A Glimpse of the Truth

"Hold it right there!" Fengyun Wuji raised his hand, his voice calm but commanding.

"You scoundrel, what do you have to say for yourself?" A thin, elderly man standing among the ranks of the Vast Sword Sect demanded. Behind him stood only a few dozen Ascended cultivators—clearly, he was the head of a minor sect.

"Is Mo Liye, the Supreme Elder of the Northern Sect, present?" Fengyun Wuji asked. Despite the sea of people before him and the imposing atmosphere, he regarded it as no different from facing a single foe. Numbers alone couldn't bridge the vast gap in strength.

"Heh," sneered an old man in a robe bearing the colors of the Twilight Purple Sect as he stepped forward. His voice dripped with mockery. "What, are you planning to pull the same trick you did at our sect—pretending to be the Supreme Elder of the Northern Ice Sword Sect?"

Fengyun Wuji paid the insult no mind. His thoughts were elsewhere. So, he really isn't here...

"Fiend!" another elder barked. "Do you still think you can flee in front of all these righteous sects? Tonight, every sect leader has gathered at Nightbright Manor to settle this blood debt. Prepare to die."

"Wait." Fengyun Wuji spoke again, his tone cutting through the rising tension like a blade.

But it was already too late. Everyone had clearly decided he was the culprit behind the massacre at Nightbright Manor. Without another word, waves of Ascended cultivators surged forth, encircling him layer upon layer—over a thousand rings of warriors, each one subtly forming part of an immense sword formation.

The formations rotated in opposing directions like massive gears, sword-light flashing coldly in all directions. A strange energy pulsed through the air—Fengyun Wuji immediately sensed that these sword arrays had already locked onto him.

"You call yourselves righteous sects, yet you condemn without proof? If you're accusing me of the Nightbright Manor massacre, then show me evidence." Fengyun Wuji wasn't particularly concerned about the sword formations—if anything, he was curious to see what tricks they might attempt.

"Fine. Since you're so eager to die in clarity, we'll oblige." The speaker, a sect master of moderate standing judging by the number of Ascended cultivators behind him, turned to glance at Baili Lang, the head of the Vast Sword Sect. Upon receiving a nod, he continued:

"That day, our sect leaders and senior elders were invited by the master of Nightbright Manor for an important council. We received our command tokens and set out accordingly. But when we arrived, the entire manor had already been turned into a slaughterhouse. Not a single survivor remained—not even a complete body of our sect master. And just as we arrived, we saw a black figure vanish into the sky. Fiend, even if it costs our lives, we will have vengeance this night."

Fengyun Wuji's brows furrowed. "A black shadow? That's all? How can you base such accusations on pure speculation?"

"Hah! We knew you'd deny it. Luoming, step forward!" the elder shouted.

A swordsman in a gray robe and green headband emerged from the crowd. Fengyun Wuji's pupils narrowed—he remembered this man from Qingsong City, one of five he had defeated and taken captive. He had planned to extract the location of the Twilight Purple Sect from him, but had gotten sidetracked by Helian Nanshan's Ascension and forgotten about him. He hadn't expected to see him now.

Luoming glared at Fengyun Wuji with feigned righteousness. "You villain! That day, my uncle went ahead while I was delayed at the base of the mountain. I saw someone descend from the sky—I thought it was a guest of the manor. I never expected it to be a fiend. Don't tell me you don't remember me!"

Fengyun Wuji was momentarily stunned. He hadn't intended to implicate anyone that day, and certainly hadn't expected it to be tied to Nightbright Manor. It was clear now that Luoming had been sent to frame him.

"What more do you have to say, demon?" the elder shouted, bloodshot eyes full of rage. "Tonight, you'll repay your blood debts!"

The outermost sword formations suddenly whirred to life—rotating forward and backward in sync. Within mere seconds, they had fused into a single cohesive entity. The sect masters and elders stepped back and disappeared into the formation.

From all directions, sword energy surged forth, stirring up clouds of dust. The disciples at the perimeter moved in perfect unison, performing synchronized hand seals. In the blink of an eye, human forms became indistinct, replaced by the spinning gleam of swords. Three feet beyond the array, a pale blue haze shimmered—the concentrated sword aura released by thousands of Ascended cultivators, solidified into a protective screen.

"Yuetian, there are too many people here. The terrain doesn't favor us. Go now. I'll stay and study the secrets of this formation."

"Grandmaster, I will never abandon you!" Gu Yuetian said firmly.

Fengyun Wuji couldn't help but smile. "With my strength, even if their numbers were doubled or tenfold, they'd still be useless against me. Go—if you still acknowledge me as your grandmaster, do as I say."

"Grandmaster…" Gu Yuetian gritted his teeth, then leapt into the sky.

A cold shout rang out from the formation: "Trying to escape? Not that easy."

The sword array generated a powerful suction force. Even with his cultivation, Gu Yuetian was dragged back down by the overwhelming pull of the formation created by tens of thousands of Ascended cultivators.

Fengyun Wuji snorted coldly. With a single palm strike, a surge of power entered Gu Yuetian's body, helping him break free of the array's pull. But above the Northern Ice Sect, several figures moved to intercept, their positions subtly forming another formation in midair.

"Down!" The eight airborne swordsmen spun into a glowing wheel of sword light and sliced toward Gu Yuetian.

Fengyun Wuji sneered. "You've really sealed every path, haven't you?" He flung out a sleeve—his Star-Absorbing Art activated. A terrifying suction tore the eight men from the sky like birds shot from the air. Gu Yuetian, seizing the chance, vanished into the distance. A moment later, his voice echoed back: "Master, I'll wait for you at the foot of the mountain!"

A gasp rippled through the crowd. Baili Sheng, leader of the Vast Sword Sect, growled, "Demon! Now we'll show no mercy!"

The eight fallen cultivators quickly blended back into the grand sword formation.

"Prepare to die!"

A collective shout rose as the sword formation took on a layered, crisscrossing pattern. From above, it looked like a great machine of glowing wheels—sword-light filled the air, but not a single person could be seen.

Over ten thousand cultivators, each with a century's worth of cultivation, had merged their power through this formation. United, they wielded strength akin to a cultivator with a million years of mastery. Even more terrifying, the formation had an amplification effect—enhancing their collective power several dozen times over. For the first time, they posed a genuine threat to Fengyun Wuji.

A massive wheel of sword light suddenly spun toward him. Instinctively, he struck with his own blade. Yet the moment his invisible sword energy met the dense aura of the formation, it fragmented into countless wisps. His perception told him that his attack had been absorbed by tens of thousands simultaneously—its power divided and further diminished by the defensive nature of the formation. The strike barely caused a ripple.

Even before the wheel of sword light reached him, Fengyun Wuji felt a sharp pressure closing in. He took a deep breath and activated his "Willow Drift Step." Still, he was a fraction too slow—a tearing sound reached his ears. A clean slash had appeared on his sleeve…