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Though it was summer, snow began to fall suddenly over the capital of Yu.
The snowflakes fluttered down, growing denser by the moment, almost obscuring the view of the onlookers witnessing the ceremony. Each snowflake that landed on people's skin caused a slight sting, imbued with the profound intent of a sword.
This snowfall was caused by the two sword masters hovering in mid-air. Though their duel had yet to begin, the cold aura they exuded had already pierced the heavens, creating a deadly tension that spread in every direction.
The Sword Emperor of the West Sea stood among them. He appeared as a sturdy, unassuming middle-aged man, with a broad, square face, dark, weathered skin, and a few wrinkles. His height was average and he looked like a plain and simple man.
His entire demeanor suited his humble name perfectly.
Even though he appeared plain and even slightly old-fashioned, the moment he ascended into the air under the gaze of countless onlookers, the awe-inspiring presence of a grandmaster radiated from.
"Esteemed senior, it has been fifty years since our last battle. I have not dared to slack for even a single day and have finally comprehended the true essence of your sword," the Sword Emperor of the West Sea said, his voice low enough for only the two of them to hear as he braved the fierce wind....
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