Tide Surging Stance Mastered

On the path of martial arts, talent and resources were certainly important, but comprehension was what determined how far a martial artist could go.

A lack of talent could be made up for with resources, and a lack of resources could be overcome with time. But a lack of comprehension was like being blocked by a wall: no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't advance an inch.

In his previous life, as a Grandmaster of the Sword Dao, he understood better than anyone the truth that "a towering edifice rises from level ground."

Under the insight of the Void Clarity Sword Heart, he saw through the true core of this sword art almost instantly. The so-called tide's birth was merely an ultimate refinement of the first three forms' principle of "unceasing continuity."

If the foundation had even the slightest flaw, how could one speak of an Ultimate Form?

"I have to start from the beginning and hone every detail to perfection."

"The original owner practiced for three years and only brought the first form, Tide Rising Stance, to the entry level. It wasn't that he lacked diligence. His comprehension was limited, and in the end, he couldn't see through the word 'stance.'"

Qin Jue furrowed his brow slightly. He carefully recalled every movement of the original owner's Tide Rising Stance, then couldn't help letting out a soft laugh, tinged with helplessness.

"Is this sword practice? It's more like dancing for the blind."

With the wondrous insight of the Void Clarity Sword Heart, Qin Jue saw everything clearly. The original owner's swordplay looked fluid, but in truth, it was full of openings.

Every time he finished a sword stroke, he paused for an instant. That instant was where the sword's momentum broke—and where an opponent could exploit an opening.

How could such swordplay be called "continuous"?

"Flashy nonsense, full of openings."

Qin Jue shook his head and casually flourished his sword with a simple, decisive motion, without the slightest hesitation or wasted movement.

"A real sword is for killing, not putting on a show."

Once he understood this, Qin Jue stopped at once, drew a deep breath, and assumed the starting stance.

This time, he stripped away all those showy, impractical movements, leaving only the simplest, most precise techniques. Then—he struck!

"Swish!"

The sword thrust out, its edge cutting through the night. Simple, swift, without a single unnecessary pause.

"Shhk—"

Before the first sword had even drawn back, the second swept diagonally upward along its momentum. There wasn't the slightest break between the two strokes.

"Whoosh!"

Before the force of the second sword had faded, the third turned back along its momentum and stabbed straight ahead!

The three strokes flowed together like running water, their momentum unbroken, like a rushing stream that never ran dry.

Qin Jue lowered his sword and stood still, a trace of satisfaction flashing through his eyes.

"That's more like it."

"The 'birth' of sword momentum doesn't lie in elaborate, showy moves. It lies in keeping that momentum from ever ending, letting it flow like water, ceaseless and unending! Only when you understand this principle have you truly begun to master this sword art."

Standing still, he savored the wondrous feeling of that instant. A hard-to-describe exhilaration surged through his chest. After a long while, he slowly breathed out a stream of white vapor, calmed himself, assumed the starting stance, and began practicing again.

Once.

Twice.

Three times...

With each pass, his sword momentum flowed more smoothly, and the transitions between the three strokes grew more natural. Gradually, even Qin Jue felt as if those three strokes had become one, with no break between them.

Under the Void Clarity Sword Heart's influence, Qin Jue's comprehension soared. His blood and qi surged through his meridians in time with his sword. The sword moved, his blood and qi moved, his breath moved—even his heartbeat merged with the sword's momentum. He seemed to become a flowing, ceaseless current of momentum, completely one with the iron sword in his hand.

He practiced over and over, utterly absorbed, and before he knew it, half an hour had passed.

Moonlight spilled across the courtyard's stone paving, and Qin Jue's figure looked especially focused beneath its glow. He practiced again, and this time, his sword momentum had changed dramatically.

The first sword thrust straight ahead, its tip trembling lightly as it drew a faint hiss from the air.

The second swept diagonally upward, its momentum turning around without pause. The first stroke's finish became the next stroke's beginning.

The third turned with the flow, its edge like a thread as it traced a smooth arc.

The three strokes formed a complete cycle, so fast that their shadows were almost impossible to make out. Only streaks of unbroken silver light flickered beneath the moon. The sword momentum surged like a rising tide, ceaseless, as though it would never stop.

Only then did Qin Jue lower his sword and stand still. His chest rose and fell slightly as he breathed out a long stream of air. In the cool autumn breeze, it condensed into white mist that lingered in the air.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Feeling the ache in his muscles, the corner of his mouth twitched.

Qin Jue smiled bitterly and rubbed his sore shoulder. "This body's foundation is still too weak. It can't handle even a little intensity. Looks like I'll need to do more than practice swordplay from now on—I'll have to find some medicinal herbs to nourish myself. Sigh, I'm broke..."

At the thought, his brow furrowed even deeper.

"Keep going. It's not enough yet!"

He quickly calmed his mind.

Tide Rising Stance had reached mastery, but if he wanted to defeat Ning Zhiyuan, this single sword form was nowhere near enough. Qin Jue's gaze fell on the second form in the sword manual, Tide Surging Stance: "Retreat to gather momentum; surge to unleash it."

A glint flashed in Qin Jue's eyes.

If sword momentum could flow without end, could he deliberately gather it within that unbroken flow, then unleash it all in a single instant?

The moment the thought arose, Qin Jue could no longer hold back. His blood and qi stirred as he assumed the starting stance and struck again.

The first sword thrust straight ahead, its momentum as steady as water.

The second swept diagonally, its momentum turning like a wheel.

The third sword... Qin Jue didn't thrust along with the flow as he had before. Instead, he suddenly lowered the sword's momentum and deliberately slowed it. The blood and qi surging through his body gathered back with it, like countless streams converging into a river as the tide receded, like a beast poised to strike.

At that very instant—

"Tide Surging Stance!"

Qin Jue gave a low shout, and all the momentum he had gathered burst forth!

"Shhk—"

The sword tip pierced the air with a sharp whistle, stabbing straight toward the stone table in the courtyard. It moved so fast that the air compressed into a streak of white mist.

"Crack!"

The bluestone split with a sharp snap, leaving a deep sword mark!

Qin Jue lowered his sword and stood still, his arm trembling slightly, fine beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

"Just as I thought."

He looked down at the sword mark on the stone table, then at the iron sword in his hand. The blade still trembled, letting out a strained hum.

Qin Jue gently stroked the blade, as if soothing a startled old horse.

"This sword won't hold out much longer."

Qin Jue shook his head. "But it should last until the martial exhibition."

"Now that I've grasped the ceaseless principle of Tide Rising Stance, Tide Surging Stance is no longer mysterious."

With the insight of the Void Clarity Sword Heart, he had already glimpsed a hint of the true principle behind gathering momentum and unleashing it, at the end of that unbroken flow of sword momentum.

Though he still couldn't truly perform the second form, weaving a single attack that gathered and unleashed momentum into the flow was already enough to catch any martial artist of the same tier off guard.

But the price was a sore arm and surging blood and qi.

"This body is too weak. I still need to nurse it back to health."

Qin Jue returned to his room, sat cross-legged on a cushion, closed his eyes, and circulated the Azure Pine Qi Drawing Art, letting the surging blood and qi within him gradually settle.

Though the Azure Pine Qi Drawing Art was only Mortal Tier Mid-grade, it was gentle and steady, making it ideal for healing and recovery. That suited Qin Jue's current needs perfectly.

An incense stick later, his blood and qi had finally settled. Qin Jue stopped cultivating, fell onto his bed, and sank into a deep sleep.

The next morning, just as the sky was beginning to brighten, Qin Jue woke up.

After a quick wash, he went back out into the courtyard and resumed practicing his sword.

This time, he didn't practice any new moves. Instead, he repeated the swordplay from the night before, again and again, making his body remember the unbroken sword momentum and his muscles form new memories.

No matter how exquisite a martial technique was, it was useless if the body couldn't keep up.

Once, twice, three times...

Qin Jue didn't stop until the sun was high in the sky. By then, sweat drenched him and his blood and qi were surging, but his eyes had grown brighter than ever.

"That should do it."

He felt the flow of blood and qi within him. Although his realm hadn't advanced, his combat strength was more than a cut above yesterday's.

For the next two days, Qin Jue stayed in the courtyard and didn't step outside.

The chatter outside grew louder and livelier, but he didn't respond to a word of it.

Some said he was too scared to leave the house.

Some said he had accepted his fate and was waiting to die.

Others said he might run away on the day of the martial exhibition.

Qin Jue said nothing. Every night, he practiced his sword in the courtyard; during the day, he meditated and regulated his breathing, restoring his blood and qi.

He knew full well that with his current strength, the only way to defeat Ning Zhiyuan was through "skill."

His realm was inferior, his strength was inferior, so he could only overwhelm his opponent with technique.

And when it came to "skill," he had never feared anyone—not in his previous life as a Grandmaster of the Sword Dao.

The third night.

The moonlight flowed like water.

As always, Qin Jue stood in the courtyard, gripping his iron sword as he practiced the unbroken sword momentum of Tide Rising Stance over and over. Each time, as the third stroke turned, he tried to gather momentum, mimicking the explosive force of Tide Surging Stance.

Once, twice, three times...

His sword momentum grew smoother, and the gathering of force more natural.

On the seventeenth attempt, as the third stroke turned, he seemed to see the seawater gathering as the tide receded, countless trickling streams converging into one—and then—

"Tide Surging Stance!"

Qin Jue gave a low shout, and all the momentum he had gathered burst forth!

"Boom—"

The sword tip stabbed straight toward the courtyard wall, moving more than twice as fast as before! The blade compressed the air into a white streak, and the iron sword let out a sharp hum.

"Bang!"

The courtyard wall's blue bricks shattered at the impact. Cracks spread like a spiderweb from the point where the sword tip struck, covering a radius of three feet!

Qin Jue lowered his sword and stood still, his arm trembling violently as waves of pain shot through his bones and muscles.

But his eyes gleamed with excitement.

"I did it!"

Tide Surging Stance—mastered!

Though his bones and muscles hadn't yet reached the Jade Bone Realm, each use of the move strained his body. Yet, relying on his past-life understanding of the sword, he had forcibly mastered a martial technique that should only be fully wielded at the Hundred Refinements Fourth to Sixth Layer, despite being only at the Hundred Refinements Third Layer.

Cultivation beyond one's tier!

At the Outer Prefecture of Qingcang Academy, this was an exceedingly rare feat.

Qin Jue lowered his gaze to his arm. Faint purplish-blue bruises showed beneath his skin—the internal injuries caused by his bones and muscles failing to withstand the force's recoil.

"At most, I can take it three times."

Qin Jue considered the matter. With his body as it was, he could force himself to use Tide Surging Stance at most three times. Any more, and his bones and muscles would surely be damaged beyond repair.

He moved his arm. A tearing pain made him grimace and suck in a sharp breath.

"Yikes... that really hurts."

But the smile on his lips didn't fade in the slightest.

"But one time is enough to deal with Ning Zhiyuan."

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

The day of the martial exhibition had arrived.