Opponent after opponent took the stage, and every fight taught Chen Chong something.
The glowing patterns on the Cloud Que Platform shifted in turn: fierce tiger, goshawk, giant python, iron ape. Each time a beast's image lit up, a pair of contestants stepped onto the platform. Chen Chong stood below, his gaze following the flashes of blades and swords.
He gradually began to see the trick of it. Back in Dingshan County, fighting had been a matter of who was stronger and whose blade was faster. Whoever had the higher cultivation won. But here, it was different.
A Sword Cultivator at the Bone-Forging Stage faced a saber wielder. Rather than crushing his opponent with brute force, the Sword Cultivator led him step by step into his own rhythm. When the saber wielder advanced, he retreated; when the saber wielder retreated, he advanced. Within three moves, the saber wielder's breathing faltered and his footwork fell apart. The Sword Cultivator brought his blade to his throat and stopped.
Another contestant wielded twin hooks against an opponent with a short staff. The hooks struck from treacherous angles, while the staff carried heavy, fierce force.
But the hook wielder controlled the distance throughout, never letting his opponent bring that strength to bear. The staff wielder grew more frustrated with every exchange until he was driven to the edge of the platform and fell off on his own.
These fights opened Chen Chong's eyes. Back in Dingyuan County, fighting had generally come down to who was stronger. But in the sects, far more emphasis was placed on controlling the rhythm of a battle.
When to move fast, when to slow down, when to seize the attack, when to fall back and defend. Blade technique was only the foundation; rhythm was the soul.
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