Seven Waves-Breaking Slashes

A short while later.

Meng Yue, his face bruised and swollen and his whole body limp, was helped away to have ointment applied.

Using some techniques from stance training and the guiding exercises improved my strength and speed considerably. It seemed that even three against one, all attacking together, posed no threat to me.

I was far too cautious!

Hong Yuan pondered silently, his gaze shifting to Meng Yue's retreating back. Still, Meng Yue seemed to have held something back when he fought me...

The training ground had fallen silent. The apprentices were as mute as cicadas in winter, not daring even to breathe loudly, and their eyes held awe when they looked at Hong Yuan.

Whenever Hong Yuan looked back, the apprentices either averted their eyes or lowered their heads, not daring to meet his gaze.

Clearly, Hong Yuan's swift, clean defeat of Meng Yue and his two companions had cowed the remaining apprentices.

Sure enough, the best way to establish authority somewhere was to make a show of force. Beat down the troublemakers, and things became much more peaceful. Did this count as killing a chicken... no! Killing a monkey to warn the chickens?

Hong Yuan still wore a smile.

But none of the apprentices on the training ground thought him warm and approachable anymore. Some had even grown secretly wary, regarding him as a ruthless smiling tiger.

"Don't just stand there. When fellow disciples spar and test their skills, a little roughness is perfectly normal."

Hong Yuan waved a hand, brushing the matter aside, and smiled. "Keep practicing, everyone. I'll be in the rear courtyard. If there's anything you don't understand, come and ask me."

"Yes, senior brother!"

The apprentices breathed sighs of relief. Though their replies were not quite in unison, the words "senior brother" came much more readily now.

Hong Yuan crossed the training ground and headed straight for the rear courtyard.

Yang Lie caught up in a few long strides and walked beside Hong Yuan, grinning as he gave him a thumbs-up. Then he said, "Brother Hong, Uncle Wu and I are planning to leave the Martial Arts Hall. Before we go, Uncle Wu wants to give you a gift."

Hmm?!

Hong Yuan was a little surprised. Hadn't he already received his so-called initiation "welcome gift" that morning?

Wu Duxiong had dragged him into a sparring match and insisted on fighting. Although Wu Duxiong had neither drawn his blade nor used any True Force techniques, his vicious skills, honed over years in the army, had still left Hong Yuan looking thoroughly bedraggled.

Setting his puzzlement aside, Hong Yuan asked, "You're leaving, Brother Yang? Where are you headed?"

"I've always had a wandering knight's temperament. I never liked staying in one place too long, and Uncle Wu thinks I've been slacking in my training, so he's taking me out to gain some experience. As for where exactly we're going? Haha, wherever our feet take us! The martial world is vast. Where isn't home?"

Yang Lie laughed heartily, looking utterly carefree.

"Brother Yang, you truly are a hero!"

A single letter had brought him a thousand miles to honor a promise. He had risked his life to break into a "demon's den," then brushed off his robes and departed once the deed was done. This was the bearing of a true knight-errant, and Hong Yuan admired him inwardly.

Only the lack of anyone to record and spread his deeds kept him from earning a place in the "Biographies of Wandering Knights."

On the training ground in the rear courtyard, Yang Erhu stood on the steps, holding a cup of hot tea, his expression calm.

Wu Duxiong stood in the middle of the grounds with the Fish-Scale Blade cradled in his arms, his eyes closed in concentration.

At the sound of footsteps, Wu Duxiong abruptly opened his eyes, their sharpness almost seeming to shine.

He looked at Hong Yuan and said evenly, "Young Hong, I tested your skills this morning. Now that I'm leaving, I don't have much to give you. I only have a blade technique that combines our school's methods with military fighting styles. It's passable enough, so I'll teach it to you!"

With a low metallic clang, Wu Duxiong drew his blade and casually tossed the scabbard aside, driving it halfway into the sandy ground nearby.

Despite the warm autumn sun, the Fish-Scale Blade in Wu Duxiong's hand gleamed with a cold, eerie light, like a blue-green fish swimming beneath the clear waters of a chilly pool. He ran his fingers along its spine. "Linjiang Prefecture is crisscrossed with waterways, and fighting in military formations is much like waves sweeping in, one after another without end. That's why I named this technique Seven Waves-Breaking Slashes. Watch closely!"

As he spoke, Wu Duxiong let out a thunderous roar, the word "Kill!" bursting from his throat with a ringing tone like metal striking metal.

His eyes abruptly turned cold and merciless, and killing intent surged across his face. His body suddenly moved, and a plain, unadorned opening stroke appeared before Hong Yuan's eyes.

The edge cleaved through the air, its fierce, swift momentum tearing violently against it. A rushing howl of wind arose as the blade hacked down, its force surging like a rainbow across the sky, like a savage bolt of lightning.

Before its momentum faded, Wu Duxiong turned his wrists and gripped the hilt with both hands. The blade swept horizontally, a ribbon of cold light unfurling through the air as though it would sever every obstacle before him at the waist.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Wu Duxiong held his body steady, his footwork consisting mostly of forward steps and shuffling advances. Every footfall sounded like a beating drum, a signal to attack. Those "drumbeats" answered the blade in his hands, while an aura of slaughter howled back and forth.

As he demonstrated the blade technique, he rapidly explained its key principles.

His blade technique had few variations. After all, fighting in the army left little room for fancy tricks. Its movements were broad and sweeping, every strike seeming to gather the strength of his entire body. Most were downward hacks and pursuing slashes, using offense in place of defense, every stroke aimed to take a life!

"In battle, you must never be bound by prescribed moves. Use whichever move works. A blade technique that kills is the best blade technique!"

The seven moves were exhausted in the blink of an eye, then the blade's light abruptly turned, giving rise to fresh variations. Wu Duxiong scrambled the order of the seven slashes, wielding his blade freely.

The Fish-Scale Blade danced in his hands, seeming to become an extension of his arms, with no distinction between them.

Yang Lie watched with shining eyes, using his hand as a blade and repeatedly tracing the movements.

The moves of Seven Waves-Breaking Slashes were concise and refined. Hong Yuan memorized them all after watching just once. By the time Wu Duxiong demonstrated them out of sequence, he had already begun studying how the man generated force, advanced and retreated, and shifted the blade's momentum. Not a single crucial detail escaped his scrutiny.

With a swish, the long blade sliced through the air as though parting clear waves. Wu Duxiong's blade abruptly stopped. Neither hurried nor breathless, he fixed his bright eyes on Hong Yuan. "How much did you remember?"

"All of it!"

"Good!" Wu Duxiong nodded.

He possessed a soldier's ruthless decisiveness. Since Hong Yuan said he remembered it, he did not question him or even ask him to demonstrate it. He simply retrieved his scabbard.

With a clang, he sheathed the blade!

"Junior brother..." Yang Erhu coughed twice, his gaze settling on Wu Duxiong, and hesitated.

"All right, don't say it!" Wu Duxiong waved a hand to cut him off. All the killing intent had vanished from his face, and he patted his scabbard, taking on an air of shameless nonchalance. "I spent years knocking around in the army. Now that I've finally gotten out, I mean to have a look at this colorful martial world. I'm not staying here to work for free for you, old Yang..."

Knowing that Wu Duxiong had made up his mind, Yang Erhu sighed. "All right. When are you leaving, then?"

"Now!"

Wu Duxiong acted decisively. Once he said he was leaving, he left, without the slightest dithering.

He took no bundle or spare clothing, setting out with only the clothes on his back, his blade, and a little silver tucked inside his robe.

In his words, the sky was his blanket and the earth his mat. If a man of his ability ended up unable to feed himself, he deserved to starve to death rather than make a disgraceful spectacle of himself and give others something to laugh at.

"Uncle, Brother Hong, until we meet again!" Yang Lie, too, carried only a steel saber. At the entrance to the Yang Family Martial Arts Hall, he waved to the two men with his back turned, then followed closely after Wu Duxiong.