Unlike the subtle changes in his attributes, once Zhao Cheng crossed the psychological barrier, his temperament—or rather, the aura he gave off when wielding his sword—changed dramatically all at once.
The difference was like going from being overly cautious to gradually loosening up and letting go.
This was no longer a matter of whether his mind was calm. It was a matter of his personal swordsmanship style.
The same swordsmanship took on completely different styles in different hands.
The steadying effect of the Breathing Visualization Method could only keep someone from making mistakes and allow them to bring their combat strength into play in a decent, by-the-book manner. But a powerful will of one's own could give rise to a swordsmanship style that let someone surpass their limits—even face death and fight their way back to life in a desperate situation.
When a sword gained "emotion," it came alive.
Zhao Cheng didn't really understand this sort of thing, but now, it was exactly what he was doing.
As he loosened up, as the shackles in his heart shattered, as he grew accustomed to combat, his body instinctively trembled when danger struck. Yet deep in his heart, a strange thrill welled up.
Fear, dread, weakness—these were all part of him, but they weren't all he was. There was something else in his heart, something that had long been obscured and buried by worldly concerns. Only now had it finally awakened.
He had been born yearning for strength—or rather, yearning to grow stronger!
Anything that could make him stronger was something he pursued.
That was why he had trained so hard in swordsmanship before. But swordsmanship wasn't the only thing that could make him stronger.
Besides swordsmanship, there was combat!
Swordsmanship could temper the body and mind, while combat could temper the heart and will.
Fight! Battle! Win!
Only when a powerful level of existence was supported by the heart and will was it more than an empty shell. Only then could it truly be called "alive."
The moment a person gave up on themselves, they were already dead.
"The ultimate of swordsmanship is self-expression."
"I've forgotten who said that, but I think I've caught a glimpse of myself in it!"
A voice rang out over the clear lake of Zhao Cheng's heart, but it did not disturb its stillness. Only the longsword gained a trace of crimson that had never been there before.
It was like the hot blood in his heart, and like boundless battle intent.
That was Zhao Cheng's own voice.
Through swordsmanship, he had indeed glimpsed a bit of his true self.
Not the him from his previous life, drifting along after graduation, busy every day scraping together a living, accomplishing nothing, and with no idea what he wanted.
Nor even the him in this life, who had started striving after his memories awoke, worked hard at learning the sword, and kept saying he wanted to grow stronger without knowing why.
His true self had yearned for strength from birth. He needed no reason; there was no "why." He was simply himself!
By the time the voice rang out, Zhao Cheng had already retreated six steps, looking somewhat bedraggled, while the Gray Man had lunged after him for six consecutive steps, its bloodlust on full display.
Under the Breathing Visualization Method's effects, Zhao Cheng remained calm. Yet within that calm, another emotion had emerged—one that did not disturb it: battle intent.
His heart yearned to fight, to surpass himself!
Clang!
Zhao Cheng swung his sword. The blade hadn't grown faster with his change of heart, nor had its force grown stronger.
But anyone watching now could clearly feel that this sword path was different from before.
Log: The golden lock was thrown wide, revealing the self. Spirit +0.2. Swordsmanship epiphany. Special effect activated: Battle Blood, First Layer.
(Note: This wasn't the result of long preparation finally paying off, nor was it good luck. It was a qualitative change brought about by accumulated swordsmanship talent. How easily could an ordinary person reach true enlightenment? What? Even a Sword Arts Prodigy couldn't do that? Do you think I'd tell you that I'm even more of a prodigy than a prodigy?!)
Clang! Clang! Clang!
After three more exchanges, Zhao Cheng gradually found the rhythm and stopped retreating.
When the emotions in one's heart were expressed through swordsmanship, what emerged was a sword with a spirit of its own.
How great was the difference between someone with battle intent and someone without it?!
Zhao Cheng no longer tried to defend himself without leaving a gap, nor did he carefully protect himself to avoid injury. Instead, he boldly met his opponent head-on, using offense in place of defense.
And that was exactly what swordsmanship was!
A thing born to defend was a shield.
A sword was born to attack, born to kill!
A fist shot toward Zhao Cheng's head, its wind rushing against his face with a loud whoosh.
At the same time, Zhao Cheng's sword slashed toward the Gray Man's neck.
Before, Zhao Cheng would never have shown such courage. But now that he had crossed the psychological barrier, he could.
Which was faster—the sword or the fist?
The answer came at once.
The Gray Man changed its move, raising its arm to block the blade. The sword cut a deep gash into it.
But inside the wound there was no flesh or bone, only a gray fluid. Droplets seeped through the split, turning into gray specks of light that vanished into the air.
The Gray Man knew enough to change its move. From that, Zhao Cheng also judged that its combat instincts weren't those of a killing machine that would do anything to achieve its goal. It was more like a living martial arts expert.
It protected itself even as it attacked!
That was undoubtedly a good thing. Otherwise, this would have been far too difficult.
At the same time, apart from its hands, the Gray Man's other body parts weren't as hard as steel.
And its unusual body structure made Zhao Cheng wonder: did he have to behead it to kill it?
Or did it have a core somewhere on its body, and would destroying that core be enough to kill it?
Clang!
With another swing of his sword, Zhao Cheng keenly sensed that the Gray Man seemed to have grown a little weaker.
"Hm?!"
"Can I bleed it dry?!"
Three minutes later, Zhao Cheng plopped down onto the ground.
By then, his left shoulder had caved in, and his arm had been broken into several pieces.
In front of him lay a tall gray body, its torso and arms crisscrossed with sword cuts. There were well over a dozen of them.
Its fatal wound, however, was its neck. Its head had been chopped off.
Zhao Cheng had hacked at its neck four times before severing it. His left shoulder had caved in during that exchange; unexpected turns in a fight were inevitable.
If he hadn't drained so much blood from the Gray Man, that single punch might have cost him most of his combat strength. Internal bleeding was no joke, after all.
But the situation at the time hadn't allowed him to keep bleeding it dry. High-intensity combat consumed tremendous amounts of mental and physical energy. If the fight dragged on, he wouldn't be able to sustain the Breathing Visualization Method. His abilities across the board would then plummet, and the roles would be reversed.
The Gray Man would have taught him what cruelty meant.
But once it lost its head, the Gray Man stopped moving.
Its large body dispersed first, while its head was the last to vanish.
As it did, Zhao Cheng confirmed his earlier suspicion: the Grunt in front of him really did have a core, and it was inside its head.
The last thing to disappear was the Gray-Red Light Orb inside the head.
Log: Defeated Grunt x1. First-kill Simulation Point +5. Basic Simulation Point +1. White Treasure Chest x1. Monster Bestiary activated. Monster Card collected.
Void's evolution progress +0.1%