Wudang's Lost Sword Returns

(Events Happened In between of Chapter 12)

The Mount Hua disciples struck first, their wooden blades whistling through the air as they descended like hawks. But Qin Tianzhao's team had been trained for this—they were not prey.

"Defensive formation!" Qin Tianzhao barked. Instantly, his disciples shifted, their movements precise and disciplined. They raised their weapons in unison, deflecting the initial strikes and dispersing the momentum of the ambushers.

The Mount Hua disciple who had spoken earlier remained still, watching with sharp eyes. "Good response," he mused. "But you're still surrounded."

Qin Tianzhao's smirk never wavered. "Am I?"

As if on cue, a sharp whistle sliced through the forest air. Then—shouts.

From the eastern flank, the two runners Qin Tianzhao had sent out earlier struck like lightning, launching a sudden assault on the ambushers' blind spots. The Mount Hua disciples, momentarily caught off guard, faltered just enough for Team Leaf to seize the advantage.

Qin Tianzhao surged forward. His wooden sword met his opponent's in a controlled yet forceful clash, a test of skill rather than brute strength. "You underestimated us," he remarked, eyes locked onto his opponent's. "Big mistake."

The Mount Hua disciple grinned despite the situation, twisting his blade in an expert maneuver. "Underestimated? No. I was merely testing how much fun this fight will be."

The battle erupted in full, wooden blades clashing, figures weaving through the undergrowth. It was no longer just a trap—it was a contest of wit, speed, and sheer mastery. And neither side was willing to lose.

The forest became a battlefield of shifting shadows and clashing wood. Qin Tianzhao's disciples fought with sharp precision, countering each attack with well-practiced efficiency. But the Mount Hua disciples were relentless, their movements fluid and unyielding, like waves crashing upon the shore.

Qin Tianzhao met his opponent's strikes with measured control, never overextending, never committing more than necessary. The Mount Hua disciple, however, was just as skilled. His blade moved like a ribbon in the wind, light yet unshakable.

"You have talent," Qin Tianzhao admitted, parrying a downward slash before pivoting to the side. "But you rely too much on flair."

The Mount Hua disciple smirked. "And you rely too much on caution."

In a blur of motion, he shifted his stance. Instead of pressing the attack, he stepped back—right as the treetops rustled with movement.

Qin Tianzhao's instincts flared. Another trap.

A second wave of Mount Hua disciples burst from the canopy, landing with perfect synchronicity. The sudden reinforcements tilted the battlefield, turning a calculated skirmish into a full-scale engagement.

"Reinforcements?" One of Qin Tianzhao's team members gritted his teeth. "They had more waiting?"

Qin Tianzhao's smirk didn't waver. "I expected as much," he said, rolling his shoulders, his grip tightening around his sword. "But don't think for a second this will be easy!"

The battle raged on, but Wudang was beginning to falter. With every passing second, Mount Hua pushed forward, their relentless offense chipping away at Wudang's defenses.

"Keep fighting!" Qin Tianzhao barked, his voice sharp with authority. His tone carried unwavering confidence, but beneath it, his mind churned. Damn it… I underestimated them.

From the undergrowth, hidden figures stirred. The two runners he had sent earlier had not only flanked the enemy—they had also signaled backup of their own.

A sudden rustling of leaves heralded their arrival—the reinforcements had come. From the shadows, more figures emerged: Team Rock's detached unit, sent to aid Qin Tianzhao. Without hesitation, they surged forward, their movements precise and unwavering, poised to shift the tide of battle.

Qin Tianzhao's eyes flicked toward the backup, a brief flicker of surprise crossing his face. "That brat actually sent reinforcements? Hah! Smarter than I gave him credit for," he muttered, a hint of respect creeping into his voice.

The Mount Hua disciples' confident smirks faltered as the tides of battle shifted once again.

The leader of the Mount Hua group narrowed his eyes. "So you planned for this too?"

Qin Tianzhao finally grinned—the first true sign of excitement since the fight had begun. "Of course not. Seems like my junior brother had more initiative than I thought!"

With that, he lunged forward, and the battle erupted once more. But now, the balance had shifted—this was anyone's game.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle rang out from Yujin's direction. Team Air had made contact with another enemy force.

"It's time to end this, then." Qin Tianzhao smirked, adjusting his stance. His gaze flickered toward his Mount Hua opponent. "You were an interesting match."

And then—he vanished.

"Cut the crap! This isn't ending that easily!" The Mount Hua disciple disappeared as well, their wooden swords clashing in rapid succession. Sparks flew from their strikes, their movements too fast for the untrained eye to follow.

Across the battlefield, Mount Hua's forces were beginning to falter. Though they held superior strength, the overwhelming numbers of Wudang and their terrain advantage were slowly turning the tide.

"It seems our masters were wrong about you," the Mount Hua disciple admitted between strikes, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Your sect still deserves some respect, after all."

As if the battle had already been decided, another wave of Wudang disciples surged into the fray. Team Rock had arrived in full force.

"Hope we didn't miss all the fun," Haoyu called out arrogantly, cracking his knuckles as he stepped forward.

"Shit! How many teams did you Wudang brats prepare for?!" the Mount Hua disciple shouted, his voice laced with frustration.

"More than needed, apparently," Qin Tianzhao said, a wide grin spreading across his face, his confidence now unshaken.

"You two seem busy—I'll take care of the rest." Haoyu scoffed before launching himself forward, leading the charge with the other Wudang disciples.

"Cloud Piercing Sword!"

A sharp gust of Qi flared around him as his blade thrust forward like a lightning strike. The force of his attack sent Mount Hua disciples reeling, bodies crashing into the ground and slamming against tree trunks. The battlefield shifted—Wudang's advantage was undeniable.

"Everyone, gather!" the Mount Hua disciple bellowed.

At his command, the remaining Mount Hua warriors disengaged, retreating from the chaotic melee to form up. Their breaths were ragged, their bodies weary, but their spirits remained unbroken.

"It seems we underestimated you," the disciple admitted, a wry smile playing at his lips. "We thought only one of Wudang's outer disciples would be a challenge."

He planted his feet, his voice rising with renewed resolve. "But we're not going down without a fight! We have a prodigy of our own!"

A tired yet defiant cheer erupted from the Mount Hua disciples.

Qin Tianzhao merely chuckled, twirling his blade with ease. "And what's a prodigy against overwhelming numbers?" His smirk widened.

"Once our entire force regroups, you're as good as finished!" Haoyu boasted, confidence radiating from him.

Qin Tianzhao exhaled, lowering his sword with the calm authority of a general ordering his troops to crush a routed enemy.

"Then let's end this."

As Team Rock and Team Leaf surged forward in a full-frontal assault, Qin Tianzhao and Haoyu led the charge, their bodies radiating qi. Mount Hua's disciples braced themselves, determination flashing in their eyes.

Then—the air shifted.

A sudden, unnatural stillness seized the battlefield, freezing both Wudang and Mount Hua in place. A suffocating aura of demonic energy surged forth, sending a chill through even the most hardened warriors.

"What the—?" The Mount Hua disciple's voice wavered, his grip tightening on his weapon.

In the distance, a brilliant eruption of qi illuminated the treetops. Waves of energy pulsed outward—one moment, as delicate as plum blossoms in the wind, the next, flowing with the serene grace of a river. But woven into the harmony was something else—something twisted, dark, and malevolent. The unmistakable presence of demonic qi.

Qin Tianzhao's smirk faded, replaced by a rare look of solemnity. "Let's cut this short. It seems we have another guest." His voice was even, but the shift in his demeanor was undeniable.

Shit. The real test had begun. Qin Tianzhao kept his expression neutral, but his mind raced.

Haoyu cursed under his breath. "Why the hell would demonic cultists be here? Isn't this whole area supposed to be locked down by those shadow guys?"

"It's none of our business," Qin Tianzhao replied, his tone clipped. He made sure to mask his expression, suppressing what he already knew. "We need to move. Now."

The Mount Hua disciple exhaled sharply, eyes flickering between his brothers-in-arms and the distant chaos. Finally, he relaxed his stance. "Then let's call a temporary truce."

With unspoken agreement, Wudang and Mount Hua warriors alike turned as one, rushing toward the source of the disturbance.

But Qin Tianzhao hesitated. His gaze drifted toward the treeline, where shadows shifted unnaturally. His eyes caught a familiar figure—Elder Jung-hi, concealed in the underbrush, flanked by the enigmatic Veiled Sentinels.

Qin Tianzhao's expression remained unreadable, but he gave a subtle nod.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Elder," he murmured before turning to follow the others.