"Was this thing some kind of profound martial art?!"
In front of the Heavenly Phoenix Pavilion, Zhao Cheng carefully examined the stone stele before him. Ordinarily, the characters carved into stone should not have been so easy to corrode.
But in this world, everything seemed to decay far faster than usual.
The stele before him was no cheap stone. The Heavenly Phoenix Pavilion behind it made it clear that this place was no ordinary establishment.
How could the facade of such a place have been made of cheap materials?
And yet the writing on the stone had grown blurry.
Only the simplest character, "Heaven," could still just barely be made out. The two characters after it had been reduced to a few disconnected traces.
At that moment, most of Zhao Cheng's attention was on the patterns along the edge of the stele. The last time he passed through here, he had thought they were merely decorative.
Now he knew they were actually some kind of profound martial art.
The only problem was that the martial art had been damaged even worse than the three large characters.
Forget Zhao Cheng—even the person who had carved this martial art into the stele might not have been able to recognize what the drawings depicted if they had come back now.
Still, the scene before him confirmed his suspicions. The body he inhabited in the instance had a "field of vision" far beyond that of a human body. It could receive information from angles beyond the five human senses.
That was how Zhao Cheng had been able to "see" that this place had once recorded some kind of profound martial art.
As for the present, all he could say was that he had seen something unusual.
Even he couldn't make heads or tails of it. Even if he invited the experts who restored cultural relics at the Palace Museum in his previous life, they probably wouldn't have had a clue either.
After looking it over a few times without gaining anything, Zhao Cheng didn't dwell on it. He simply stepped into the Heavenly Phoenix Pavilion.
The wooden doors had weathered away until only a shell remained. Zhao Cheng barely exerted any force before the once-solid doors crumbled into countless pieces.
Judging by the layout of the Heavenly Phoenix Pavilion, this place must once have been famous.
Alas, the splendor of the past was swept away by wind and rain.
The once-grand residence had been buried beneath dust and earth. Only its outline remained, stripped of all its former magnificence.
Just inside the entrance stood a massive stone screen, its carved patterns blurred with age.
He walked around it, and a broad courtyard came into view.
Zhao Cheng scanned the area, but saw nothing unusual. There were no signs of anything moving across the ash-covered ground.
Still, he did not let his guard down. He was searching for the "Ripple" mentioned in the panel's prompt.
There was definitely something here!
So Zhao Cheng set his breathing technique in motion once more, his mind focused to the utmost.
Amid the utter silence, he listened closely—and truly did sense the faintest hint of movement.
The sound mingled with the wind and was almost indistinguishable from it. Without listening carefully, anyone would have dismissed it instinctively.
But Zhao Cheng managed to pick it out. It wasn't the wind. It was the sound of a fist cutting through the air.
From the sound alone, Zhao Cheng could tell that the owner of the fist had an exceptionally high level of skill.
Without hesitation, he composed himself and moved step by step toward the sound.
He passed through one arched doorway after another, until at last he reached an open space deep within the Heavenly Phoenix Pavilion.
Judging by the building's layout, Zhao Cheng could roughly guess that there had once been a house here. But it might have been made of wood, since it had rotted away completely.
Like the wide-open space before him, which might once have been a bright, spacious training ground.
Now, only a few ruined walls and a blanket of dust remained.
At the center of the open space, a gray figure was methodically throwing punches, one move at a time.
Zhao Cheng watched from the doorway. He did not practice boxing, but by applying what he knew to what he saw, he could tell that this style was no simple matter.
The gray figure was a gray man, about a meter ninety tall. Muscles bulged across his body like small hills, brimming with strength.
Yet his joints seemed "stiff," like those of a corpse.
Of course, "stiff" was relative. To an ordinary person, he would have been nimble enough. But his movements didn't match the boxing style he was performing.
Zhao Cheng didn't make a move. Instead, he watched from where he stood.
The gray man seemed not to have noticed Zhao Cheng either, and continued to practice the same boxing moves over and over.
In this bizarre world, the gray man before him merely had a human shape. Zhao Cheng was certain he wasn't human at all, but some kind of monster that had grown to look like one.
This grunt is pretty strong!
Zhao Cheng thought.
He didn't rush to attack. Instead, he kept watching, familiarizing himself with his opponent's movements and considering how he should wield his sword.
This was exactly what gamers called "learning the pattern"!
Judging by the "grunt's" demonstrated combat ability, Zhao Cheng wasn't entirely confident he could win.
Battle could change in an instant. There was no way to know if he could win without actually fighting. Combat ability couldn't be reduced to numbers, like saying, "My combat power is 20, yours is 19, so I'm guaranteed to win."
Unless it was 200 against 19. That would be a different story.
The gray figure's boxing style consisted of only eight moves, but each one had many variations.
Zhao Cheng counted carefully and found eight moves with forty-nine variations.
If the "grunt" before him didn't have stiff joints, Zhao Cheng would have turned around and left without a second thought. He'd grind up his swordsmanship level first, then come back.
But now, he had a chance—and a pretty good one.
The "grunt" before him had great strength, but wasn't very nimble. More importantly, it had given Zhao Cheng the chance to learn its moves.
So Zhao Cheng didn't hesitate. After watching a few more times, he followed the monster's movements, swinging his sword through the air as if he were sparring with an invisible opponent.
He practiced like that for more than ten minutes. Once he felt a little more confident, he decided to strike.
In! Out!
At the same time, a sword-shaped image appeared in the lake of his mind!
The breathing technique activated his body's potential, while the visualization technique activated his mental potential!
Only when both techniques worked in tandem was Zhao Cheng at his strongest.
In Zhao Cheng's perception, time seemed to slow down!
Time hadn't actually slowed; his reaction speed had increased.
At the same time, his body was more sensitive than ever. He could clearly feel the wind's path and cut through it with his sword, while also sensing the slightest shifts of force within his body.
With each breath, his sinews and bones shook in unison, instinctively gathering his scattered strength into one.
That was also the reason the breathing technique could increase his explosive power.
His perception even extended to the Void Kalpa Sword in his hand.
The sword breathed with his breathing, and its "heart" beat with his heartbeat!
Zhao Cheng approached at a measured pace, adjusting his state until his body, energy, and spirit gradually reached their peak.
When Zhao Cheng drew within five meters of the gray man, it was as though he had crossed some invisible line. Like a bolt of lightning being triggered, the gray man was startled. Without the slightest delay, he lunged at Zhao Cheng with murderous intent.
And as soon as the gray man moved, Zhao Cheng erupted like a thunderclap too. He stepped forward and swung his sword. Its light flashed as the blade tore through the air!