Chapter 13: The Opening Gambit

The sword, besides being exceptionally heavy and sturdy, possessed no other remarkable abilities. Yet upon closer inspection, Qian Ye discovered that its craftsmanship was exquisitely fine, and it felt incredibly comfortable to wield.

How could such a meticulously designed and masterfully crafted weapon only possess the single characteristic of “mountain”? Even if “mountain” was an advanced form of “sturdy,” it still didn’t make sense. With the quality of the material, at least four or five more primordial force arrays could be added.

Could it truly be a half-finished product? This seemed to be the only explanation, but why would the Song Clan place an unfinished sword in their armory? Recalling Elder Lu’s words from that day, which seemed to carry a deeper meaning, Qian Ye found himself uncertain once again.

After familiarizing himself with the sword, Qian Ye tossed the scabbard aside and held the sword in one hand, taking a simple stride and thrusting forward. The Eastern Mountain Sword moved like the wind, brushing past a training dummy.

From then on, he alternated between holding the sword with both hands and one hand, practicing the most basic movements: stabbing, cutting, and slashing. As Qian Ye’s speed increased, the blade of the Eastern Mountain Sword began to emit a faint sound like thunder and wind, making it increasingly difficult to control.

Finally, when he attempted to switch from a slash to a thrust, Qian Ye lost control for a moment, causing the blade to graze a steel dummy. The lower half of the dummy remained immobile, but the upper half crumpled into a pile of scrap metal!

Qian Ye continued his practice. The Eastern Mountain Sword now pierced through the air as light as a breeze, with a faint shadow flickering along its edge. Any steel dummy that came into contact with the blade would collapse into a heap of twisted metal with a screech.

After a full hour, more than half of the dummies in the training ground were damaged. Qian Ye finally sheathed his sword and went to the side to rest. He took out the sword technique book he had copied from the Song Clan’s library and read it carefully, comparing it with his own practice experiences.

The basic-level sword technique book mostly contained techniques for using force while wielding the sword, which was exactly what Qian Ye needed. He rarely used heavy weapons during his time in the Netherworld and Red Scorpion, but as his body became stronger and his strength increased, ordinary weapons no longer felt right. Sometimes, he even had to take weapons from werewolves or spider-demons on the battlefield, relying solely on his instincts.

Though overwhelming force was a tactic, human strength had its limits. Now that Qian Ye’s combat power had increased, he needed to hone his skills.

Qian Ye closed his eyes in contemplation for a moment. After the laborers brought in a new batch of dummies, he picked up the sword and returned to the field, continuing his basic sword technique practice. Another hour passed, and this time, twenty-one out of fifty steel dummies were destroyed, three fewer than the previous round.

After a thirty-minute break, Qian Ye resumed his practice. In the third round, nineteen out of fifty dummies were destroyed, two fewer than before.

In the fourth round, sixteen dummies were destroyed, and in the fifth, eleven.

By midnight, the training ground was pitch dark, and the only sound was the faint rumble of wind and thunder. Qian Ye practiced in the darkness, having gone over an hour without damaging any of the dummies.

For the next few days, Qian Ye devoted himself to refining his sword techniques, occasionally visiting the Song Clan’s library to browse through books. He did not learn any specific sword styles, but instead, repeatedly practiced the most basic movements.

This was the training method of the Netherworld, emphasizing brutal simplicity.

As his practice deepened, the number of steel dummies in the field increased, until the gaps between them were barely wide enough for Qian Ye to squeeze through. Despite this, the number of damaged dummies continued to decrease, and by the last afternoon, not a single dummy was damaged. The faint sound of wind and thunder that accompanied Qian Ye’s sword strokes had also disappeared.

During these days, Song Zining hardly practiced. Instead, he ran around secretly, making numerous private deals.

Before they knew it, the day of Lady An Guo Gong’s birthday arrived.

On that day, the entire Yun Mountain was decorated anew, filled with joy and festivity. Only those of significant status could attend the birthday banquet. Not only guest warriors like Qian Ye, but even the illegitimate and collateral descendants of the Song Clan from Gao Ling had no right to enter the Wen Dao Manor, let alone sit at the banquet table.

Song Zining attended the banquet with his retinue of Song-clan servants, leaving Qian Ye and Gao Junyi to continue their training at the side manor.

There wasn’t much conversation between the two, and Gao Junyi seemed somewhat resentful that Song Zining had given the other guest warrior position to Qian Ye instead of his sworn brother.

Thus, in a half-joking, half-challenging manner, Gao Junyi initiated a virtual combat with Qian Ye.

When they emerged from the combat room, although Gao Junyi was still not entirely convinced, he had gained a new respect for Qian Ye. In the virtual combat environment where primordial force was suppressed, what was tested was raw instinct and combat experience. Gao Junyi immediately recognized that despite Qian Ye’s youth, he was a seasoned veteran, holding the art of killing in his hands.

However, Gao Junyi did not realize that Qian Ye had not taken the fight seriously.

After the birthday celebrations, the next day was the Song Clan’s decennial examination.

The first phase, the martial arts competition, lasted three days, held on the training ground outside Wen Dao Manor, large enough to accommodate a regiment of private soldiers. On the first and last days of the martial arts assessment, Lady An Guo Gong would personally attend to watch.

For all the participants, this was both an honor and an opportunity. If one could catch the eye of the old matriarch, it could mean a swift rise in status.

The grandstand had already been set up, and dozens of dignified elders, almost all the senior members of the Song Clan, were seated. At the center was an empty couch, clearly reserved for Lady An Guo Gong.

All the Song Clan members and guest warriors participating in the assessment stood in formation below the grandstand. At exactly nine o’clock, an elderly woman with silver hair, supported by several women, slowly made her way to the grandstand and sat down with a quiver.

This was Qian Ye’s first glimpse of the legendary Lady An Guo Gong. She appeared so old that time seemed to have frozen on her, her kind face resembling that of any ordinary grandmother.

Lady An Guo Gong scanned the crowd below, squinting slightly as if her vision was blurry, then smiled. “Good, good! These children are all good, just looking at them. Zining, come up, come up!”

Song Zining, seemingly accustomed to this, jumped onto the platform under the intense gazes of many, bowing respectfully.

Lady An Guo Gong took Song Zining’s hand and, smiling, said to the patriarch, Song Zhongnian, beside her, “Of all your grandchildren, I like Zining the most. He’s well-mannered, talented, and speaks sweetly!”

The elders smiled in response, while some in the crowd couldn’t help but show surprise. What kind of reason was it to say someone was well-mannered and spoke sweetly? And the talent she praised was not in martial arts but in the arts of calligraphy and painting.

Lady An Guo Gong, however, paid no heed to others’ thoughts and removed a jade ring from her thumb, placing it in Song Zining’s hand.

Song Zining calmly slipped the ring onto his finger, a sixth-level defensive artifact that could withstand a direct attack from a war general. Lady An Guo Gong’s favoritism toward Song Zining was never hidden, and it left many speechless.

Qian Ye, however, frowned. He had always heard about Lady An Guo Gong’s fondness for Song Zining, but seeing it today, something felt off. Wasn’t this simply making Song Zining more enemies? Before he could ponder further, an elder on the platform stepped forward to announce the first round of matchups.

Twenty-four Song Clan members and forty-eight guest warriors were participating in the examination. The guest warriors would compete in several rounds to determine the top sixteen, who would then face off against the bottom sixteen of the Song Clan in an elimination match until eight were left. These eight would then join the top eight of the Song Clan, forming the final sixteen. They would then battle until the individual champion was decided.

Each participant would earn points based on their ranking, and the combined total of a Song Clan member and their guest warrior would determine the overall champion.

Four arenas were set up, allowing four matches to occur simultaneously. Apart from high-powered weapons like primordial force grenades and handheld cannons, there were no restrictions on the weapons used, and the fights were to the death.

According to the rules, sixteen warriors would receive byes in the first round. Neither Qian Ye nor Gao Junyi received a bye. Given the efforts of the heirs to influence the matchups, such a fortunate draw would not fall to anyone aligned with Song Zining.

It was clear that each heir had gone to great lengths to gather their fighters. The first eight guest warriors to battle were all experienced and ruthless, their combat power exceeding that of a standard ninth-level soldier. Outside, they would easily crush opponents of their level.

The fights were particularly brutal, with the guest warriors showing no mercy to each other. Almost every match ended with bloodshed.

In the second round, Gao Junyi’s name was called.

Among the four matches in this round, the longest one lasted nearly an hour. Gao Junyi, demonstrating his true skill, defeated his opponent in less than half an hour. However, he paid a price: a deep cut on his left arm, nearly reaching the bone.

Gao Junyi walked off the arena with his head held high, chuckling loudly as he passed Qian Ye. “Little guy, don’t embarrass Young Master Seven later.” Winning in the first round was a point of pride, especially since none of the participating guest warriors were weak.

Qian Ye simply smiled, while Song Zining was beaming with pride, lavishing praise on Gao Junyi.

Just then, the elder in charge of the examination called out the name An Renyi. Qian Ye stood up, picking up the Eastern Mountain Sword leaning against his seat, and walked towards the arena.

As Qian Ye reached the center of the field, Lady An Guo Gong on the grandstand suddenly opened her eyes, glancing at him with a casual yet intentional look.

Qian Ye, standing quietly, waiting for the match to begin, suddenly felt a strange sensation, as if unseen eyes were watching him. He instinctively looked towards the grandstand, but Lady An Guo Gong had already closed her eyes, returning to a state of dozing.

No one on the grandstand noticed Lady An Guo Gong’s momentary glance, nor did they find her dozing surprising. For the old matriarch, who had ascended to the rank of Divine General over forty years ago, the skirmishes of these young people were as insignificant as children waving swords in front of adults. Perhaps only the matches involving the Song Clan members would pique her interest.

Yet, even with Lady An Guo Gong’s eyes closed, no one dared to be careless. With her current cultivation, even if only a fraction of her consciousness was awake, nothing could escape her notice.

“The ninth match, Du Dahai vs. An Renyi, begins now! The tenth match, Cao Junping vs. Gu Xiaohui…” As the elder’s words fell, the bell signaling the start of the match was struck.

At this moment, Qian Ye’s attention finally turned to his opponent. Standing on the other end of the field was a red-faced, burly man with a fearsome scar on his left cheek.

Qian Ye looked at him and smiled slightly. “You’re with Song Ziqi, right?”