In the vast arena, Zhang Wen, clad in a black form-fitting combat suit and wearing a mask of a hermit, slowly stepped onto the stage gripping a long sword.
His previous nengsteel had been destroyed during the assassination attempt by Gaolong. However, the arena had plenty of spare nengsteel, so grabbing one at random allowed him to conjure a suitable sword once again.
The sword, forged from niangang, was a perfect projection of the image in his mind, with not the slightest deviation.
As Zhang Wen stepped onto the stage, an invisible aura enveloped him. It was the same kind of energy as the female swordsman’s—an imposing presence of a true master, calm and steady like a deep pool and towering mountains.
From the audience’s perspective above, the two figures on the stage were surprisingly similar—not only in temperament, but even in appearance. Both wore masks, and both wore tight-fitting combat suits, differing only in color—one silver, one black.
A man and a woman, each wielding a long sword.
Of course, there were subtle differences between their swords. The female swordsman’s weapon had an ornate, openwork handguard, and its slender, needle-like blade resembled a Western foil.
The hermit’s sword, by contrast, was only two fingers wide, its edge as thin as a cicada’s wing. The elegant curve of the blade and its straight, unadorned form, combined with the classical, understated patterns on the hilt, exuded a regal aura.
“Let’s begin!”
Zhang Wen locked eyes with the female swordsman. He felt a vague sense of familiarity, but he didn’t dwell on it. He angled his sword toward the ground and focused intently on her shoulders.
From his vantage point, he could clearly see the alluring curves of her chest, but Zhang Wen’s attention was not on her beauty.
From his own accumulated experience in swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat, Zhang Wen had concluded that in any form of martial arts, closing the distance was the first step toward launching an attack. Therefore, observing the opponent’s feet revealed the timing of their advance. Similarly, the movement of the sword began with the shoulder joint, so by watching the shoulders, he could anticipate her next move.
Across from him, the female swordsman was equally cautious, perhaps sensing something different about Zhang Wen. She first raised her sword and touched it to her forehead in a gesture resembling noble etiquette. Then, with one hand resting at her waist and the other pointing the blade straight at Zhang Wen’s heart, she stood poised. The sword tip flickered unpredictably, like a venomous snake ready to strike.
A faint killing intent filled the air. The sharp glint of the blade and the piercing gaze of the two warriors clashed silently, creating invisible sparks in midair!
“Do you think Teacher Zhang will be okay?” Zack asked with concern. By now, they all knew that Teacher Zhang was the mysterious hermit of the arena, and their hearts were tied to the match. After all, the female swordsman’s display of power earlier had been truly astonishing.
“I think he’ll be fine…” Cloud replied uncertainly, turning to ask Xie Luo, the “authority,” for his opinion. But the look on Xie Luo’s face was even more intense and anxious than his own—his eyes were narrowed, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the two motionless figures in the arena.
“Shhh! Don’t talk!” Amelie scolded, her eyes wide, raising a finger to her lips. “Teacher Zhang will definitely win. Definitely!” she murmured, her eyes flashing with unwavering trust.
Just as Amelie finished speaking, the stillness shattered. The female swordsman suddenly moved, her right foot lunging forward, her body moving like lightning. Her foil trembled like a venomous snake, and the tip of her blade burst into a dazzling flash, like blooming petals!
So fast!!!
Everyone watching involuntarily gasped!
Her strike resembled an imperial martial arts thrust, yet it was even fiercer and faster. Her foil danced unpredictably, making it impossible to discern the final point of impact.
Fast! Deceptive! Ruthless!
After so many days in the arena, this was the first time she had encountered an opponent worthy of her full strength!
…
Lord Black sat comfortably in his golden throne, a luxurious seat that gave him the feeling of noble privilege—the intoxicating taste of power. It would have been perfect if he had a glass of fine wine in his hand.
However, a message from the communicator interrupted his pleasant mood.
“Failed?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise, looking at the grim-faced Gaolong through the telepathic transmission. This outcome had been unexpected. With Gaolong’s strength, he should have been able to dominate the empire. Unless he had encountered the King, the Imperial Fangs, or a deadly trap, how could he possibly fail to kill a mere teacher at the Saint level?
He shook his head in confusion, listening as Gaolong briefly recounted the events.
“I felt there were at least three super-tier masters in the academy. One of them emitted an exceptionally powerful telekinetic force that almost paralyzed me, causing me to sense immense danger. I had no choice but to retreat…” Gaolong clenched his jaw. He was furious—how could a so-called mass murderer, a killing machine, fail to eliminate a mere Saint-level teacher? It was outrageous.
“I’ll try again…”
“No need,” Lord Black interrupted with a shake of his head. “We’ve already alerted him. Another attempt will have even less chance of success. It seems his luck hasn’t run out yet… Return first. You’ll have a major role to play in the upcoming Southland Ruler’s Tournament in a few days.”
“Hmph, that guy was just too lucky…”
“Don’t worry. I’ve already set the board for a grand game. You’ll have your fun soon enough.”
A sinister smile spread across Lord Black’s handsome face, as if he were already witnessing a bloody banquet in hell.
Pain, despair, and cries of agony… those were the scenes he longed to see most.
…
The female swordsman’s blade accelerated suddenly, aiming straight for Zhang Wen’s right eye. A collective gasp rose from the audience.
Zhang Wen remained unfazed. His sword moved after hers but arrived first, sweeping in an arc to deflect her strike. At the same time, his footwork spun, and his body twisted to the left, slipping into her blind spot. His sword circled like rippling water, its sharp edge flashing toward her neck artery.
Another wave of astonished cries erupted. The arena had seen countless bloody and brutal fights, but nothing as eerie and dangerous as this—such a life-or-death confrontation at the very start of the match! It was pushing the audience’s psychological limits to the edge.
“Impressive!” A flicker of surprise flashed in the female swordsman’s eyes. Her body twisted and rolled along the ground, narrowly evading Zhang Wen’s strike.
Taking advantage of the opening, Zhang Wen’s swordplay surged. His blade transformed into an endless cascade of water, wave after wave of dazzling sword flashes—arcs, diagonals, and serpentine slashes, each more brilliant than the last.
For a moment, all the spectators seemed to catch a glimpse of rippling waves, rising and falling. This was the result of Zhang Wen’s Spring Water Technique reaching a higher level, unconsciously creating an illusory scene with his sword.
Such swordsmanship was not only unprecedented—it was unheard of. Stranger still, both fighters seemed to have silently agreed to rely solely on sword techniques, without channeling any of their battle energy into their blades.
Were they trying to decide the match purely through swordsmanship?
The once-noisy audience fell into stunned silence. Meanwhile, more and more spectators rushed in from other levels of the arena, filling the stands to the brim.
“Hey, Cloud, did you see that! Teacher Zhang’s sword! Who knew swords could be used like that!” Zack’s face lit up with awe. He had struck gold by finding such a great teacher. Learning even a fraction of Zhang Wen’s skill would be enough to last him a lifetime. Compared to this, all the sword techniques of the empire were trash!
Cloud’s mouth hung open, too stunned to respond. Previously, Teacher Zhang had been strong, but his swordsmanship had never reached such heights. Now, his swordplay had reached the realm of the divine, capable of creating illusions!
If Cloud and Zack were this amazed, imagine how Amelie felt, her heart completely devoted to Zhang Wen. Her eyes sparkled with admiration, her cheeks flushed, as if she were lost in a happy daydream.
Even the arena’s own experts—Xie Luo, Tie Mian, and the recently revived Berserker Zhe Luo—were captivated. Standing in the VIP viewing room, they silently analyzed and memorized every move, imagining how they would react if they were in the fight themselves.
Just when everyone thought Zhang Wen had seized the initiative and was completely suppressing the female swordsman, she struck back!
Without even looking, she sidestepped and slashed backward. The strike came suddenly and fiercely, like a scorpion’s tail or a wasp’s sting.
Unpredictable and unstoppable!
It landed precisely at the moment Zhang Wen was about to change his next strike, breaking the rhythm of his relentless swordplay.
The previously quiet audience erupted into screams once again! It was thrilling—no one had expected the female swordsman, so thoroughly dominated, to counterattack so bizarrely!
The next moment brought an even more bizarre development. As Zhang Wen slightly adjusted his stance, retracting his sword for a new assault, the female swordsman remained sideways to him. Her long left leg lashed out from behind like a whip, striking her own blade. The downward-pointing foil let out a piercing whistle as it snapped upward like a cobra raising its hood, fangs bared.
“Huh!” Tie Mian’s eyes widened in the VIP room, his body instinctively leaning forward. “This is…”
The rising blade aimed straight for Zhang Wen’s wrist. If he continued his attack, his arm would be pierced in the next second!
Zhang Wen’s mind raced. Such sword techniques, so strange and unexpected—this was the first time he had seen anything like it since arriving in this world. Was this truly part of the empire’s martial arts?
Even as the thought flashed through his mind, he had to defend. His feet moved, his body sliding like a fish, shifting several feet sideways. Seizing the opportunity, the female swordsman unleashed her bizarre swordplay!
If Zhang Wen’s sword was like flowing water, ever-changing like a river, then the female swordsman’s blade was like a venomous bee, a deadly snake, a flower of death—the Datura!
Her arms, waist, and joints were incredibly flexible, boneless and unpredictable, shifting in ways that defied normal anatomy.
Her sword aimed at his eyes, then suddenly changed to strike his lower body. She turned sideways, and the foil burst from under her arm. Just as everyone thought that was the limit of her variation, her body twisted again, the blade tracing a strange arc, bursting into a dazzling array of sword flashes, and suddenly aiming downward at Zhang Wen’s feet.
Such deadly sword techniques were definitely not from the empire’s martial arts, at least not from any academy. Zhang Wen even felt that it wasn’t the woman controlling the sword, but rather the sword guiding her into strange, fluid movements—as if she had become the sword’s puppet.
“Hereditary Sword Art!” Tie Mian exclaimed in disbelief from the VIP room.
Inside the arena, Zhang Wen was forced back step by step by the female swordsman’s bizarre swordplay. Finally, his back hit the iron mesh fence.
No more room to retreat!
The female swordsman seized the opportunity instantly. As Zhang Wen’s retreat was halted by the fence, she let out a soft laugh. Her right arm snapped like a whip, her waist, hips, and legs twisting together. Her blade’s glow suddenly contracted, then exploded outward like a swarm of wasps, buzzing with countless blinding sword beams aimed at Zhang Wen’s eyes, neck, chest, and abdomen—all vital points.
“Hereditary Sword Art—Hell’s Rush!”
The ultimate sword of speed!!!
The spectators, already on the edge of their seats, erupted into a chorus of screams!
In the VIP room, Tie Mian, Xie Luo, and others’ pupils contracted sharply. What a ruthless sword technique! It left no room for survival—this was a killing blow!
“Teacher Zhang!” From the stands, Amelie, Zack, and Cloud shouted in unison.
In the arena, Zhang Wen, the ultimate hermit pushed to his limit, what did he see in that moment?
His pupils were filled with the blinding sword beams. It was almost impossible to believe that such a terrifying sword technique existed in this world—such a deadly art! This final strike seemed flawless!
The only chance was—
Zhang Wen let out a loud cry. The power of the Spring Water Technique surged from his wrist to his fingers, and his traditional Chinese sword erupted with the strongest sword beam since the match began. His Spring Water sword technique was fully unleashed!
A torrent of sword rain poured down like mercury!
An all-out offensive!
Like ten thousand pear blossoms blooming at once, both warriors unleashed their swords at superhuman speed. Their blades clashed in midair, emitting piercing metallic screeches, orange-red sparks flying in all directions!
The audience held their breath, waiting for the final outcome. At this point, no one could predict who would emerge victorious—the mysterious female swordsman or the hermit?
Their swords blurred into indistinguishable flashes of light, entwining together. Suddenly, the female swordsman cried out, and her foil erupted with a burst of purple starlight, sending Zhang Wen’s sword flying into the air.
She had finally released her battle energy!
The next moment, her foil multiplied—hundreds became ten, ten became one—and finally condensed into a single blade aimed directly at Zhang Wen’s right chest!
Fast and merciless! The air itself screamed as it was torn apart.
Almost all the spectators let out a sigh. Though they had expected the result, they still felt a pang of regret. If the female swordsman hadn’t suddenly unleashed her battle energy, the outcome might have been different. But now… without a sword, the hermit would be lucky to survive against that fierce woman.
Amelie cried out in anguish, wishing she could transform into a sword and fly into Zhang Wen’s hand.
Just as the opponent’s sharp foil was about to pierce Zhang Wen’s body, his body suddenly shot straight up along the iron mesh behind him.
Though it seemed slow, it happened in an instant.
Reaching the top of the mesh, he raised his right hand and caught his falling sword. Then, flipping his body upside down, he dove downward like a bolt of lightning, his sword aimed at the female swordsman below!
Instinctively, the female swordsman raised her sword to block. With a sharp clang, a sticky force emanated from Zhang Wen’s blade, twisting and entangling her foil, sending it flying.
Zhang Wen continued his descent, landing with a graceful flip. His sword darted forward, its tip pressing against the female swordsman’s chin.
In the blink of an eye, the tide of battle had turned before she could react.
The entire arena, both inside and out, thought the hermit had lost. They remained stunned for several seconds before erupting into thunderous cheers.
“Hermit! Hermit! Hermit!!!”
Louder and louder, the cheers echoed through the stands, their passion threatening to tear the roof off the arena.
Seeing the arena’s display confirm his victory, Zhang Wen casually sheathed his sword and turned to leave the stage. Though he had won, more importantly, he had witnessed a new sword technique. It seemed his previous belief that imperial martial arts were inferior was inaccurate. At the very least, the female swordsman’s swordplay today was impressive.
Of course, Zhang Wen’s praise was relative to the standards of this world. If it came to a life-or-death duel relying solely on swords, he would certainly integrate his swordplay with the inner techniques of the Spring Water Art. With principles such as sticking (zhan), deflecting (xie), neutralizing (hua), and entangling (chan), his sword techniques would become several times more powerful.
This world’s swordplay was still at the level of form. He had no need to worry too much.
As Zhang Wen was about to leave the stage, the female swordsman suddenly called out, “Hey!”
Zhang Wen turned in confusion. The female swordsman picked up her foil and waved it, speaking in a voice only they could hear: “You’re the Hermit, right? I recognize you! Last time… well, I hope to test your extraordinary sword skills again next time!”
With that, the female swordsman turned and leaped off the stage more gracefully than Zhang Wen himself. He watched as several maids in silver uniforms rushed forward to greet her, escorting her away.
“What last time? Next time? Do I even know her?”
Zhang Wen shook his head, puzzled by the woman’s identity. But as long as it didn’t interfere with him, he didn’t want to waste brainpower on it.
As usual, under the cover of Tie Mian, Xie Luo, and the others, the Hermit slipped into the locker room, unseen again. A few minutes later, Zhang Wen emerged from a secret VIP room on the opposite side. He waved at Xie Luo and made a gesture—“You owe me one.”
The other man naturally understood what it meant and nodded with a bitter smile.
After wrapping up at the arena, Zhang Wen didn’t linger, leaving with the excited Amelie, Cloud, and the others.
…
“Hey, Tie Mian, you must know who that woman is, right?”
After Zhang Wen left, Xie Luo nudged Tie Mian with his elbow. “Tell me, who is she? Such incredible swordplay—I don’t think anyone but Zhang Wen could beat her in that department.”
“She is…” Tie Mian hesitated briefly, then shook his head firmly. “No, I can’t say. Her identity is a secret. Neither of us can afford the consequences.”
“C’mon, not even a hint for me…”
“Xie Luo, rein in your curiosity if you want to live long.” Tie Mian turned and walked away without looking back, ignoring Xie Luo’s calls behind him.
“So secretive… but that woman… Hereditary Sword Art… I feel like I’ve heard of it somewhere.” Rubbing his head, Xie Luo thought about Tie Mian keeping secrets from him, feeling frustrated to the point of madness.
…
The silver-haired female swordsman, surrounded by her female attendants, passed through several alleys before finally entering a lavishly decorated carriage that had been waiting for her.
The interior of the carriage was surprisingly spacious. Tables, cushions, incense burners, chandeliers, wardrobes—every精致 item was arranged with elegant precision, creating a comfortable, luxurious atmosphere.
Upon closer inspection, one would notice that every item—from the lamps to the furniture and even the incense burners—exuded an air of nobility and refinement, clearly beyond the reach of ordinary people.
“Your Highness!” One of her personal maids followed her into the carriage, clearly wanting to say something, but the female swordsman waved her off.
She gently removed her silver mask, as thin as cicada wings, and touched her face. It was a youthful, delicate face, barely eighteen or nineteen years old.
No one would believe that such a young girl could wield such a deadly sword!
She casually placed the silver mask on the table and tapped lightly on the carriage wall. The carriage began to move slowly.
Although念动飞车 were already popular in the empire, the upper echelons still preferred horse-drawn carriages. It was not only a matter of taste and elegance, but also a symbol of noble status.
Leaning back on the soft, snow-white cushions, the girl closed her eyes. Though young, she exuded an aura of regal authority.
“How interesting… Cassares truly is a place of hidden dragons and crouching tigers…” the silver-haired girl murmured to herself in a voice only she could hear. “Even the imperial family’s most powerful inherited sword art lost to him. Zhang Wen, what an interesting man.” A mysterious smile flickered on her lips, then vanished as if it had never been there.
The carriage rolled onward, heading toward the governor’s mansion.
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