishing his sword with dramatic flair. "We'll see who's going to learn respect tonight," 

The two stood on opposite sides, their stances wobbly but their spirits high. Dao Wei couldn't help but tease his senior brother further. "Old cargo, I'm about to send you into retirement."

Wei Jun's eyes widened in mock offense. "W-what? Hah! You'll regret that, Junior Brother!"

"You already look like you're about to fall over," Dao Wei shot back, laughing. "You're the one who'll be yielding, old man."

Lu Shen, unable to contain himself, burst into laughter, nearly spilling his drink. "I can't believe what I'm seeing," he said between fits of laughter. "Junior Brother, you're pushing it."

Dao Wei shrugged, his smirk never fading. "He needs to be taught some respect."

"Respect? You're the one who needs a lesson!" Wei Jun replied, his voice rising with drunken determination.

The moonlight bathed the scene as the three brothers stood in the garden, their laughter still echoing through the night. The fight hadn't even started, but the bond they shared had already cemented itself—brothers beneath the moon, free from the weight of the world.

"Enough talk," Dao Wei said, raising his sword lazily. "Let's fight, third brother."

His aura began to grow, a sudden wave of energy washing over the garden. Even in his drunken state, Dao Wei's presence was formidable, his power undeniable. The atmosphere around them shifted as the playful banter gave way to a more serious air.

Lu Shen, still seated and drinking, shook his head in amusement. "This is going to be good."

Despite the alcohol clouding their senses, both Wei Jun and Dao Wei stood ready, their swords glinting under the soft light of the moon. The brothers, caught between the haze of Spirit Wine and their desire to outdo each other, prepared for a battle that would settle their playful rivalry—at least for tonight.

"One hundre— Thousand… errr," Dao Wei pointed his sword lazily towards Wei Jun, his eyes half-closed, "Whatever sword fall." The words tumbled from his mouth as if he wasn't sure what technique he had just named, and the playful smirk on his face only added to the absurdity of the situation.

"What?" Lu Shen, seated nearby with his cup of Spirit Wine still in hand, raised a brow in confusion. He knew the Thousand Sword Fall. It was the seventh move of the Falling Mirage Sword Art—a highly advanced sword technique—but what Dao Wei just uttered was anything but coherent. There was no such thing as a "Whatever Sword Fall." The entire fight had been proving abortive from the start, with Dao Wei and Wei Jun clearly far too drunk to execute anything seriously.

However, despite the strange beginning, something began to shift in the atmosphere. The air, once calm, now swirled with an unnatural energy. The wind picked up, swirling into spirals as if nature itself was responding to the battle. It felt as though a god was descending from the heavens, ready to destroy the earth. Right then, Dao Wei's intent shot to the sky, a towering force that made the moon seem dimmer in comparison.

Lu Shen's eyes widened. "This can't be..." 

From nothing, an infinite number of ethereal swords materialized around Dao Wei, shimmering in the moonlight. These weren't simple sword auras; they were forged entirely from his will and intent, like spectral blades plucked from another realm. The sheer volume and presence of the swords were overwhelming, filling the sky with a storm of gleaming edges.

On the other side of the stage, Wei Jun hiccuped loudly before laughing. "B—hic… Broken Sword Slash!" he slurred, drawing his own sword, the War God, and pointing it skyward. His aura flared with sudden intensity, and to Lu Shen's utter disbelief, another barrage of ethereal swords appeared, mirroring Dao Wei's.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The sky lit up as the two waves of ethereal swords collided with each other in mid-air, sparks flying in every direction. The clanging sound of the clashes rang through the garden, the metallic echoes loud enough to deafen anyone close by. Each clash sent out rippling shockwaves, shaking the earth beneath their feet and causing the very air around them to tremble. Despite the intensity of their techniques, neither brother seemed to be taking the fight seriously. It was as if they were testing each other, learning from the chaos they were creating.

Lu Shen, watching from the sidelines, was caught between laughter and awe. "What is this?" he muttered to himself, unable to process what he was witnessing. This wasn't a fight; it was more like two children playing pretend, except their pretend moves were powerful enough to level mountains.

Dao Wei swung his sword in an exaggerated, almost comical manner. "Old cargo!" he yelled at Wei Jun, a nickname he had adopted for his senior brother, who, despite being just a few years older, was already showing signs of aging thanks to his endless cultivation sessions. "You can't even keep up with my Whatever Sword Fall! Might as well surrender now."

Wei Jun burst into drunken laughter. "Who are you calling old cargo, brat? You can't even name your moves properly! My Broken Sword Slash is far superior, watch this!"

With that, Wei Jun sent another wave of ethereal swords hurtling toward Dao Wei, their shimmering edges cutting through the air like divine punishment. Dao Wei, however, didn't flinch. In fact, he lazily raised his hand, holding Tian— with a flick of his wrist. He held it with one hand, not even bothering to stand in a proper stance.

"You call that a technique? Please," Dao Wei scoffed, twirling his sword around as if it weighed nothing. "Third brother, if you don't put some real effort into this, I might just fall asleep. Here, let me teach you something."

He pointed Tian toward Wei Jun, his gaze sharp despite the sluggishness of his movements. "Sword Scatter!"

The ethereal swords surrounding Dao Wei suddenly shattered into a million pieces, each fragment flying toward Wei Jun in a chaotic, unpredictable manner. The fragments didn't follow any logical path, twisting and turning in the air like leaves caught in a storm.

Wei Jun's eyes widened in mock horror. "What kind of drunk technique is that?!" he shouted, but instead of retreating, he braced himself, laughing all the while. "Fine, let's see how you handle this! Sword M—hic... Sword Mountain Fall!"

With a dramatic swing of his sword, Wei Jun summoned an ethereal mountain of swords that descended from the sky, clashing with Dao Wei's chaotic fragments. The sound of metal on metal filled the air, each strike resonating with a deep, thunderous boom.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The shockwaves from their clash were enough to level small mountains, and several parts of the garden were already being torn apart by their drunken battle. Trees were uprooted, and the once serene garden was now a warzone. Yet, despite the destruction, neither of the brothers seemed to be taking this seriously. There was no killing intent, no malice—just a strange, chaotic harmony between them. Their attacks, though powerful, lacked the sharpness of a true duel. Instead, it felt as if they were dancing, learning from each other with each clash.

Lu Shen, still seated with his cup of Spirit Wine, watched in disbelief. "What... what the hell is going on?" he muttered, his eyes darting between the two of them. Both Dao Wei and Wei Jun were clearly drunk, yet they were pulling off techniques that should have been impossible in their condition. Dao Wei, of course, was a prodigy, already exhibiting the potential for godhood. But Wei Jun? The senior brother wasn't far behind, his aura growing with every move, as if he was learning and improving on the spot.

Dao Wei grinned lazily at Wei Jun. "You're still calling yourself second brother after this performance, old cargo?"

Wei Jun let out a loud guffaw. "Old cargo? I'll show you old cargo!" With a sudden burst of energy, Wei Jun leaped into the air, bringing his sword down in a massive arc. "Sword Heaven Piercer!"

The ground cracked beneath him as his sword fell, but Dao Wei was ready. With a flick of his wrist, he sent Tian spinning into the air, intercepting Wei Jun's attack with a precise strike.

Clang!

The impact sent shockwaves through the air, rattling Lu Shen's cup as he tried to take another sip of his wine. "Are you two seriously going to destroy the entire garden?" Lu Shen called out, barely able to contain his laughter. "You're not even fighting properly!"

Dao Wei, his movements still slow and exaggerated, pointed his sword at Wei Jun again. "You should yield, third brother," he said with a smirk. "Before you embarrass yourself even more."

Wei Jun snorted. "Yield? Me? Ha! You'd have to be dreaming."

They continued trading blows, each one more absurd than the last. Swords clashed, ethereal blades filled the sky, and yet the entire exchange felt more like a game than a battle. Each time one of them attacked, the other would counter with an equally ridiculous move. It was as if they were competing to see who could come up with the most nonsensical technique.

Finally, after what felt like an hour of clashing, both of them stopped, panting heavily but grinning from ear to ear. The garden around them was a mess, with trees uprooted, rocks shattered, and the ground torn apart. Yet, amid the chaos, the three brothers stood together, laughing.

"Enough talk, let's fight." Dao Wei said, his aura growing once more, the drunken haze beginning to lift from his eyes. As the moonlight bathed the three of them in its soft glow, Dao Wei's fighting spirit was ignited and there was no going back until one of them yielded.