The Wind Rises at the End of the Green Duckweed

"Boom—"

With a dull thud, the bluestone ground was stomped into a deep pit, fragments of stone scattering in all directions.

Ning Zhiyuan's figure exploded into motion!

His war blade traced a bloody arc through the air, its momentum heavy as a mountain, slashing down toward Qin Jue's head!

"Rippling Waves Strike!"

A muffled resonance like crashing tides echoed from Ning Zhiyuan's bones. His entire blood and qi surged forth, pouring entirely into the war blade. As this strike descended, even the air was compressed into a shrieking burst!

A flicker of gravity passed through Qin Jue's eyes.

This strike—he couldn't take it head-on!

He shifted his footing, his body flowing like water three feet to the side, his iron sword slanting upward.

"Shua—"

The blade edge scraped past the sword body once more, but this time, the heavy force from the war blade was suddenly several times stronger than before!

Qin Jue felt his wrist jolt, his tiger's mouth going numb, and he was forced half a step back.

"Hahaha!"

Ning Zhiyuan laughed heartily, his eyes wild with ferocity. "Qin Jue, you're good at dodging, aren't you? Now let's see where you can run!"

Before his words faded, he pushed off the ground again, his body surging forward!

"Rippling Waves Strike!"

The resonance in his bones grew fiercer. The force from the first strike, not yet fully released, was stored within his skeleton, now stacking with the new power of the second strike. The blood light on the war blade blazed brighter, its momentum crashing down like a furious sea!

This strike was a full thirty percent heavier than the first!

The watching disciples paled in shock, clearly recognizing the terror of this move.

"Such terrifying blade momentum!"

"This is Senior Brother Ning's Rippling Waves Blade Art! Each strike is heavier than the last!"

"Qin Jue barely managed the first one... this strike... he probably can't hold out!"

On the Martial Arena, Qin Jue's expression remained calm, though his eyes narrowed slightly, locking onto the point where the blade's momentum was both strongest and weakest.

"He's just relying on his higher realm to crush me."

Instead of retreating, Qin Jue stepped forward into the blade wind.

His iron sword transformed into a blur of shadows in that instant!

"Tide Rising Stance!"

Sword light flowed like water. Three sword shadows struck out almost simultaneously, their momentum unbroken, tangling with the war blade from three different angles at the critical moment!

"Chi chi chi—"

The blade tip tapped the sword body three times, each touch deflecting a portion of the force.

The stacked power of this strike was mostly neutralized by Qin Jue in this manner!

But even so, the force of the second strike remained immense. Qin Jue felt a massive shockwave through his iron sword, sending him stumbling back two steps, his arms going numb!

"Not done yet!"

Seeing Qin Jue forced back, Ning Zhiyuan's grin turned even more savage. "Lucky you could take the second strike. But this is where it ends!"

His aura surged again, his blood and qi fully boiling—he was about to unleash the third strike!

"Rippling Waves Strike!"

The resonance in his bones rumbled like muffled thunder. The stored force from the first two strikes erupted completely, stacking with the third.

Ning Zhiyuan gritted his teeth, veins bulging, forcing the three forces together. As this strike fell, the blood light on the war blade reached its peak, its momentum crashing down like a mountain collapsing!

The first strike split a wooden post, the second severed refined iron, and this third strike—

Already possessed the might to split mountains and shatter rocks!

The air in the entire Martial Arena seemed to solidify under this pressure!

The watching disciples scrambled back; those with weaker cultivation turned pale just from the residual force of the blade momentum!

"Too strong!"

"This strike... even a Hundred Refinements Fifth Layer martial artist would have to dodge!"

"Can Qin Jue withstand it?"

"No way! He was knocked back by the first two strikes, and this third is even fiercer—his sword is going to shatter!"

On the High Platform, Chu Hanjiang's eyes flashed with sharp light. "Three stacked strikes, each layering force... but Ning Zhiyuan's Rippling Waves Blade Art isn't polished yet, just a beginner."

Yun Qianyue frowned slightly. "The stacking isn't smooth—seven parts brute force, three parts technique. But that Qin Jue..."

Her gaze fell on Qin Jue in the arena. "To hold out this long with just the first stance of the Tide Rising Sword Technique shows exceptional swordsmanship. Pity he's a realm lower—ultimately, his strength falls short."

"Not necessarily."

Chu Hanjiang said flatly, "Take another look."

Yun Qianyue was momentarily stunned, then cast her gaze back to the Martial Arena.

On the Martial Arena.

Facing this terrifying third strike, Qin Jue narrowed his eyes slightly, the howling blade-light reflected deep in his pupils, with not a trace of panic in his gaze.

"Not enough yet..."

He sidestepped, his form flowing like water, the iron sword in his hand transforming into a blur of sword-shadows!

"[Tide Rising Stance]!"

The first sword slanted upward, its momentum like water, brushing lightly against the blade with a "chi" sound, deflecting the first portion of the blade's force.

The second sword followed in a smooth rotation, the sword tip tapping against the blade several times, deflecting another portion of the blade's force.

The watching disciples sighed and shook their heads.

"Tide Rising Stance again..."

"It's useless."

Someone looked on with regret, unable to bear watching further: "Qin Jue's swordsmanship is indeed decent, it's already impressive he's held out this long."

"A pity, Senior Brother Ning's third strike is too terrifying. Relying on Tide Rising Stance alone, he probably can't block it..."

"This time, Qin Jue is likely to be severely injured..."

Just as everyone was convinced Qin Jue was about to lose, at that very moment when the second sword turned and was about to unleash the third—

A sharp gleam flashed in Qin Jue's eyes!

In that instant of the sword's momentum turning, his blood and qi suddenly converged within him. The momentum of the first two swords merged into one at this moment, like seawater flowing back during low tide, countless trickling streams gathering into a great river!

This was the pinnacle realm of [Tide Surging Stance]—accumulating momentum and erupting, perfectly natural!

This sword technique demanded extremely high control over sword momentum. The slightest misstep would either leave the momentum insufficient or scatter it chaotically, rendering it powerless.

Yet Qin Jue executed this sword with effortless fluidity at this very moment!

A sudden sense of unease surged in Ning Zhiyuan's heart!

"Not good!"

But it was already too late!

In the instant the third sword turned—

"[Tide Surging Stance]!"

Qin Jue let out a low shout, and all the accumulated sword momentum erupted forth at this moment!

"Boom—"

The iron sword pierced the air, emitting a sharp whine. The speed of this sword was more than double that of the previous two!

The air was compressed by the sword tip into a white trail of mist, the sword momentum surging out like a tidal wave, unstoppable!

"Clang—"

Sword and blade clashed, exploding with a deafening ring of metal!

"Boom!"

A terrifying shockwave spread outward from the two of them, the bluestone ground shattered inch by inch under this force, cracks spreading like a spiderweb!

Ning Zhiyuan felt his tiger's mouth go numb. A tremendous shock traveled through his war blade, and the weapon in his hand was sent flying uncontrollably!

"How is this possible!?"

His eyes were filled with disbelief. His proud Rippling Waves Third Strike had actually been sent flying by Qin Jue's sword!

And Qin Jue's sword momentum had not yet ceased. This was the nature of the surging tide—once it erupted, it was unstoppable. The second sword followed immediately!

"Shua—"

Sword-light like water, thrusting straight at Ning Zhiyuan's chest!

Ning Zhiyuan was greatly alarmed. He hadn't expected Qin Jue's sword to have a follow-up. In his haste, he could only block with his arm!

"Chi—"

The sword tip stabbed into his arm, instantly cutting a bloody gash as blood splattered!

Ning Zhiyuan flew backward, tumbling several times in the air before crashing heavily onto the ground over ten zhang away, sliding several more chi before stopping. He opened his mouth and spat out a mouthful of blood!

Then, Qin Jue looked down at the iron sword in his hand.

The iron sword was covered in cracks, and finally, with a "pa" sound, it shattered into several pieces, leaving only a bare hilt in his grasp.

"Tch."

Qin Jue shook his head, a pained expression flashing across his face.

The entire Martial Arena fell into a deathly silence.

Everyone's eyes were wide, faces full of disbelief. What had just happened completely exceeded their expectations.

A moment later—

"How is that possible!?"

"Ning Zhiyuan... lost!?"

"That sword strike just now... was the [Tide Surging Stance]!?"

"Impossible! Qin Jue is only at Hundred Refinements Third Layer, how could he possibly master the [Tide Surging Stance]!?"

"That's a martial skill from the second stance of the Tide Rising Sword Technique—even martial artists at Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer might not be able to grasp it!"

"This... this is simply unbelievable!"

The crowd erupted into an uproar, everyone discussing among themselves, their gazes toward Qin Jue filled with shock and reverence.

On the High Platform, Chu Hanjiang's eyes flickered with surprise for a fleeting moment, then he gave Qin Jue a deep look, said nothing, turned around, and strode away.

Yun Qianyue, however, stared thoughtfully at that youth, a hint of unusual brilliance flickering in her clear, cold eyes: "Mastering the [Tide Surging Stance] to great completion isn't hard. What's hard is seizing the opportunity in that instant—retreating the tide to gather power, surging forth to unleash it... That understanding of sword momentum is seasoned beyond a youth of his age, more like... a swordsman steeped in this path for decades."

Having said this, she withdrew her gaze, a trace of doubt lingering, and turned to leave.

On the Martial Arena, Qin Jue looked at the iron sword in his hand, now nothing but a hilt, casually tossed it aside, then brushed the dust from his robes, turned, and walked toward the steward's platform.

His expression was calm, as if what he had just done was nothing more than a trivial matter.

Ma Chen's smile had completely frozen on his face, staring blankly in the direction where Ning Zhiyuan had fallen.

Steward Lin Xiuyuan gave Qin Jue a long, searching look, pondered for a moment, then slowly spoke: "This match, Qin Jue wins."

Lin Xiuyuan glanced at the roster in his hand, then looked back at Qin Jue: "According to Qingcang Academy's rules, the victor of a challenge receives half the loser's Battle Merit. Ning Zhiyuan currently has three hundred and twenty points of Battle Merit. You obtain one hundred and sixty points."

At the words "Battle Merit," a genuine smile finally surfaced on Qin Jue's face.

He gave a slight bow: "Thank you, Steward Lin."

One had to know, Battle Merit at Qingcang Academy was extremely precious—it not only affected the monthly rankings but also determined whether one could obtain the academy's cultivation resources.

And Ning Zhiyuan, as a martial artist at Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer, had accumulated a considerable amount of Battle Merit during this period, already reaching three hundred and twenty points.

Now, instead, Qin Jue had snatched away one hundred and sixty points of Battle Merit. For Ning Zhiyuan, this was nothing short of losing the wife and losing the soldiers.

Ning Zhiyuan's chest heaved as he gasped for air in great, ragged breaths.

He... lost?

Lost to a Qin Jue at Hundred Refinements Third Layer?

How was this possible!

Ning Zhiyuan struggled to rise in unwillingness, only to find that the shockwave from that final sword strike had sent his entire meridian network into turmoil, his internal qi and blood in chaos, leaving him utterly powerless.

"This can't be... this can't be..."

He muttered to himself, his face pale as paper, until finally his eyes rolled back and he fainted on the spot.

Qin Jue calmly walked down the Martial Stage, and the crowd parted to make way for him.

Everyone stared at him with shock, reverence, and disbelief—this youth, whom three days ago everyone had thought would surely lose, had today created an astonishing record: with the cultivation of Hundred Refinements Third Layer, he had defeated Ning Zhiyuan of Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer in a head-on battle!

And not by luck, but by true strength—a single sword strike breaking Ning Zhiyuan's proud Rippling Waves Third Strike. This kind of combat power far exceeded that of ordinary martial artists at the same level.

One had to know, martial artists capable of fighting above their level were already rare, and even rarer were those who could do so in a direct confrontation. This was no longer a matter of talent, but an understanding of martial skills and a grasp of combat opportunities that had reached a level worthy of awe.

Su Jin stood beneath the Stone Pavilion, watching Qin Jue's gradually receding back, her eyes filled with complex emotions.

This youth had truly changed.

Changed to the point where... he felt unfamiliar to her, and also stirred a certain indescribable feeling within her.

Shen Zhiqiu tugged at her sleeve, her face full of shock: "Jin Jin, Qin Jue... he actually won! How is that possible!? That was Ning Zhiyuan at Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer!"

Su Jin was silent for a moment, then nodded lightly.

"Yes, he won."

And at this moment, Qin Jue had already walked out of the Martial Arena.

He looked up at the sky, squinting slightly as he felt the warmth of the sun, and stretched.

On this day, Qingcang Academy remained as bustling as ever—some lamented Ning Zhiyuan's defeat, others discussed the mystery of that [Tide Surging Stance].

But no one knew that a soul, trapped in a barren, solitary world for sixty years, having sharpened his sword for six decades without making a single inch of progress, had finally broken free of his shackles.

Like a drought finally meeting rain, or a trapped dragon entering the sea.

Thus, the wind rises at the tip of duckweed, and waves form between the faintest ripples.