Everyone around them fell silent, not daring to make a sound.
Elder Gu was fiercely protective of his own and despised fellow disciples turning on one another. This fellow was probably in for trouble.
Chun Xiaobai scratched his head, looking entirely justified. "That was already my gentlest blade... no, sword technique!"
He wasn't lying.
The techniques he had learned at Black Wind Stronghold since childhood were all killing moves. During his years as Mountain King, he had fought no fewer than a thousand life-or-death battles, long since forging an instinct to strike fast, accurately, and ruthlessly.
Still, he had some confidence in his own control.
That last strike had looked like an attempt to cut his opponent in half, but it had actually been meant to restrict his movement as much as possible, denying him another chance to attack, rather than taking his life.
As long as his opponent hadn't overcommitted to his strike, it wouldn't actually have inflicted a fatal wound.
When sparring with his brothers at Black Wind Stronghold, he struck far harder than that.
Gu Changfeng's gaze shifted slightly.
Naturally, he could tell that Chun Xiaobai's strike, though vicious, had carried no killing intent.
Moreover, despite his own cultivation realm, he hadn't sensed any Spiritual Power fluctuations from this fellow.
Yet when he had caught the blade between his fingers, the force he felt had indeed been no weaker than the raw physical strength of a cultivator at the peak of Qi Refining.
The fellow must have been carrying a magical treasure that concealed his aura.
If Chun Xiaobai had used Spiritual Power, his destructive power would indeed have been far greater.
Gu Changfeng put away his anger, his gaze deepening, then slowly said:
"Whether swordsmanship or blade techniques, their true core lies not in momentum, but in 'form'!"
Chun Xiaobai was immediately confused.
Wait, hadn't you spent most of the lesson talking about "momentum"?
Why were you suddenly dragging "form" into this?
"Form is the foundation of all techniques, intent is their soul, and momentum is their outward expression..."
Gu Changfeng's voice echoed across the Martial Arts Arena:
"True control means concentrating tremendous force into a single thread, releasing and withdrawing it at will. Even a heavy, edgeless sword can produce the nimble effect of a light sword, like a spirit snake darting from its hole. That is form within the sword, and intent within the form!"
Chun Xiaobai understood that much.
Put plainly, he needed finer control over his strength. He would only pass muster when he could carve flowers with a cleaver.
Wasn't that just a roundabout way of saying he hadn't controlled his sword properly?
He really wanted to demonstrate his flower-carving trick with a watermelon knife right there.
Of course, the main reason he had struck so ruthlessly was that he knew absolutely nothing about the spells and techniques of Immortal Cultivation, leaving him uncertain.
If he got careless and someone stabbed him to death with their flashy swordsmanship, who would compensate him then?
So he could only choose the most direct method to keep himself safe.
Strike first and seize the advantage; strike late and suffer disaster.
That had been his first rule as Mountain King.
"What, do you think your control over your swordsmanship is already excellent?"
Gu Changfeng looked at Chun Xiaobai's unconvinced, even slightly aggrieved expression and asked mildly.
"No, no!" Chun Xiaobai hurriedly shook his head like a pellet drum.
This old fellow had a sharp eye. To think he couldn't even see how helpless I was-truly a big shot!
Gu Changfeng swept his gaze around, then pointed toward a young disciple in the corner, tall and straight-backed, with a face like polished jade and an icy bearing. He spoke gravely.
"Zhao Wuyuan, come here."
"Gasp-Senior Brother Zhao!"
"It's Senior Brother Wuyuan!"
As soon as the disciple named Zhao Wuyuan stepped onto the Martial Arts Arena, the surrounding disciples, especially the Female Disciples, erupted into excited cries.
"Heavens, it's really Senior Brother Zhao! He's one of the top ten swordsmanship geniuses in the Outer Sect!"
"I heard he grasped the beginnings of sword intent at the end of last year. He'll definitely comprehend sword intent by the end of this year and become an Inner Sect disciple!"
"I once watched Senior Brother Zhao practice from a distance. His sword gleamed like moonlight, so fast it made my eyes blur!"
Listening to the chatter around him, Chun Xiaobai's face darkened.
Was this old bastard really trying to get me killed?
Judging by his grand entrance alone, this Zhao Wuyuan fellow looked even more formidable than that Li Xuanfeng.
Now he might really be in trouble.
Seeing his disgruntled, aggrieved expression, Gu Changfeng lifted the corners of his mouth almost imperceptibly.
He wasn't deliberately tormenting Chun Xiaobai. He simply wanted to see just how far this youngster's seasoned blade techniques had progressed.
Over the past thousand years, the Azure Cloud Sect's disciples who had cultivated sword intent could be counted on one hand.
Yet throughout its history, it had never produced a single true prospect for blade cultivation.
The way of the blade was easy to learn but difficult to master, emphasizing momentum over intent. Its demands on temperament and talent were a hundred times more exacting than those of sword cultivation.
Every blade cultivator was a seed of genius that all sides would fight to claim.
After all, blade cultivation was a great path capable of supporting an entire chain of industries. In the current cultivation world, nine out of ten people used swords, while few used blades.
If the sect established a Blade Peak, it would surely lead quite a few disciples onto the path of the blade.
Thus, blade cultivators were now disciples no sect could afford to pass up.
And just now, he had unmistakably sensed an extremely seasoned, ruthless blade momentum from Chun Xiaobai.
But he himself wasn't a blade cultivator.
Therefore, he could only use actual combat to personally gauge this fellow's true level.
"Go, Senior Brother Zhao!"
"Senior Brother Wuyuan will win!"
The female disciples along the edge of the Martial Arts Arena cheered Zhao Wuyuan on.
Chun Xiaobai glanced around and found that those two heartless wretches, Bai Jin'er and Fang Yuan, were watching him sympathetically, as though mourning him in advance.
"Seriously, what's with those looks?"
Those looks left Chun Xiaobai's heart bobbing up and down, making him even less certain.
Zhao Wuyuan stepped forward and cupped his hands toward Chun Xiaobai, his voice indifferent. "Zhao Wuyuan. Please enlighten me."
Chun Xiaobai hurriedly adjusted his grip on the sword and took a defensive stance.
Seeing that he still showed no sign of circulating Spiritual Power, Zhao Wuyuan frowned slightly, a trace of displeasure appearing on his resolute face.
He was sparring with a top-ten swordsmanship genius, yet wouldn't even use Spiritual Power?
This wasn't respect. It was naked contempt, looking down on Zhao Wuyuan's sword!
He immediately spoke in a low voice.
"Since you wish to spar purely in swordsmanship, Senior Brother, very well. Out of respect, I won't use Spiritual Power either. We'll decide the winner through sword techniques alone!"
"What???"
Chun Xiaobai froze, thinking he had misheard.
"Are you sure? You won't use Spiritual Power either?"
Hearing his astonished tone, Zhao Wuji grew even angrier, convinced that his opponent was humiliating him.
He declared proudly, "Even without Spiritual Power, my sword is more than enough to defeat you!"
At those words, joy instantly blossomed in Chun Xiaobai's heart.
No Spiritual Power?
Wasn't that offering your head up to my blade?
What frightened him most were these cultivators' flashy spells.
Without Spiritual Power, these "immortals" amounted to nothing more than martial arts experts with somewhat stronger bodies.
If you compete with me in pure killing skills, who dies if not you?
By the age of six, his blade techniques had already cut through every mounted bandit, wandering brigand, and mountain bandit within five hundred li. His practical combat experience had long since been maxed out!
Chun Xiaobai's tense face instantly relaxed. He grinned, showing a mouthful of white teeth, and imitated his opponent by cupping his hands:
"All right then, Junior Brother. Please enlighten me!"
"You!"
Hearing his suddenly relaxed, carefree tone, along with that "Junior Brother," Zhao Wuyuan's face darkened again with anger.
Chun Xiaobai watched Zhao Wuyuan stand there like a wooden post, waiting for him to strike first.
Only then did he realize that Zhao Wuyuan thought sparring without Spiritual Power was an insult... and had gotten angry?
This Great King simply hasn't started cultivating yet. I really wasn't trying to insult you!
Chun Xiaobai muttered inwardly.
These cultivators were either terrified of dying or obsessed with saving face. What a fucking collection of rotten habits.
He wasn't about to indulge this fellow, who would suffer anything to preserve his pride. Gripping the sword in both hands, he kicked hard against the ground and shouted:
"Take this!"
Chun Xiaobai surged forward, cleaving down with the force to split Mount Hua, his sword whipping up a gale as it hacked straight at Zhao Wuyuan's forehead!
Zhao Wuyuan remained motionless, his eyes cold.
Only when the vicious sword edge was about to touch his scalp did he push off with his toes, drifting a full zhang backward like a phantom.
At the same time, he flicked his wrist. His sword rose as though alive, tracing a streak of cold light at the uncanny angle of a spirit snake sweeping its tail, shooting straight toward Chun Xiaobai's face!
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