Martial Arts

The convoy traveled through the night, its wheels creaking. The Imperial Guards were temporarily led by the deputy commander. Of the original five hundred Imperial Guards, only four hundred remained. More than half of the palace maids and eunuchs in the wedding procession had also been lost. No one had expected so much to happen in the span of a single day.

What was hardest for everyone to accept was that, even now, they did not know who had struck from the shadows.

Even why the Divine Son of the Eternal Night Divine Cult had appeared here was beyond comprehension.

Inside the carriage, Sword Enshrined sat with his eyes closed, tending to his injuries. Beside him, Ning Chen leaned against the carriage wall, quietly digesting everything that had happened today.

Compared with the assassination during the day, the Divine Son's appearance tonight had shaken him far more. It had allowed him to experience firsthand just how terrifying a martial arts expert could be.

Human strength defying the heavens did not seem to be mere legend.

"How was it?"

Sword Enshrined opened his eyes and looked at the silent Ning Chen.

"Unfathomable," Ning Chen answered honestly.

He had underestimated martial arts too greatly in the past. Whether it was because he was ignorant or because he had been looking at the sky from the bottom of a well, he had never imagined martial arts could leave such a tremendous impact on him.

Jun Shaoqing, the Divine Son, truly lived up to the name Divine Son.

Sword Enshrined nodded. In his view, Ning Chen had already performed well enough. When he had first encountered true martial arts, he had been far less calm than Ning Chen.

"He is the Divine Son. He deserves every word of praise."

Sword Enshrined spoke, then closed his eyes again and continued circulating his true qi to heal his injuries.

The path of martial arts had to be walked alone. He could offer a word of guidance, but there was no need to spell everything out too clearly.

Ning Chen carefully considered the old man's words. Sword Enshrined's meaning was not difficult to understand. The greatest glory of the title Divine Son was not the identity itself, but the awe-inspiring strength behind it.

In other words, Jun Shaoqing's reputation had been carved out through battle, earned by stepping upon the bones of countless experts.

It was only natural that Ning Chen now looked up at Jun Shaoqing with admiration, because the Divine Son stood far too high.

Thinking of this, Ning Chen closed his eyes and began cultivating in silence as well. If he did not want to keep looking upward, then from this day onward, he had to cultivate twice as hard. Otherwise, he would have to spend his entire life craning his neck to look at that person.

The change in his state of mind made Ning Chen put away his usual casual attitude and focus wholeheartedly on cultivating the cultivation technique recorded in the Scroll of Life.

Since Jun Shaoqing had sensed the existence of the Scroll of Life, he would not let the matter rest. Although Ning Chen had promptly concealed his aura after breaking through this time, he might not be so fortunate next time.

Before an expert like Jun Shaoqing, even an army of a thousand troops and ten thousand horses could not stop his advance. If Ning Chen truly wished to protect the secret of the Scroll of Life, he had to make himself stronger.

Sensing the change in the young man before him, a strange glint flashed through Sword Enshrined's eyes. If Ning Chen had previously merely been an uncut jade, then at this moment, that jade had begun to reveal its beautiful radiance.

It was true that talent was the most crucial factor on the path of martial arts, but once one had embarked upon that road, what truly mattered was determination and perseverance. His talent in youth could not be called outstanding, yet he had still relied on persistence to reach this point.

The five lofty Innate experts of this world indeed possessed peerless gifts far surpassing those of ordinary people. But then again, there were only five known Innate experts in the world.

Most martial artists possessed only mediocre talent.

Ning Chen did not know that Qing Ling, Mu Chengxue, and even Xia Miaoyu, whom he had encountered before, were all rare martial arts prodigies. At only twenty years old, they had already cultivated to the peak of the Ninth Rank, a realm others could never catch even a glimpse of in an entire lifetime. Compared to them, his unremarkable aptitude naturally amounted to nothing.

However, though the gap between him and geniuses was vast, among the ranks of "ordinary people," he stood out quite clearly.

After all, not everyone was fortunate enough to receive guidance from more than one Ninth-Rank peak expert.

Second Rank martial arts, within the army, would make one an expert fit to serve as a centurion.

The only shortcoming was that he was truly not skilled in martial techniques.

Of course, that was also related to Qing Ling and Mu Chengxue deliberately—or perhaps unconsciously—not wanting to teach him any moves.

Putting those reasons aside, Ning Chen could now barely be considered a martial artist.

Under the night sky, the wedding convoy moved slowly onward. Who could have imagined that nearly a thousand people traveling through the night were doing so because of a single person?

A convoy guarded by two Ninth-Rank peak experts, both standing at the summit of martial arts, still could not withstand the Divine Son's sharp edge. The cold wind swept past, carrying bone-piercing desolation.

The journey continued until noon the next day. After leaving the wilderness and reaching a mountainous region, the acting deputy commander of the Imperial Guards finally gave the order to stop and rest.

Xia Miaoyu had been regulating her breath inside her carriage all this time, and no one dared disturb her. After last night's battle, everyone had learned just how powerful this seemingly frail princess truly was.

The convoy rested for about half an hour before the deputy commander, clad in heavy armor, had no choice but to come forward and ask for instructions. The road ahead was rugged, and if they set out now, they would very likely have to camp in the mountains at night.

"Continue onward."

A pleasant voice came from within the lavish carriage, calm yet beyond question.

The deputy commander cupped his fists and accepted the order, then walked to the front of the convoy and ordered them to move out.

Half a day later, as the sky darkened, the travel-weary convoy finally received a night of rest. Even in the wilderness, no one had the energy to care about such things anymore.

Xia Miaoyu had returned to her own tent early and ordered that no one was to enter without her permission. Ning Chen naturally would not be so idle as to provoke her. He had no habit of being a servant and waiting on others. As long as Xia Miaoyu did not summon him, he would be delighted to remain free and untroubled for the entire journey.

While setting up the tents, Ning Chen deliberately placed his own close to Sword Enshrined's. Once the campfire was lit and they had eaten a simple meal of dried rations, most of the Imperial Guards, eunuchs, and palace maids who had been exhausted all day returned to their tents to rest. Only some Imperial Guards remained on watch, patrolling back and forth against assassins and wild beasts.

Sword Enshrined sat beside the campfire without returning to his tent. The assassination yesterday and the matter of the Divine Son had forced him to be even more vigilant. Everyone knew this journey would not be easy, but no one had expected the enemies to become more troublesome with every appearance.

Once they crossed this mountain range, they would not be far from the city where Marquis Buyi was stationed. Before then, he did not wish for any further accidents to occur.

Since Sword Enshrined was not resting, Ning Chen did not return to his tent either. Instead, he remained beside the old man and silently cultivated his cultivation technique until midnight, when he finally opened his eyes.

"Senior, can you teach me how to cultivate?"

Ning Chen's question came abruptly. By cultivation, he naturally meant martial techniques. He already had a cultivation technique, and it was no worse than anyone else's.

Sword Enshrined fell silent. He neither refused nor agreed.

"The princess is more suitable than I am."

After a long while, Sword Enshrined spoke in a hoarse voice.

Ning Chen understood the old man's meaning. Qing Ling had said that the true qi in his body was of a cold nature, while Xia Miaoyu's techniques had likewise carried a bone-chilling coldness. If someone were to guide his cultivation, Xia Miaoyu truly was the best choice.

"She is a princess."

Ning Chen said this calmly and spoke no further.

The old man fell silent again, seemingly lost in thought.

Ning Chen was not in a hurry. He waited quietly at the side. Though he had cultivated for only a short time, he knew that sectarian notions on the path of martial arts were exceedingly old-fashioned.

This request was somewhat rude. If there had been anyone else beside him whom he could ask, he would not have sought help from the old man.

"One chance. If you do not fall, I will teach you one move."

After around ten breaths, Sword Enshrined spoke calmly.

"Thank you."

There was no joy in Ning Chen's eyes. After solemnly offering his thanks, he rose to his feet.

He knew how powerful the old man was, so there was nothing to be happy about.

What the old man had given him was merely an opportunity—an opportunity to teach him, and also an opportunity to refuse him.

After Ning Chen stood up, the old man rose as well. Ning Chen's expression immediately became even more grave.

The old man's actions showed that he would not go easy on him.

One move in exchange for one move—fair and just, yet not fair at all.

The night wind was cold. Even with the campfire beneath them, the dry branches crackled as they burned, their sounds exceptionally clear in the silent night. The Imperial Guards keeping watch in the distance seemed to sense something and turned their eyes toward them.

In that instant of watchfulness, Sword Enshrined's sword moved. No one could see how it left its sheath. By the time they came to their senses, the sword was already drawn.

A sword without contention or desire came without warning. It carried not a trace of true qi, nor did it need any true qi.

This was the only chance he gave Ning Chen. If a Ninth-Rank peak expert moved his true qi, everything within a hundred feet would be cut apart. That would no longer be an opportunity.

Thus, this unfair battle became remarkably fair.

The true meaning of the sword was nothing more than speed, precision, and focus.

Sword Enshrined's sword was fast enough, precise enough, and focused enough. Originally, Ning Chen had no chance of avoiding it.

However, after coming to this world, Ning Chen had developed a cautious nature and a fear of death. Especially when facing Changsun, he would instinctively retreat half a step every time.

Today, before Sword Enshrined, he instinctively retreated half a step as well.

But he was not Sword Enshrined. His half-step retreat was not precise enough, and therefore Sword Enshrined's sword was no longer precise enough.

The sword entered his body. Ning Chen staggered back several steps, endured the pain, and used the movement technique Qing Ling had taught him to evade another three steps.

The sword still pierced his body. Ning Chen had still failed to avoid it, but there was no need to avoid it anymore. He had not fainted, nor had he fallen. That was victory.

"From tonight onward, I will teach you how to use a sword."

Sword Enshrined withdrew his sword, sealed Ning Chen's wound with a finger, and then spoke indifferently.

"Thank you, Senior."

Ning Chen clutched his chest and coughed lightly.

"Do not thank me. You won this yourself."

As he spoke, Sword Enshrined sat cross-legged beside the campfire, placed his sword across his knees once more, and closed his eyes to rest.

Ning Chen also sat down at the side and began regulating his breath. The old man's sword had carried no killing intent, and the wound was not deep. Compared to this sword wound, yesterday's arrow had been much more serious.

Another hour passed. The old man opened his eyes, and Ning Chen awoke at the same time.

"Go swing your sword. Keep practicing until I tell you to stop."

Sword Enshrined moved his hand. From a carriage in the distance, a black iron sword flew over and landed before Ning Chen with a clang.

"Yes."

Ning Chen picked up the sword, walked to the side, and began swinging it again and again.

Sword Enshrined's expression did not change as he closed his eyes once more.

Ning Chen did not ask any questions. He simply swung the sword in his hand attentively. Once, twice...

A simple sword swing, so simple that anyone could do it. Yet after Ning Chen swung it more and more, for longer and longer, he discovered that swinging a sword was truly difficult.

No two swings could follow exactly the same trajectory, and no two swings could carry exactly the same force. Ning Chen swung his sword all night until his arm nearly lost all feeling, yet he stubbornly persisted.

At dawn, the convoy set out. Ning Chen practiced swinging his sword while walking. The true qi within his body proved useful at this time, at least easing the soreness in his arm in time.

"Tonight, practice thrusting your sword."

When night fell, Sword Enshrined spoke again. He still did not teach Ning Chen any techniques, merely changed the practice from swinging to thrusting.

Ning Chen nodded, then began practicing silently. He did not ask why, nor did he ask what the result would be.

The mountain roads were far more difficult than everyone had imagined. The wedding convoy carried too many things, making the carriages hard to move. Yet they could not do without the carriages, so their pace slowed. A journey that should have taken one day still had not ended after three.

Over those three days, Ning Chen learned no techniques, but he learned to swing and thrust...