The Cultivation Level Test came to an end, and the second assessment, the Sword Art Assessment, began immediately afterward.
In the center of the square, dozens of straw dummies had been arranged in neat rows. A conspicuous red circle had been drawn over each dummy's chest, throat, and brow—the designated attack points for the three Basic Sword Art forms: slash, thrust, and upward sweep.
"Disciples, step forward in turn. Wield your Flying Swords and perform the three sword forms. The council of elders will score you based on the precision and power of your moves. A perfect score is one hundred!" The Chief Deacon Elder's voice rang out once more. "Remember, your sword moves must strike the red circles precisely, or points will be deducted as appropriate!"
The disciples took the field one after another, and the results quickly revealed who stood above the rest. Some displayed standard sword forms with tremendous force, drawing repeated nods from the elders; others were stiff and unpracticed, unable even to hit the red circles, and received miserable scores.
Wang Hu stepped forward first, holding a mid-grade Flying Sword, his face brimming with confidence. He took a deep breath and poured spiritual energy into the blade. Then he raised the Flying Sword high and slashed down fiercely. The strike howled through the air and landed squarely on the red circle over the dummy's chest, sending wood chips flying. Immediately afterward, he steadied his footing, thrust with ferocity, and swept upward at a tricky angle. The three sword forms flowed forth in one breath, smooth as drifting clouds and flowing water.
"Wang Hu, standard sword forms, tremendous power—ninety points!" an elder announced loudly.
Wang Hu proudly raised his chin, bowed toward the high platform, and strode from the field with his head held high.
Zhang Shan followed close behind. He took a deep breath, gripped the Basic Flying Sword in his hand, and slowly walked before the straw dummy. Following the incantations of the Purple Sun Basic Sword Codex, he performed each move and form in sequence. Though his movements were somewhat raw and his strength slightly lacking, he was steady, and all three attack points were struck accurately.
"Zhang Shan, sword forms passable—seventy points!"
Zhang Shan let out a breath of relief. He bowed to the elders, gave Shen Hao a reassuring gesture, and only then returned to the ranks.
At last, it was Shen Hao's turn.
He slowly walked before the straw dummy and bowed toward the high platform, then gripped the Basic Flying Sword in his hand. Spiritual energy from within his Sea of Qi gradually flowed into the blade, and a faint layer of azure light appeared over the Flying Sword. It was not dazzling, yet it carried a condensed, refined aura.
Shen Hao shifted his feet, lowered his center of gravity, and exerted force through his waist and abdomen, driving his arm into a fierce downward slash—Bang! With a dull crash, the red circle on the dummy's chest shattered instantly, wood chips spraying three feet away. Before the chips could hit the ground, his figure flashed. He drove his footwork to its limit, twisted his wrist, and sent the Flying Sword shooting out like a venomous snake leaving its hole, piercing the red circle at the throat with incomparable precision. Next, he lightly raised his arm, and Sword Light traced a graceful arc as it swept toward the red circle at the brow, every movement smooth as drifting clouds and flowing water, without the slightest hitch.
Under the enhancement of his footwork, the three sword forms—slash, thrust, and upward sweep—seemed to form a single seamless whole. Not only did they strike every attack point with precision, but they also carried a sharp, imposing force that left the surrounding disciples dumbfounded.
The elders on the high platform all nodded, their eyes filled with approval. The Chief Deacon Elder stroked his beard and declared in a ringing voice, "Shen Hao, your sword forms are exquisite, your power mighty, and your footwork and sword art are perfectly integrated. One hundred points!"
"A perfect score! It's actually a perfect score!" "Those sword moves were far too smooth—I can only watch his dust from afar!" "He's trained the Basic Sword Art to its very limit! He's too strong!"
An uproar rose across the square once more. The disciples looked at Shen Hao with reverence in their eyes. Shen Hao sheathed his sword and stood calmly. After bowing to the elders, he returned to the ranks. Zhang Shan ran over, seized his arm in excitement, and said with a trembling voice, "Senior Brother Shen, you're incredible! A perfect score!"
Shen Hao smiled faintly and patted the back of his hand. "I merely performed well."
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