Chapter 48: Chapter 48

Zhao Wei’s eyes are filled with excitement. Li Feng and Lan Xiaohui both wear neutral expressions. A stillness settles in the area like a thick invisible veil that trails in the wake of the falling snowflake.

On a nearby branch, the accumulated snow overpowers the rigidity of the branches and falls to the ground. The moment it hits the ground, Li Feng and Lan Xiaohui burst with sword energy and move faster than a mortal’s eyes can follow.

My [Critical Analysis] talent activates on its own and provides a context.

[Heaven - Footwork] Cloudwalker Fairy Steps

It is a surprising additional function of my improved talent, but I am not certain why I can divine the name of the technique. Is it because I can read Li Feng’s mind, or is it related to my Dao? Perhaps, connected like this, I am able to access Lan Xiaohui’s memories. That seems like the most likely possibility. They went to the same sect together, after all.

Lan Xiaohui’s Waning Moon Step is no lesser than Li Feng’s footwork and of the same grade, but there is a degree of difference in execution. Lan Xiaohui is slightly slower.

From her provocation — her carefully chosen words — to the first exchange is all part of Lan Xiaohui’s strategy. In terms of cultivation, her chances of defeating someone in the Late stage of Foundation Establishment are exceedingly slim if not hopeless. It is not impossible, but one may as well jump off a mountain and bet on surviving the landing.

But as Lan Xiaohui has learned over the past months: cultivation is not everything. Yet her opponent is not a demonic beast that lacks martial arts, but is an expert with martial arts of the same Grade.

A series of bursts of energy crackle through the area, causing the surface of the pond to shimmer and tremble in the midday sun. On one side, flashes of gold and white sword energy expel sparks as the ground beneath crumbles under the heavy steps, and on the other side flashes of black and red do the same.

They circle each other like two neutron stars about to collide, their distance shrinking with each orbit around the arena. After a whole second they collide, blowing away the falling snow and causing the branches to bend away from the direction of the impact, as if twisted by hurricane winds.

The collision is so powerful I feel it pulse deep within my vessel and I even suspect that this will have caused me internal damage. I am no ordinary sword, but Li Feng’s sword is not a cheap treasure either.

The swords collide without a martial technique behind them, only sword energy that is neither forced to retreat nor able to advance, and dissipates harmlessly.

With their weapons locked against each other, Lan Xiaohui and Li Feng exchange cold glances. Despite the surprise that Lan Xiaohui has managed to withstand his first strike — or keep up with his footwork — I know that Li Feng’s heart is calm and steady.

On the other hand, Lan Xiaohui’s heart brims with heat and eagerness. She is enjoying this. It takes significant effort for her not to smile. This close to death, she can see her Dao hovering just out of reach. A step forward and her fingers can reach it.

Lan Xiaohui, blessed with strong roots, fortunate enough to cross paths with me and enhance her physique, and possessing a profound battle instinct, also turns out to be the kind of deviant that enjoys dangling on the precipice of death. I truly could not have hoped to find a better companion.

I unleash my consciousness and the moment I do so, Li Feng’s eyes narrow. Zhao Wei takes another step back. Only Lan Xiaohui remains unfettered by the sudden presence of such tyrannical attention. [Tyranny] is an appropriate name for the quality of my consciousness.

“Hmph,” Li Feng scoffs, and then overpowers Lan Xiaohui, pushing her away and freeing his sword. In a clash of fierce and rigid stances, it is only natural that the one with more physical power will win the contest.

Sword energy cascades over Li Feng’s sword and a potent sword Qi emerges from the blade, like snowflakes falling upwards and in reverse. Each point of light within the sword is like a star.

[Heaven - Sword] Falling Star Slash

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Once more, my [Critical Analysis] activates and I automatically point out the near-future to Lan Xiaohui. To her, it must seem like she can see an ethereal version of Li Feng, moving one breath’s time in advance of his actual body.

At the same time, a sub routine fires, showing me a changelog of my most recent advancement.

[ Soul Perception: Grade D -> Grade C ]

Lan Xiaohui widens her stance and shifts her body to the side. She effortlessly and smoothly changes from a rigid stance to a soft and flexible one, aware of the incoming attack and its vectors.

She inhales and a thick plume of black and red sword energy rises from my vessel, washing over the edge of my blade like a fog. Her sword Qi fuses into the sword energy, causing it to glimmer also like stars in a vast night sky.

Li Feng’s surface thoughts informs me of his shock. Even though Lan Xiaohui’s sword Qi is weaker than his, it is compressed and refined to such a point that it could easily overpower all of his. There is awe in that moment of hesitation. Awe and a deep, unshakable portent of danger.

Lan Xiaohui’s Storm Cleaver meets with the Falling Star Slash head on. There is no way to avoid it. If Lan Xiaohui attacks any other part of Li Feng, she may kill him but she will also lose her life in the process.

The two swords clash, my vessel black with a silver edge, and Li Feng’s treasure a pure silver with streaks of azure. At the moment of impact, I feel a deep rush of foreign Qi barrage through my internal vessel attempting to expel Lan Xiaohui’s Qi, and it might have been successful in doing so were it not for Lan Xiaohui’s profound understanding of the Dao and the sword Qi she has been sharpening and refining for weeks.

The two sword energies clash and merge together, resulting in a single jet of white, blue, black and red shooting off into the air, carrying glittering fragments of solidified sword Qi that cuts apart everything in its path.

Li Feng’s sword cracks at the point of impact, and then breaks, chipping a large piece of the treasure sword’s blade.

Now, Li Feng feels nothing but cold terror gripping his heart and, to a lesser degree, confusion.

Zhao Wei takes a bit longer to understand the situation. His membership in the Alchemy Hall does not focus on martial arts and techniques, or even the cultivation of sword Qi, but even he can understand that this result is unexpected.

Perhaps sensing that his life is fleeting or standing on thin ice, he steps forward, gripping his sword, but all it takes is a single falling star of sword Qi to pass in front of him for him to feel the vibrant and chilling killing intent contained with it and then to step back once more.

Lan Xiaohui exhales her held breath and relaxes her stance. She could not kill Li Feng in one blow — it was likely impossible from the beginning. She could not overpower him in a meeting of rigid and fierce styles — she never expected to win that contest in the first place.

Now all she had left was to counter attack.

“Come, Li Feng,” she says, closing her eyes — she does not need them anymore. “It is getting dark and cold.”

The most surprising part about those words is not that Lan Xiaohui may be talented in the art of communication, but the fact that she actually looks forward to resting next to a campfire when she is done here.

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