Whoosh!
Whoosh, whoosh!
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—
The sun sank in the west, its warm orange light falling over the athletic field.
Qin Shi planted his feet, swung his arms, and slashed again and again, cutting through the air.
His movements were undeniably swift. As he breathed through his nose and exhaled through his lips and teeth, the twelve Bloody Great Sinews in his body throbbed and flexed.
His palms were held upright like single-edged blades, each strike exceptionally sharp, flashing through the air like afterimages with impressive force.
As he grew more practiced at exerting his strength and the flow of his qi quickened, his arms seemed to lash like steel whips. Forget flesh and blood—even solid steel rods would bend and snap beneath them.
I'm still far from it. I can't wield my strength with ease like Old Liang, manipulate the airflow, and create cutting force like a wind blade.
Qin Shi frowned, recalling Old Liang's palm strike. Its chilling killing intent had burst forth like a freshly sharpened blade that could cut through iron.
Is my skill at cultivating momentum still inadequate? Have I failed to visualize well enough with Spirit Cultivation Technique, and so haven't grasped the subtleties of Swift as the Wind?
He pondered it alone, without rushing to ask Old Liang.
The path of Old Martial Arts also emphasized that a master showed you the doorway, but the rest of the journey was up to you.
A master could clear away some of a disciple's obstacles and offer guidance.
But how to learn and improve, how to grasp the deeper principles, all depended on the disciple's own talent.
*With my World-Shaking Wisdom, which let me master Spirit Cultivation Technique in an instant, there's no way I can't grasp the essence of Swift as the Wind.