Interesting.
Li Xiang met Xiang Tiange's gaze. Rather than look at his expressionless face, he fixed his eyes on the hand gripping the sword, on the gray-white Intent that lingered there, condensed yet almost imperceptible.
The instant Xiang Tiange had thrust his sword, Li Xiang had felt a faint resonance. It was an aura from the same source, a principle of the sword that transcended the physical form of iron and stone and pointed straight to the Great Dao's origin.
He knew all too well what this sword art, which led straight to the Great Dao, meant.
This was no worldly martial art whose threshold could be reached through diligent practice and training through the bitterest winter days. To learn this idealist Sword Dao, stripped of outward form, demanded monstrous comprehension and the indispensable favor of Fortune.
Otherwise, one had to be like Li Xiang: keep a Book of a Hundred Trades in his mind that ignored the difficulty of learning and use that cheat to push open the door to truth.
Xiang Tiange clearly had no such cheat. To grasp even the rudiments of the True Explanation of the Sword Dao well enough to use them in battle at his age took genuine ability.
"Junior brother."
Beside him, Qin Zhong leaned his burly frame forward slightly, cracking his thick knuckles.
He glared at Xiang Tiange on the Arena and lowered his voice, his tone carrying a ferocity ready to erupt at any moment. "That brat's provoking you. Want your senior brother to stand up and put him in his place?"
Qin Zhong was blunt. He did not understand lofty principles; he only knew that the Shocking Heron Martial Hall's reputation could not be trampled in public, nor could someone point a sword at his junior brother's nose.
If this