Chapter 5935

Soon, the group was led to Heavenly Sword Pavilion’s Sword Duel Platform.

The arena floated above a rolling ocean of cloud, a flawless circle of black Test-Blade Stone. Its surface was carved by countless grooves-each a scar left by some bygone duel-and every scar still breathed a razor-sharp intent.

At the platform’s heart stood an elderly man in coarse gray robes. His hair, streaked white, tangled in the wind while he stared up at the sky as though listening to secrets only he could hear.

A plain iron sword hung at his waist. The sheath was mottled with rust, yet Jared sensed a killing edge within it fierce enough to split mountains.

Winslow bowed. “Mr. Dugan.”

Oswald Dugan turned with deliberate languor. His face was unremarkable, almost shabby, but his eyes flashed like twin naked blades-keen enough, it seemed, to pierce straight through a man’s heart. They ignored everyone else and fixed on Jared.

“Your sword intent intrigues me,” he rasped. “It is not the austere way of pure swordsmanship, but at the same time, it feels broader than that.”