Li Mo is simply a swordsmanship genius

At this moment, Li Mo realized he had never truly understood the Celestial Divine Sword.

A faint, icy sensation lingered on the back of his hand, as if a veil between him and the sword had been torn away.

A thought flashed through his mind, and his consciousness suddenly sharpened.

Before him was no longer the overwhelming Seal of Eight Directions and Six Harmonies, nor Jiang Yu, who arrogantly dominated the world.

Instead, he found himself in a resplendent banquet, filled with heroes and elites, yet shrouded in an atmosphere of intrigue and tension.

"Have I... become the sword?"

Li Mo felt his thoughts grow sluggish and oppressive, yet a faint longing stirred within him.

He hung at the waist of a man drenched in blood, his coarse robes torn, his muscular body riddled with wounds from blades and arrows.

The man was exhausted.

With the border under siege, though he was no soldier, he had carved through armies, broken free from encirclement, and traveled a thousand miles to seek aid from his sworn brother—to relieve the besieged city.

That brother, once a fellow wanderer of the jianghu in their youth, had now become a mighty general.

Yet when they met, his brother offered fine wine and urged him to stay, to prioritize his own safety—refusing even to spare provisions for the desperate city.

Shocked and furious, Li Mo realized his brother was no longer the righteous, chivalrous rogue of their past.

He laughed bitterly, drew his sword, and before the guards could react, severed his own finger and stormed out, returning to the battlefield of carnage.

Wave after wave of enemies came, and the sword's edge grew more and more chipped.

Finally, "Li Mo" pierced the man's chest, helping his failing body stand firm atop a mountain of corpses.

Time passed indeterminably before the sword was picked up by a delicate hand and delivered to the Heavenly Mountain Sword Manor, where it was cast into the furnace.

Li Mo had been a sword many times.

He once believed the sword's essence was imprinted by the heroes who had wielded it—that the visions he saw were their lives.

Now he understood the truth: these were the sword's own memories.

Thanks to the "Ice Block" aiding his unity with the sword, he was now experiencing the Celestial Divine Sword's past incarnations.

He had followed many masters.

An assassin entrusted with a mission, concealed within a map and smuggled into the royal palace—only to fail at the last moment.

A proud scion of a noble clan, declaring, "My sword is no less sharp!" as he pointed his blade at the pinnacle of worldly power.

He had been the sword that broke with its wielder's death, and the blade abandoned in a deep valley when its master lost his way.

Yet each time, he was retrieved and returned to the furnace.

The first time he saw the Divine Blacksmith Du, the man was still an apprentice called Er Niu. Through countless hammer strikes, Du became Master Du... and finally, a wizened old man.

Li Mo watched as the hammer fell again and again, tempering his edge.

Even after enduring the refinement of divine treasures, he still felt the agony of reforging—and the transcendence that followed. This was no mere body tempering; the sword was not his true form.

He was merely using this process to resonate more deeply with its essence.

At last, all impurities were purged.

The divine sword was complete, gleaming with brilliance.

So too was Li Mo's consciousness.

In reality, his Battle Will of the Heaven-Defying Monkey ascended to new heights.

His mind cleared, and Li Mo lowered his gaze to the Celestial Divine Sword, its surface reflecting the moon behind him.

Indeed, whenever he faltered, the lunar essence—his "Cold Moon"—had dispelled distractions and guided his spirit back, preventing him from losing himself.

He released his grip, yet the sword did not fall. Instead, it hovered before him.

The sword pill in his dantian shot forth, merging with the Celestial Divine Sword.

Its hum was like the howling wind, yet it burned with a faint, eternal radiance.

"What's happening with Li Mo? That’s not Qi-controlled swordplay, is it?"

On the judges' platform, the purple-robed eunuch detected no trace of true essence fluctuations from Li Mo.

"The Celestial Divine Sword is now fully under his control."

Xie Yiding adjusted his square cap, glanced at Ying Bing, then at Li Mo, and said nothing.

After all, it wasn’t fair if only Jiang Yu received outside help.

Then he heard Du Wufeng muttering beside him:

"Could he truly be a prodigy of the sword path?"

The old man mumbled to himself before slapping his forehead in delight.

"Ah, I’m getting senile—but this is even better!"

Shi Sujun couldn’t forge weapons, and he couldn’t wield a sword. But Li Mo excelled at both—just like many legendary smiths who were also master swordsmen.

"Brother Li’s previous weakness was his lack of control over his weapon. Now, that’s no longer an issue."

"Some call Young Master Li the 'Little Tyrant of the Divine Hammer,' but in my heart, he’ll always be a sword immortal."

Not far away, in the section reserved for the Cloud-Severing Sword City and other swordsmen of Yunzhou...

While others cheered, the "Three Heroes of Cloud-Severing" found no joy in the celebration. To them, the uproar was just noise.

"So this is why you never call him 'Little Tyrant of the Divine Hammer'?"

Cao Mu looked at Bai Jinghong, suddenly seeing wisdom radiating from the man.

Had Bai seen this coming all along?

"Uh... yes, exactly."

Bai Jinghong didn’t admit it was out of fear. Let this be a beautiful misunderstanding.

"I heard this sword was never truly mastered by anyone. How come Junior Sister Ying and Junior Brother Li both succeeded?"

Xiao Qin asked his teacher but received no answer.

So he turned to Ying Bing:

"Junior Sister Ying, you know Brother Li well. Any ideas?"

"Because of devotion."

The instigator—the "Ice Block"—silently withdrew her Cold Moon essence and patted the head of a doll-like figure.

"Devotion?"

Zhong Zhenyue solemnly declared, "Then starting today, I shall devote myself to making money!"

"Huh? Why is the Celestial Divine Sword flying into the sky?"

Huang Donglai’s sharp eyes caught a streak of light soaring into the heavens.

Hadn’t Li Mo just gained full control? Why let it go?

"What’s he up to now?"

Amid the gasps, Jiang Yu frowned. His dual-pupiled eyes narrowed—then widened in shock as a sense of danger surged within him.

A wisp of the Great Yu Dynasty’s imperial fortune merged once more with the Seal of Eight Directions and Six Harmonies.

"So what if he commands the Celestial Divine Sword? It’s only second on the Divine Arms Ranking. As long as it’s a sword, it cannot escape the shackles of the Sword Bone!"

"Who said I’d use sword techniques?"

Li Mo laughed brightly, his smile radiant.

"Holy—my sword!"

"That’s the finest blade in our village!"

"I paid five taels for that sword!"

"Eh? Why are your swords flying away? Mine’s not moving..."

As the Celestial Divine Sword pierced the sky, countless blades in the arena trembled—some even broke free from their owners’ grips and soared upward.

Then it dawned on them: this was no mere phenomenon. It was Li Mo’s sword path reaching a transcendent realm, manifesting an unparalleled technique!

"Ten Thousand Swords Blanketing the Heavens?!"

"What godly sword art is this?"

"But Brother Li said he wasn’t using sword techniques..."

The swordsmen were electrified. Such a scene belonged only in legends.

What they didn’t know was... this was actually a hammer technique.

When human killing intent arises, heaven and earth are overturned.

Without a heavenly tribulation, a human-made calamity would suffice.

Li Mo was simply a sword prodigy!