The Will of Domination? Thirty Years East of the River, Thirty Years West-Don't Scorn a Youth for Being Poor!

"Not bad." Qian Daoliu nodded slightly, satisfaction showing in his eyes.

Although Lu Xuan's second Soul Skill was not the enhancement-type skill he had expected.

A penetrating, partial-area attack that inflicted forced bleeding was still quite good.

After all, if Soul Skills really turned out exactly as people envisioned, everyone would be invincible.

With the Soul Skill test finished, Qian Daoliu turned and walked to the weapon rack at the edge of the training ground, selecting two unsharpened hardwood swords, one large and one small.

With a casual toss, he sent the smaller wooden sword into Lu Xuan's hand.

"Next comes today's main event: sword practice!"

Holding the wooden sword, Qian Daoliu's entire bearing instantly changed from that of a kindly, amiable man to a peerless divine weapon drawn from its sheath.

"What I will teach you next is the Angel Sword Technique, passed down through generations of our Qian Family, an art of slaughter tempered a thousand times over by our forebears."

"However, remember this: some parts of this sword technique require the Six-Winged Angel's wings to gain leverage in midair and reverse direction before they can be performed."

As Qian Daoliu spoke, he slowly began wielding the wooden sword in the clearing.

He used not a trace of Soul Power, yet the wooden sword seemed to become a roaming dragon in his hand.

The sword wind howled, faintly carrying the rumble of wind and thunder.

"I will still teach you the complete sword technique, but without wings, you must work out how to compensate with footwork and movement, and improve it!"

Qian Daoliu thrust his sword, its tip stopping steadily in midair. He turned to Lu Xuan, his tone solemn.

"A supreme sword technique can raise a mediocrity's lower limit, but only a sword technique that truly suits you and incorporates your own understanding can let you touch the upper limits of the sword!"

"I once encountered someone who had forged his own distinctive path of the sword. Unfortunately, he still fell to me in the end."

The person Qian Daoliu spoke of was none other than Chen Jianjun, the father of the present-day Sword Douluo Chen Xin.

Lu Xuan's expression sharpened. His right hand gripped the hilt tightly, and his unblinking eyes followed Qian Daoliu's every movement.

Perhaps because he was a transmigrator, he had possessed an astonishing memory since childhood.

Qian Daoliu demonstrated only a few times before Lu Xuan firmly imprinted those intricate moves in his mind.

He could even copy their outward forms, tracing the gourd by its outline.

Qian Daoliu was somewhat shocked. This talent for the sword was formidable!

However, learning the outward form was only the first step.

The true tempering had only just begun.

Once he entered teaching mode, Qian Daoliu seemed to become an entirely different person, so strict that he bordered on unreasonable.

Across the training ground, the dull clashes of wooden swords rose and fell alongside Qian Daoliu's stern reprimands.

"You're applying force through your wrist incorrectly! Your grip is too rigid. If you take a heavy blow, the recoil through the blade will split the web of your hand and make you drop your sword on the spot!"

"Smack!" The wooden sword in Qian Daoliu's hand flicked against Lu Xuan's wrist like a venomous snake.

The pain made Lu Xuan suck in a sharp breath.

"Your intent is far too obvious with this strike! Your feet already laid your attack's entire trajectory bare!"

"Is that the strike I taught you? You've copied its shape but not its spirit. It's limp and utterly devoid of killing intent!"

"Coordinate your footwork! Your footing is unsteady, and you're not moving with your sword. Are you trying to be a living target for the enemy?"

Under the blazing midday sun, Lu Xuan's training clothes were already soaked through with sweat.

Beads of sweat the size of beans slid down his chin and splattered onto the scorching ground.

The intense sword-swinging had left his arms somewhat numb, trembling slightly beyond his control.

Seeing this, Qian Daoliu said gravely, "That's enough practice! Stop and rest!"

Only then, as though granted a grand pardon, did Lu Xuan collapse onto his backside on the ground.

"From now on, you'll spend every morning practicing the sword. Afternoons and evenings will be for meditation to cultivate Soul Power, and medicinal baths to temper your body," Qian Daoliu said, handing Lu Xuan a cup of water.

"Tempering your physique and cultivating Soul Power are both extremely important. Your Life Scepter Martial Soul grants you tremendous recovery abilities. Don't waste that gift."

In the days that followed, Lu Xuan's life settled entirely into a three-point routine: sword practice, cultivation, and body tempering.

On the morning of the third day, light footsteps suddenly sounded outside the training ground.

Qian Renxue walked in, dressed in practical training clothes and brimming with spirit.

She had clearly absorbed her fourth Soul Ring successfully and officially entered the Soul Ancestor realm.

However, according to the current timeline, the time for Qian Renxue to head to the Heaven Dou Empire on her mission to usurp the nation was drawing near.

She stood at the sidelines, watching with interest for a while as Qian Daoliu reprimanded Lu Xuan during sword practice.

Then she walked straight to the weapon rack, drew a medium-sized wooden sword suitable for her, and casually spun it through several beautiful flourishes.

"Grandpa, let me practice with Lu Xuan!" Qian Renxue looked eagerly at Qian Daoliu.

"All right!" Qian Daoliu considered briefly and did not refuse.

There were differences in both their ages and Soul Power, but the gaps were not large.

But Qian Renxue had trained under Qian Daoliu since childhood, and her swordsmanship far surpassed Lu Xuan's, giving her an absolute advantage.

Still, without pressure, there was no motivation. Having these two little ones spar might let Lu Xuan recognize his shortcomings more directly.

"Come on, squirt!~" Qian Renxue walked to the center of the ground, her sword tip angled toward the earth, clearly retaliating for Lu Xuan previously threatening her into calling him Uncle.

"Neither of us will release our Martial Souls or use Soul Power. We'll use only our wooden swords and compete in pure swordsmanship!"

"All right!" Lu Xuan took a deep breath and reached up to brush aside the sweat-soaked bangs plastered to his forehead, his gaze sharpening.

He knew perfectly well that he had practiced the sword for only three days. In proficiency and fluidity, he could never match Qian Renxue.

Thus, his strategy was clear.

Counter motion with stillness; meet ten thousand changes by remaining unchanged.

After all, with such an absolute gap in proficiency, the more he moved, the more openings he would expose!

The two stood facing each other as a breeze swept up fallen leaves from the ground.

Seeing Lu Xuan adopt a tightly guarded defensive stance without making a move, Qian Renxue's lips curved slightly, and she attacked first.

Holding her sword one-handed, her steps as light and nimble as a swallow, she closed the distance in an instant. Her wooden sword thrust straight toward Lu Xuan's chest with a sharp whistle of wind!

Lu Xuan reacted swiftly, holding his sword horizontally before his chest to block.

"Clang-!"

The two swords met with a dull impact.

Even without using Soul Power, Qian Renxue's physical abilities far surpassed Lu Xuan's.

Tremendous force traveled through the wooden sword.

Lu Xuan felt his arm go numb, and his entire body slid backward several steps against his will.

Having landed her first blow, Qian Renxue's smile deepened.

She gave Lu Xuan no chance to catch his breath. With a sharp flick of her wrist, her downward-pressing blade instantly changed course, borrowing the counterforce from Lu Xuan's block.

The wooden sword traced an elegant arc through the air, then flicked upward forcefully at an extremely tricky angle!

"Crack!"

Lu Xuan's expression changed in alarm. In his haste, he could only barely twist his blade, blocking that upward strike by the narrowest of margins.

But that block left his center completely exposed.

In the eyes of someone who had practiced the sword for years, like Qian Renxue, Lu Xuan was now riddled with openings from head to toe.

Qian Renxue's gaze focused, and her wooden sword twisted with the momentum like a nimble snake flicking out its tongue.

It struck precisely at the point on Lu Xuan's wooden sword least able to withstand force.

"Smack!"

A sharp pain shot through the web of Lu Xuan's hand, and his right hand could no longer hold the hilt.

The wooden sword flew straight out of his hand, tumbling high into the air.

Wooden sword: Lu Xuan, I won't be coming home for dinner today. Tell my ma I'll miss her!

Finally, with a clatter, it dropped helplessly to the ground in the distance.

The fight ended within a mere three moves.

"You're so bad!" Qian Renxue withdrew her sword and stood with both arms folded across her chest, looking down at the empty-handed Lu Xuan.

She mocked him mercilessly, her eyes full of amusement.

Lu Xuan rubbed the reddened web of his hand and looked at the wooden sword on the ground.

He felt as though he were in that village that preached the will of domination everywhere, and he was now that child who was bullied and constantly patted on the head.

His little face flushed bright red.

He abruptly raised his head, glared at Qian Renxue, and protested loudly, "I've only practiced the sword for three days! Who knows how many years you've practiced? What's so impressive about bullying someone by relying on your proficiency?"

"Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west-don't scorn a youth for being poor!"