Ren Woxing, once the leader of the Sun Moon Sect, knew its inner workings like the back of his hand.
With Shaolin Temple's backing, he ruthlessly subdued several Sun Moon Sect elders, forcing them to serve as insiders. With Ren Woxing and Linghu Chong, two peerless masters, leading the charge, their group swiftly seized control of the sect.
Mere control wasn't enough. Ren Woxing soon learned Dongfang Bubai had secluded himself in the back mountain for years, indifferent to worldly affairs.
Fueled by over a decade of burning hatred, Ren Woxing and his followers stormed toward the back mountain.
In Ren Woxing's mind, Dongfang Bubai's martial prowess, though hailed as unmatched by some in the martial world, was no match for his perfected Star Absorbing Skill. With its flaws eliminated, it could rival Dongfang Bubai—and with Linghu Chong at his side, victory seemed certain.
In a quiet house, the door's gauze curtain lay removed. Dongfang Bubai, clad in vibrant red robes, sat calmly on a cloud bed, an embroidery needle in hand, meticulously crafting a pattern.
Ren Woxing and his group, weapons drawn and radiating killing intent, shattered the tranquil silence…
"Who are you? Where's Dongfang Bubai?" Ren Woxing barked, his face etched with menace, eyes fierce. He didn't recognize the figure before him.
"Heh…" Dongfang Bubai let out a soft chuckle, his voice clear as pearls cascading on jade. "Ren Woxing, you've nursed hatred for me over a decade, yet you don't know me now? Isn't your grudge a farce?"
"You're Dongfang Bubai? Ha! So the Sunflower Manual turned you into this half-man, half-woman?" Ren Woxing, catching faint traces of familiar features, burst into mocking laughter.
"He's Dongfang Bubai!?" Linghu Chong and the others gaped, stunned by the figure's appearance.
"Hahaha, Dongfang Bubai, did you ever imagine this day?" Ren Woxing sneered, done with words. He lunged, palm raised to strike.
Whoosh!
Dongfang Bubai's finger flicked, and an embroidery needle shot toward Ren Woxing like a bolt of lightning.
The battle erupted. Linghu Chong, Xiang Wentian, and the others leaped into the fray.
Meanwhile, at the foot of Blackwood Cliff, Alex, clad in a sleek outfit and spurring a swift horse, raced toward the cliff, his face set with determination.
His mission was clear: aid Dongfang Bubai.
First, Alex harbored a deep grudge against Ren Woxing.
Had Ren Woxing not betrayed them at Shaolin, the Sun Moon Sect's full might could have overwhelmed the temple. Though Master Fang Zheng refused to yield the Yi Jin Jing, a real battle would've crippled Shaolin. Fang Zheng, weighing the Yi Jin Jing against Shaolin's legacy, might have relented.
Thus, Alex's chance at the Yi Jin Jing was lost to Ren Woxing's treachery.
Second, in the original tale, Dongfang Bubai fell to Ren Woxing and Linghu Chong's combined assault. Dongfang Bubai had shown Alex kindness—how could he stand idly by?
Moreover, Ren Woxing's escape from Meizhuang was partly Alex's doing.
That day, drained of inner energy by Ren Woxing and gravely wounded, Alex leaped off the cliff to survive. In recovery, he turned misfortune into fortune, vastly enhancing Magneto's ability.
But as Alex neared Blackwood Cliff, a pavilion by the path made him frown.
Inside, a monk and a Taoist sipped tea across from each other—Master Fang Zheng of Shaolin and Taoist Chongxu of Wudang.
"Amitabha, Deputy Leader Alex, you're unharmed," Master Fang Zheng said, rising as he spotted Alex's approaching figure.
"Will you meddle in the Sun Moon Sect's affairs?" Alex's gaze locked on Fang Zheng and Chongxu, his brows knitting tightly.
He had no time to waste with them.
"Amitabha, Deputy Leader Alex, Taoist Chongxu and I only wish to share a cup of tea and detain you here for half an hour," Master Fang Zheng said, his voice serene, hands clasped in prayer. "After that, you may go wherever you please, and we will not hinder you."
"And if I refuse?" Alex's face darkened, his tone sharp and resolute.
"If you refuse, I may have to cross blades with you again," Master Fang Zheng replied, unruffled by Alex's defiance. "Our duel at Shaolin was cut short by Linghu Chong. Shall we finish it today?"
"Though Leader Ren Woxing drained your inner energy, your sword-controlling qi remains," Taoist Chongxu added, stepping forward. "I, Chongxu, wish to test my Wudang Taiji Sword against the Ghost Hand Sword Saint's blade."
Master Fang Zheng was a master of the martial world, but Alex's feat of battling Ren Woxing and Zuo Lengchan alone lingered in Taoist Chongxu's mind. He doubted Fang Zheng could stop Alex single-handedly.
"Things have changed!" Alex snapped. "I've no time to waste with you today. If you fall by my hand, don't curse my ruthlessness."
Words exhausted, Alex raised two fingers and flicked them lightly. The White Dragon sword leaped from its scabbard, streaking toward Master Fang Zheng with an almost living grace.
Faced with the legendary sword-controlling qi, Master Fang Zheng's expression tightened. He braced himself, not daring to underestimate the attack.
At the same moment, Taoist Chongxu drew his blade, its Wudang Taiji Sword weaving a intricate dance to envelop Alex.
But Alex was undaunted. With one hand, he guided the White Dragon sword, wielding Dugu Nine Swords to press Master Fang Zheng. His other hand stretched toward Taoist Chongxu.
Instantly, Chongxu's sword slowed, crawling like an ancient tortoise.
The Taiji Sword thrived on slow precision to counter speed, but a blade moving this sluggishly was useless. Even if Alex stood still, it would take a dozen breaths for Chongxu's sword to reach him. What power could such a strike hold?
"How is this possible!?" Taoist Chongxu gasped, his sword heavy as a mountain. Unable to swing it, his Taiji Sword techniques were stifled.
With one hand, Alex drove the White Dragon sword, its Dugu Nine Swords forcing Master Fang Zheng into a desperate retreat.
With the other, he bound Taoist Chongxu's blade, rendering it near immovable, crippling Chongxu's swordplay.
In a single move, Alex commanded two swords, overwhelming Master Fang Zheng and Taoist Chongxu—two titans of the martial world!
With the White Dragon sword, Alex wielded Magneto's power to burden Taoist Chongxu's blade, making it weigh at least 200 kilograms.
Though Chongxu's inner energy was pure, how could an aging master heft such a monstrous weight in battle?
The black iron heavy sword from The Return of the Condor Heroes, famed for its heft, was only about 30 kg .
"Huff… huff…" Taoist Chongxu gasped, his breath ragged. Just a few attempted swings drained his inner energy and stamina.
"No, I'm useless like this," Chongxu thought. "I must abandon the sword and fight with Taiji fists." Decisively, he released his blade and charged, fists raised.
But as Chongxu let go, Alex seized the opportunity. With Magneto's power, he claimed Chongxu's sword, now commanding both it and the White Dragon sword to strike Master Fang Zheng and Taoist Chongxu.
With masterful swordplay, the blades' deadly edges tore against flesh, backed by overwhelming force. In mere moments, Fang Zheng and Chongxu bore several gashes.
Under Alex's control, the swords targeted their lower bodies, slashing at their legs. Unbound by human hands, the blades danced with uncanny precision, leaving four or five wounds on each master's legs.
Alex hadn't forgotten his true aim: not to defeat Fang Zheng and Chongxu, but to break free of their interference.
After the swords carved into their legs, Alex wasted no time. The White Dragon sword snapped back to him. He leaped, planting his feet on the blade.
The sword bore his weight, soaring swiftly into the air, bypassing Fang Zheng and Chongxu, and streaking toward Blackwood Cliff.
With his enhanced Magneto's ability, Alex could now ride the sword in flight, its speed formidable. Fang Zheng and Chongxu, weaponless and hobbled by wounded legs, could only watch him vanish. Pursuit was impossible.
"Sword flight? Is this truly a mortal's power?" Master Fang Zheng and Taoist Chongxu stared, awestruck, as Alex's figure dwindled into the distance. "Has Alex become a sword immortal?"