Battle and Spar

"Brothers, who's going in first?" Zuo Mingkun asked.

"We all get a turn anyway, so it doesn't really matter who goes first or last," Chu Xinming said. "How about we go by age? Whoever is youngest goes first, how about that?"

"Works for me." The others nodded one after another, and Feng Qingmo had no objections. Everyone reported their ages, and Feng Qingmo was ranked third.

Zheng Hu was the youngest, so he went first, followed by Guo Hui.

After Zheng Hu went inside, the others stopped chatting and found their own spots to begin cultivating.

The soundproofing of that room was excellent; none of them could hear the movements inside. Although Feng Qingmo could use his spiritual energy to probe, he certainly wouldn't be bored enough to peek.

Half an hour later, Zheng Hu walked out of the room drenched in sweat, and then Guo Hui went in. Half an hour later, she emerged just as drenched.

Feng Qingmo stopped his sword practice and walked inside.

The room was nearly twenty meters in length and width, and Guan Chenglong was standing in the center holding a sword.

"I've read your file. You practice the Wind-Washing Sword, and judging by your performance earlier, you've already mastered the first level, haven't you?"

"Yes, Teacher Guan."

"Good. As it happens, I have also practiced the Wind-Washing Sword. Come, attack me. I will maintain a physical fitness level similar to yours, and we shall talk as we spar!"

Feng Qingmo nodded, bowed slightly, and then lunged forward with his sword, using the force-generating technique of the first level without reservation on the very first strike.

"Not bad." Guan Chenglong nodded slightly, his longsword shifting to deflect Feng Qingmo's blade, before he slashed diagonally.

Feng Qingmo's sword was led astray, and he tried to pull it back to defend, but even though their blades had separated, a strange force remained on his own sword, causing him to be a beat slow in his recovery.

Guan Chenglong's sword stopped right at his throat.

"Although your foundation is solid, and your swordplay and footwork have reached the levels of specialization and subtlety," Guan Chenglong shook his head, "it is clear that you lack practical combat experience. You don't know how to adapt when facing an enemy... You've always practiced alone, haven't you?"

"Yes," Feng Qingmo said, somewhat shocked. The force Guan Chenglong had used was even less than his own, yet he had managed to deflect his full-strength lunge with a single strike and leave him unable to recover in time.

"Before this, apart from teaching me basic sword techniques, my father rarely sparred with me. My only real combat experience was during the martial artist practical assessment..."

"That explains it," Guan Chenglong nodded. "Your foundation is good, and practical experience can be accumulated. As long as you clear the Trial Tower a few more times and gain some experience in the wilderness zones, your skills will improve quickly..."

He held up his Slender Willow Sword: "Continue!"

Feng Qingmo unleashed his sword techniques, coordinating them with his footwork as he attacked Guan Chenglong.

Guan Chenglong initially focused purely on defense, allowing Feng Qingmo to attack with full force without any reservations.

After defending for a few minutes, Guan Chenglong's sword style shifted. He was no longer just defending, but began incorporating counterattacks into his defense, forcing Feng Qingmo to use even swifter footwork to maintain a stalemate.

Ten minutes later, Guan Chenglong's sword momentum changed again, and he began to increase the pressure, attacking Feng Qingmo with one strike after another. Suddenly, Feng Qingmo was under immense pressure, struggling just to keep up.

Half an hour later, with a soft "clang," the sword in Feng Qingmo's hand was twisted out of his grip and fell to the ground. Guan Chenglong's sword tip stopped an inch from his throat.

"Alright, that's enough for today. Go out and reflect on the last half hour of combat, then cultivate your genetic energy. Go!"

"Thank you, Teacher Guan!" Feng Qingmo bowed slightly and offered his thanks. This half-hour of combat had placed him under unprecedented pressure, but the gains were equally immense.

During his previous martial artist practical assessment, with his physical fitness then approaching that of a high-level warrior, he had naturally felt no pressure at all, especially with his spiritual energy as a fallback.

During this past half hour, he had only used his spiritual energy to assist with sensing, and at most, he had used it defensively around the opponent's blade only when Guan Chenglong's sword was pointed at his throat; he hadn't used it to assist his own swordplay.

He picked up his sword and pushed the door open. The next student was already waiting impatiently by the door, and seeing him drenched in sweat with slightly unsteady steps, the student couldn't help but chuckle twice.

Feng Qingmo found a corner and sat cross-legged, repeatedly replaying the spar in his mind. Details he hadn't noticed at the time now became clear upon reflection, leading to several new insights.

After resting for a while, he began to cultivate his genetic energy.

The seven of them took over three hours in total, each taking turns going in to be "tortured," though it was clear that everyone had gained a great deal.

"That's all for the morning. Gather here again at two o'clock in the afternoon." After the last student, Li Canyang, finished cultivating his genetic energy, Guan Chenglong was the first to leave.

"Let's go, brothers," Zuo Mingkun clapped his hands and said. "Let's go get something to eat..."

The seven of them went together to the student cafeteria next to the central building for a hearty meal before returning to their respective residences, where they chose whether to continue cultivating or to rest.

After practicing for another hour in the underground training room, Feng Qingmo arrived at the central building just before two o'clock.

Once all seven had arrived, Guan Chenglong walked in.

"This morning I sparred with you, but this afternoon will be for sparring among yourselves," Guan Chenglong looked at them. "I am only one person and can only watch one pair at a time. How about this: we'll use a gauntlet format. Two people will step out to spar, and the winner will continue to face the next person..."

"Sounds great!" Zuo Mingkun became excited, looking at the others. "Brothers, whoever has the highest win rate will be the senior brother among us..."

Guan Chenglong shot him a glance, though he didn't scold him. "Since you're so eager, you go first... Feng Qingmo, you spar with him!"

"Yes."

The two walked to the center and took their stances.

"Begin..."

As soon as Guan Chenglong's voice fell, Zuo Mingkun slid forward, his longsword sweeping diagonally toward Feng Qingmo's left shoulder.

Zuo Mingkun's physical fitness was just above that of an intermediate warrior, and this strike was reasonably swift.

Feng Qingmo swung his sword to deflect, immediately knocking Zuo Mingkun's blade aside. His sword vibrated slightly, a burst of force flicking Zuo Mingkun's weapon away, and with a follow-up swing, his blade stopped at the throat of the now wide-open Zuo Mingkun.

Guan Chenglong couldn't help but nod slightly. This was a replica of his own first strike from their spar that morning; it was clear that Feng Qingmo had already grasped that technique of applying force.

"This..." Zuo Mingkun was left dumbfounded.

"I concede." Feng Qingmo retracted his Slender Willow Sword and offered a smile to Zuo Mingkun.

"Come here," Guan Chenglong beckoned to him, "do you understand where you lost?"

Zuo Mingkun shook his head, looking somewhat bewildered.

"If you can't figure it out, stand here and watch closely until you do! Next, Chu Mingxin."

Having learned from Zuo Mingkun's lesson, Chu Mingxin did not dare to attack immediately, instead adopting a defensive stance. Feng Qingmo pushed off the ground and thrust his sword forward.

Chu Mingxin swung his blade to parry, but the body of Feng Qingmo's sword vibrated, eerily bypassing his defensive strike and stopping with a whoosh an inch before his brow.

Staring at the sword tip hovering before his forehead, cold sweat broke out on Chu Mingxin, and he hurriedly retreated two steps.

"Come stand over here. Next, Guo Hui."