Seven Waves-Breaking Slashes

A moment later.

Meng Yue was black-and-blue and weak all over as someone helped him away to apply medicine.

"Using the stance work and some techniques from the guiding art, my strength and speed have both improved quite a bit. It seems that even taking on three at once wouldn't pose any threat to me."

I'm too steady!

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

The training ground had fallen silent. The apprentices stood as quiet as cicadas in winter, scarcely daring to breathe, and their gazes toward Hong Yuan were filled with awe.

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

Clearly, Hong Yuan's swift and clean defeat of Meng Yue and the other two had intimidated all the remaining apprentices.

"Sure enough, the best way to establish authority somewhere is to make an example of someone. Beat up the troublemaker, and things become much more peaceful. Does that mean I killed the chicken... no! Killed the monkey to frighten the chickens?"

Hong Yuan still wore a smile.

But at this point, none of the apprentices thought him amiable anymore. Some secretly grew wary, regarding him as a ruthless smiling tiger.

"Don't just stand around. Fellow disciples sparring and competing—it's normal for things to get a little rough."

Hong Yuan waved a hand, casually brushing the matter aside. Smiling, he said, "Carry on with your training. I'll be in the rear courtyard. If there's anything you don't understand, come ask me."

"Yes, Senior Brother!"

The apprentices let out a breath of relief. Though their reply was not entirely in unison, their cry of "Senior Brother" came much more smoothly this time.

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

Yang Lie caught up with him in a few strides and walked alongside him. Grinning, he raised a thumb and 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."

Hm?!

Hong Yuan was somewhat surprised. Hadn't the customary gift upon joining already been given this morning?

Wu Duxiong had insisted on sparring with him. Though Wu Duxiong had not drawn his blade or used any True Force techniques, his vicious skills, honed through many years in the army, had still left Hong Yuan in a sorry state.

Suppressing his doubts, Hong Yuan asked, "Brother Yang is leaving? Where are you headed?"

"I've always had the temperament of a wandering hero and never liked staying in one place for too long. Uncle Wu also thinks I've been slack in my martial training, so he's taking me out to gain some experience. As for where exactly we're going? Haha, we'll go wherever our feet take us. The rivers and lakes are vast—where is not home?"

Yang Lie laughed heartily, looking utterly free and open-minded.

"Brother Yang truly is a great hero!"

A single letter, then a journey of a thousand li to honor an appointment; risking his life to break into a "demon's den," then brushing off his sleeves and leaving once it was done—this was the bearing of a true wandering hero. Hong Yuan secretly admired him.

If no one wrote about and celebrated him, otherwise he could have entered the Biographies of Wandering Heroes.

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

Wu Duxiong stood in the center of the grounds, the Fish-Scale Blade held in his arms, his eyes closed as he focused his mind.

Hearing footsteps, Wu Duxiong abruptly opened his eyes, their sharpness seeming almost to shine.

He looked at Hong Yuan and said flatly, "Boy Hong, I tested your skills this morning. I'm leaving today, and I have no gift worth mentioning. I only have a blade technique that combines our school's methods with military combat techniques. It is barely passable, so I'll teach it to you!"

With a low clang, Wu Duxiong drew his blade. He casually flung away the scabbard, and it plunged halfway into the sandy ground nearby.

The Fish-Scale Blade in Wu Duxiong's hand gleamed with a cold, ghostly light beneath the warm autumn sun, like a green fish swimming beneath an icy jade pool. His fingers stroked the spine of the blade. "Linjiang Prefecture has countless waterways, while slaughter in military formations is like waves sweeping in, one after another without end. Thus, this blade technique of mine is called Seven Waves-Breaking Slashes. Watch carefully!"

As he spoke, Wu Duxiong let out a fierce roar. A single word burst from his throat: "Kill!" His tone rang out with the clang of metal.

His gaze suddenly turned cold and merciless, killing intent boiling across his face. His body moved in an instant, and a simple, unadorned opening slash appeared before Hong Yuan's eyes.

The blade tore through the air. Its fierce, rapid force violently ripped against the atmosphere, raising a sudden howl of wind. With one chopping strike, it surged forth like a rainbow, like a bolt of vicious lightning.

Before the momentum could fade, Wu Duxiong twisted his wrist and gripped the hilt with both hands. The blade swept sideways, a bolt of icy light rolling through the air as though it would cut every obstacle before it cleanly in two at the waist.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Wu Duxiong's stance was steady. His footwork mostly consisted of advancing steps and shuffling lunges. Every step that struck the ground sounded like a drumbeat, a signal of attack. The "drumbeats" echoed in concert with the blade in his hand, while killing intent whistled back and forth.

Even as he demonstrated the blade technique, he rapidly explained its key points.

This blade style did not contain many variations. After all, military combat allowed no room for too many flashy tricks. Its movements were broad and forceful, every strike seeming to gather the strength of the entire body. It primarily relied on chops and slashes to press the attack, using offense in place of defense. Every stroke claimed a life!

"In battlefield slaughter, you must never be shackled by set forms. Use whichever move works best. A blade technique that can kill is the best blade technique!"

The seven blade forms were completed in the blink of an eye. Then the blade light suddenly turned, giving rise to further changes. Wu Duxiong disrupted the order of the seven slashes and wielded the blade at will.

The Fish-Scale Blade danced in his hand as though it had become an extension of his arm, inseparable from him.

Yang Lie's eyes shone. He formed a blade with his hand and kept mimicking the movements.

The forms of Seven Waves-Breaking Slashes were concise and refined. Hong Yuan had memorized them all after seeing them once. By the time Wu Duxiong began demonstrating them out of sequence, he was already studying the other man's force-generation techniques, advancing and retreating footwork, and transitions in blade momentum. Not a single crucial point escaped his watchful eyes.

With a swish, the long blade sliced through the air as if cleaving clear waves. Wu Duxiong's blade momentum came to an abrupt halt. Neither hurried nor out of breath, he stared at Hong Yuan with bright eyes. "How much did you remember?"

"I remembered it all!"

"Good!" Wu Duxiong nodded.

He possessed a soldier's decisiveness in killing. Since Hong Yuan said he had remembered it, Wu Duxiong did not question him, nor did he ask Hong Yuan to demonstrate it once. He simply retrieved the scabbard.

With a clang, he sheathed the blade!

"Junior Brother..." Yang Erhu coughed twice at this moment. His gaze fell on Wu Duxiong, and he seemed to want to say something but stopped himself.

"Enough, don't say any more!" Wu Duxiong waved a hand to cut him off. The killing intent vanished from his face. He patted the scabbard, taking on a carefree, unruly air. "I've muddled about in the army for years. Now that I've finally gotten out, I'm going to see this splendid world of the rivers and lakes. I don't want to stay here and work for you, Old Yang, for nothing..."

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

"Now!"

Wu Duxiong acted decisively. When he said he was leaving, he left at once, without the slightest dragging of feet.

He carried no bundles or extra clothes. With only one set of garments, one blade, and a little silver tucked into his bosom, he set off.

In his words, heaven would be his quilt and earth his mat. If a man with his abilities could not even keep three meals a day on the table, then he deserved to starve to death rather than live on in shame and become a laughingstock.

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