Dawn had barely broken when faint rays of light pierced the thin mist and fell upon the open ground before Room C. Zhang Shan clutched the handwritten copy of the Basic Footwork Technique, throwing himself wholeheartedly into training. He muttered the mnemonic formulas under his breath as he clumsily shifted his feet, turned, and moved about. Beads of sweat slid down his cheeks and soaked his collar, yet he remained utterly unaware.
Shen Hao was not idle either. Having just completed a round of cultivation with the Meridian Tempering Art, he practiced the three sword formulas of the Purple Sun Basic Sword Codex twice more before turning his gaze toward Zhang Shan. He knew well that in the Combat Competition, movement techniques and footwork were often the key to defeating an enemy and securing victory. At times, an exquisite footwork technique could both evade a fatal blow and reveal an opening for a counterattack; its importance was no less than that of fierce sword moves.
Yet he possessed no footwork cultivation method. His only option was to observe Zhang Shan's training and grope his way toward comprehension on his own.
Shen Hao stood at the edge of the clearing, his gaze fixed tightly on Zhang Shan's every movement. From the angle at which he set his feet and the range of his turns to the shifts in his center of gravity and the circulation of spiritual energy, Shen Hao engraved every detail into his mind. Only when Zhang Shan grew tired and sat to one side to rest and wipe away his sweat did Shen Hao slowly walk to the center of the clearing and attempt to imitate those movements.
At first, his movements were exceedingly awkward. His steps were unsteady and weak; the moment he took a step, his body swayed, and he nearly toppled to the ground. Spiritual energy moved through the meridians in his legs with unbearable sluggishness, as though two heavy stones had been tied to his feet. Every shift was especially difficult.
"Where exactly lies the key to footwork?" Shen Hao muttered with a frown, yet he was not discouraged in the slightest. Again and again, he repeated the opening stance, slowly channeling the spiritual energy within his Sea of Qi into the meridians of his already tempered legs. The spiritual energy flowed through them warmly, and his legs instantly felt somewhat lighter. As he stepped, he adjusted his center of gravity, feeling out bit by bit the trick of transmitting force from heel to sole, then to toe.
The sun gradually climbed higher, its scorching rays baking the ground until it was hot to the touch. Shen Hao's clothes had long since been soaked through with sweat and clung tightly to his body, but he still did not stop. After repeating the motions countless times, he crossed his steps and spun once more, only to suddenly feel his feet grow light. It was as if the wind were holding him aloft. Spiritual energy flowed smoothly through the meridians in his legs, driving his body to flicker swiftly through the air.
His figure darted ceaselessly across the clearing, leaving behind faint afterimages, so fast that he was nearly impossible to see clearly.
"As the steps shift, so does the center of gravity; as the body moves, spiritual energy follows!" Shen Hao's heart suddenly opened in enlightenment, and a gratified smile appeared on his face. At last, he had gained an initial grasp of the essence of footwork.
He did not stop. Instead, he tried combining the footwork with his sword formulas. His feet suddenly slid several feet to the side, narrowly evading an imaginary oncoming blade. At the same time, his wrist turned, and the Basic Flying Sword in his hand shot out like a venomous snake leaving its hole, piercing forward with a sharp whistle that tore through the air. Its angle was treacherous, leaving one defenseless against it.
The agility of the footwork, paired with the ferocity of the sword moves, instantly made his attacks ever-changing and unpredictable, multiplying their power severalfold.
Shen Hao immersed himself in this exhilarating state of cultivation, practicing again and again. From dawn until dusk, the lingering light of the setting sun dyed the horizon gold and red, spilling across the clearing and coating Shen Hao's agile figure in a golden halo. His steps grew faster, his sword moves smoother, and the fusion of the two became increasingly seamless and natural.
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