Back then, one of Grand Ancestor Li Kaiyuan's great generals had followed the path of seeking the Dao through killing.
In the early days, while pacifying the country, he had been ruthless in his slaughter, wielding an invincible iron sword. One man, one sword—he was like an Asura descended upon the world.
But later, after the country had been pacified, he switched from a military post to a civil one. He no longer charged into battle with his sword, and grew ever more amiable.
Only those who understood the sword knew that the old demon had become a Buddha. Sure enough, on the Central European battlefield, he had subdued Berlin with three sword strikes and nearly cut down the Führer—who was known as both Buddha and demon—on the spot.
But that battle had also brought the Central European battlefield to an end.
That was the power of seeking the Dao through killing!
Of course, that was a successful example. As for those who had failed and died along the way, there were surely hundreds or thousands of times more of them than successful ones. But people naturally only looked at the successful examples. Who would remember the failures?!
"A seed of slaughter? Director Shi, could you mean..."
A teacher spoke up, sounding as though he had guessed what Director Shi meant.
There were two kinds of people who followed the path of seeking the Dao through killing. One kind had endured countless battles and forged a murderous heart that way. The other was born with a murderous heart, only for it to be obscured by the routines of daily life. Once it awakened, they became lawless madmen.
When they weren't fighting, they might still be amiable and gentle. But once they did fight, they were utterly vicious, with a shocking thirst for blood.
In a sense, the latter kind also possessed a special talent. But apart from those born with it, most people forged this talent through countless battles later in life.
Throughout history, among the experts who had mastered the path of seeking the Dao through killing, there had been both kinds.
Strictly speaking, the latter kind only had an advantage in the early stages. Once one had forged a murderous heart through a hundred battles, there was little difference between the two.
And if one really thought about it, possessing this talent wasn't necessarily a good thing. Ordinary people wouldn't follow the path of seeking the Dao through killing unless they deliberately set out to forge a murderous heart.
But those with this talent were bound to follow that path.
No one could resist the exhilaration that came from surpassing oneself on the brink between life and death!
Compared with that exhilaration, everyday life was simply too bland and tasteless.
Only after "going too far and breaking" could one understand that what people called "the simple life is what's truly good."
"That's right. A Sword Ghost!"
"When he holds a sword, he's utterly vicious—even more wicked than a demon. That's why he belongs to the path of ghosts. Once you enter that path, there's no turning back. Survive a hundred battles, and your murderous heart is tempered; survive a thousand, and you become an Asura."
"The desire in his heart will drive him to keep fighting and winning, to challenge ever-stronger opponents!"
"If this were a time of war, someone like him would either die young or sweep the world with his sword. But unfortunately, this is an era of peace, and a talent like his can only be buried."
"In an era of peace, at most you can compete in matches. You can't see blood, you can't kill, and you can't temper your murderous heart. There's no way to achieve the Asura Path."
"Before he comprehends the Dao, even his innate nature for killing will be worn away by an ordinary, uneventful life rather than nourished."
Director Shi said with a smiling face.
"But who can say that losing a horse isn't a blessing?"
"Living longer and experiencing the beauty of life might not be inferior to sweeping the world with a sword."
"An ordinary life has its own ordinary happiness."
Director Shi's words amounted to a prediction of his fate.
The life trajectory of an ordinary person wasn't complicated. For most, you could see their life at a hundred by the time they were ten.
At his words, the teachers fell silent.
A golden carp trapped in a lake might never become a dragon, but at least it wouldn't die a violent death. In the vast ocean, there might be tremendous opportunities, but a great wave could swallow you at any moment.
Whether fortune or misfortune, it was hard to say.
Because of this conversation, many teachers turned their eyes toward Zhao Cheng. They not only remembered him, but were left with a deep impression.
The land of Yanhuang was vast beyond measure, with a population now reaching two hundred billion. What kind of talent could it not produce?!
Sword Ghosts were actually not rare.
But that was across all of Yanhuang. In a small place like Xiangnan, and an even smaller Qingyuan Middle School, someone like that was a rare find.
"Indeed, an ordinary life has its own ordinary happiness."
After a long while, Zhao Yue murmured softly, as if talking to herself. Only the shifting light in her eyes revealed how unsettled she felt.
At the edge of the arena, a young man held a sword, dressed in white as pure as snow.
This scene seemed familiar, as though she had seen it somewhere before. But when she thought about it carefully, even the memory itself seemed blurred.
Zhao Cheng, however, was completely unaware of what they had said. Not only had he failed to hear them, but neither had the students standing relatively close to the teachers.
The second match was already underway. As for the first, it had ended in little more than twenty exchanges, quick as a hare darting from its burrow or a falcon swooping down.
In swordsmanship contests, when the fighters were highly skilled, it was possible for two experts to exchange hundreds of blows without a winner.
But when it came to low-level novices trading blows, even evenly matched fighters decided the outcome very quickly.
A little over twenty exchanges was about average. If there was even a modest gap in ability, the winner could be decided in fewer than ten.
The sword was made for killing. That was no exaggeration.
Even when they were merely sparring rather than fighting to the death, and both kept their swordplay fairly cautious, a sword was still no shield.
Although Zhao Cheng felt their swordplay lacked ruthlessness, he still watched with great interest.
They were all practicing the same sword art, but the same sword could take a hundred forms in a hundred hands. Each person had their own understanding, even though their swordsmanship levels were all far below Zhao Cheng's.
But a higher swordsmanship level didn't mean Zhao Cheng could puzzle out every subtle variation on his own.
Their swordplay might have been "soft," but that didn't mean there was nothing worth learning from it. Their approach, for example.
In a sense, swordsmanship was a little like esports in his previous life: low-level matches were about reflexes, while high-level matches were about strategy.
When Zhao Cheng used to spar with his classmates, it came down to speed and strength. Whoever was faster and stronger won.
But the students in the Kendo Class each had their own "approach." You might not notice it in a single move or exchange, but after watching a whole match, you could see how effective their approach was.
With the same speed and strength, and the same level of swordsmanship, the difference between having an approach and not having one might not show in three or five exchanges. But once they passed ten, the one without an approach would fall behind—and defeat wouldn't be far off.
That was the difference in combat awareness.
Zhao Cheng was self-taught, having honed his "approach" in actual combat. But that didn't mean he couldn't learn both.
Clearly, combat awareness could also be systematically cultivated.
The instructor hadn't taught this kind of material before for two reasons. First, it was fairly advanced and required at least Swordsmanship lv4, the proficient level.
You had to learn to walk before you could run.
Second, practical combat instruction clearly didn't suit a large class. It had to be taught in small groups to give everyone thorough guidance.
The Sword Trial moved quickly. Usually, from the moment two people chose their opponents to putting on their protective gear, settling the match, stepping down, and letting the next pair take their place, the whole process took about a minute.
The fast matches took less than a minute; the slow ones took just over one. None lasted more than two minutes.
Whatever else one could say, the atmosphere of this scene was excellent.