Chapter 32: One Slash, Still Only One Slash

"Next, Ning Xiu versus Guo Xiaofu!"

Looking at the familiar face before him, Ning Xiu shook his head and sighed inwardly, "What a small world this is."

"Are you looking down on me?" Guo Xiaofu snorted coldly, pressing her thumb to her sword and slowly drawing it from its sheath.

She had clearly misunderstood Ning Xiu’s gesture.

The Guo family of Yingyang was a well-known martial clan, carrying some renown throughout Lingnan County. As one of the most outstanding members of her generation, Guo Xiaofu naturally attracted much attention. Coupled with the string of astonishing feats Ning Xiu had already displayed, this match drew countless eyes even before it began.

Even Elder Yan Song of the Bamboo Grove Society watched with keen interest.

"Make your move," Ning Xiu said calmly. He offered no explanation for the misunderstanding, believing that arguing was pointless. Besides, Guo Xiaofu wasn’t wrong—he truly did look down on her.

"Arrogant fool!"

With a long, clear ring, the blue-edged sword was unsheathed. Guo Xiaofu gripped the hilt with her right hand, and her aura rose sharply in an instant.

At this, Ning Xiu let out a soft sound of surprise. He hadn’t expected her to be as formidable as she appeared, having grasped a hint of sword intent.

Guo Xiaofu’s aura reached its peak. Then, with a crisp cry, she launched herself forward, her feet moving in a rapid, intricate pattern as she charged at Ning Xiu.

The drumming sound of her footsteps hammered the ground like a sudden storm, each beat reverberating with a strange, enchanting rhythm.

The distance closed quickly—fifteen meters, ten, five...

What puzzled the onlookers was that, in the face of Guo Xiaofu’s assault, Ning Xiu remained motionless, as if his soul had left his body.

Seeing this, Guo Xiaofu’s lips curved with self-satisfaction.

Three meters!

At that precise distance, Guo Xiaofu struck. The sword flashed—a cold blade flicked in mid-air, darting forth like a viper, aimed straight at Ning Xiu’s chest.

This strike she had meticulously planned—three meters was her killing range. At such close quarters, even if her opponent regained his senses, he’d have no time to react. She was utterly confident.

Just as she expected victory to come easily, she noticed a hint of a smile on Ning Xiu’s face.

Was it an illusion?

The thought had barely formed when Guo Xiaofu suddenly saw a dazzling arc of steel—a blade flashed like silver lightning.

Ning Xiu’s steel saber moved, late yet first, crashing down upon the sword.

A surge of overwhelming force erupted from the saber. Guo Xiaofu shuddered, her eyes wide with shock.

The technique she had just employed was her family’s famed Seven-Step Phantom Kill. The rhythm of her steps, powered by her inner force, was meant to bewilder the mind. Many had fallen to this trick, but Ning Xiu was utterly unfazed.

Saber and sword collided fiercely.

The recoil numbed her arms. Unsteady, Guo Xiaofu lost her grip, the sword flying from her hand.

"It’s over," Ning Xiu said placidly, glancing toward Yan Song.

"How could this be? How could I, Guo Xiaofu, lose?" she gritted out. Raised in privilege, she had never tasted defeat and could not accept it now.

Despite her loss, she snatched up her sword and lunged at Ning Xiu in a final attack.

Sensing murderous intent behind him, Ning Xiu’s expression turned cold. He spun, raising his blade in a swift, downward arc.

"Spare her, young master!"

From afar, Guo Xiaofeng shouted in alarm, leaping forward to intervene.

Ning Xiu’s saber split the air with a sharp, piercing whistle.

Clang!

Sparks flew as half of Guo Xiaofu’s sword broke away, the saber’s momentum undiminished. In her eyes—stunned, terrified, despairing—the blade descended.

She closed her eyes to await death, but at the last possible moment, a force yanked her backward. She staggered several paces away, narrowly escaping the fatal strike.

The broken sword spun through the air and embedded itself in the ground.

Guo Xiaofu opened her eyes and saw her brother. "Brother!" she exclaimed with joy.

Before her words had faded, a tearing sound split the air. Her chest was suddenly exposed as her garment was slashed open, a long cut appearing, blood seeping out.

The pain in her chest was sharp and real.

In truth, the wound was not deep, but what truly wounded Guo Xiaofu was not the flesh—it was her pride. Staring at her ruined clothing, shame and fury flooded her. As the gazes of those around her pressed in, humiliation overwhelmed her. Her anger and shame boiled over, and she coughed up a mouthful of blood before collapsing in a faint.

Seeing his sister disgraced, Guo Xiaofeng was furious. He raised his sword and charged at Ning Xiu.

Guo Xiaofeng’s swordplay was even more refined than his sister’s, his inner strength nearly at the second tier. As his sword thrust forward, its tip trembled, flickering left and right, up and down—ten variations within a single stroke.

Yet Ning Xiu did not change his expression or his approach. As before, he raised his hand and brought his blade down in one clean arc.

He had performed this motion countless times.

Let others try a thousand tricks; I will break them all with a single stroke!

The Deathblade Three-Strikes technique, though rated only one star by the system, had been mastered by Ning Xiu to the point of perfection. He understood the art of unpredictability intimately. How could Guo Xiaofeng possibly contend with him?

Under Guo Xiaofeng’s stunned gaze, he was struck and sent flying by Ning Xiu’s saber.

With a crash, Guo Xiaofeng slammed into the wall, coughing up a mouthful of bright blood.

An astonished murmur swept through the hall.

It was one thing for Guo Xiaofu to be defeated in a single strike, but for Guo Xiaofeng, the heir of the Guo family, to fare no better was incredible.

From the beginning of the matches until now, Ning Xiu had used only a single stroke each time.

Who was this Ning Xiu, truly?

This question echoed in the minds of everyone present.

Yan Song’s eyes glinted as he studied Ning Xiu. This domineering saber technique seemed eerily familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere before.

The remainder of the competition held no suspense.

Ning Xiu secured first place. To his mild surprise, the injured Guo Xiaofeng still managed to finish in the top three, alongside an old man in black whose ghostly movements Ning Xiu had to admit were remarkable.

"The selection for the Bamboo Grove Society’s outer disciples is now complete. The chosen three are: Ning Xiu, Guo Xiaofeng, and Du Qi!" Yan Song announced in a ringing voice from the center of the hall.

"As for the rest, should you wish to join the Bamboo Grove Society, you are most welcome. However, you will have to start as ordinary disciples."