Chapter Nineteen: Swordsmanship

At that moment, Xiao Yue’s face was ashen; even he felt embarrassed. He glared at Chu Feng and cursed, “Get out of here! Haven’t you disgraced yourself enough?”
Chu Feng gave a dry laugh, nodded vigorously. Though he had always lived carelessly, today’s events were truly humiliating. He gathered the cups and plates from the table into a large basket, and amidst the laughter, slunk away carrying it.

After Chu Feng left, Old Yang paused in surprise. Suddenly his eyes brightened. He said, “Isn’t that the Chu Feng who can’t awaken his spirit?”
Xiao Yue cast a cold glance at Chu Feng’s retreating figure. “Who else could it be?” he replied indifferently.

“Haha, that kid sure has personality!” Old Yang exclaimed.
Xiao Yue’s mouth twitched involuntarily at this, and he rolled his eyes at Old Yang. “Since you like him so much, how about I let you have him? I’ll part with him, painfully.”
“No, no, no!” Old Yang waved his hands, refusing. “Such a ‘genius’ should be left to you.”
“Don’t regret it,” Xiao Yue sneered, turning to leave.
“How could I regret it?” Old Yang called after him, laughing. The young men and women nearby also smiled, though what they truly wanted to say was, “No one regrets this more than you right now.”

Meanwhile, Chu Feng was thoroughly depressed, never expecting to lose so much face in a single day. He thought to himself that now he’d become “famous” all over again.
Indeed, as he had anticipated, though he had left, his glorious deeds spread swiftly among the trainees.

Chu Feng left the training field and hurried to the Spirit Battle Hall, delivered the cups and plates to the Fragrant Drunken Tavern, and immediately returned. Luckily, the cafeteria was still open.

Since his reputation was already ruined, Chu Feng cared little for anything else. Adhering to the principle of “eat first,” he feasted in the cafeteria before returning to his dormitory to tidy up.

Chu Feng changed into another set of training attire, washed the soiled clothes, then returned to the training field.
His training was destined not to be synchronized with others. At this stage, instructors were more frequently teaching, so the training field was nearly empty.

Even so, those few present couldn’t help but cast Chu Feng a couple of curious glances; some even smiled faintly.
But Chu Feng was thick-skinned; such embarrassment was rare for him, and after tidying himself, he paid no mind to others.

He entered a training room alone, donned soft armor once more, gripped his longsword, and began training.

After a while, Chu Feng realized that his current method, though it strengthened his body, did little for his swordsmanship. He practiced all morning, but only managed diagonal chops, thrusts, horizontal sweeps, and vertical slashes.

Recalling Xiao Yue’s advice from last night, Chu Feng felt it necessary to study swordsmanship in the Scripture Repository. Since he had chosen the sword, why not build a strong foundation from the start?

“While studying swordsmanship, I can also train my physique—a double benefit,” Chu Feng muttered. Weapons weren’t allowed in the Scripture Repository, but soft armor and other gear weren’t restricted.

He left his sword behind, put on a three-hundred-pound soft armor, donned wrist and leg guards, and made his way to the Scripture Repository. To avoid drawing attention, he wore all the armor beneath his clothes.

Upon entering the Repository’s main hall, he saw an elderly man seated at the front. Though advanced in years, the old man’s eyes were still sharp.
On the table before him lay a thick stone book used for registration.

Chu Feng presented his iron token. After confirming his identity, the old man informed him that he still had three opportunities left.

“Is there a time limit for each session?” Chu Feng asked.

The old man glanced at him, smiled slightly, and said, “In theory, no.”

Chu Feng was taken aback. No limit was no limit—why say “in theory”? He didn’t dwell on it, reclaimed his token, and entered.

This was the Scripture Repository of the Twentieth Battalion. Chu Feng had already heard that every newcomer battalion had identical repositories, with no differences between them.

The repository’s contents were rich, nearly encompassing the finest wisdom of the human race.

Of course, the newcomers’ section only contained the most basic materials.

The library hall was vast enough to accommodate half the trainees of the Twentieth Battalion.

Rows of bookshelves lined the hall, each bearing volumes of books. The sight was truly impressive.

Many trainees were present, but none paid Chu Feng any mind, engrossed in their studies. Some, upon gaining insight, immediately found a corner to practice.

As Chu Feng wandered among the shelves, he noticed each was labeled by category, with similar categories grouped together.

He felt overwhelmed by the abundance—the collection must exceed ten million volumes.

At the front of the hall, books on cultivation were displayed. This area was the most crowded.

Though Chu Feng couldn’t awaken his spirit, curiosity compelled him to browse these volumes, gaining an understanding. Some contained fundamental cultivation techniques, describing the process from spirit awakening to manifesting a spirit form.

These methods ultimately aimed at awakening the spirit form, laying a solid foundation for future cultivation.

Other books recorded experiences at this stage.

After a while, Chu Feng moved on and discovered books about barriers, and elsewhere about military, politics, and alchemy—every category was richly represented.

Later, he found manuals on boxing, palm techniques, leg skills, and finally, nearly at the end of a row, swordsmanship.

This arrangement revealed the importance cultivators placed on swordsmanship—it ranked lower than even commercial books.

Chu Feng smiled wryly, acknowledging reality. Once cultivators awakened their spirit form, they could cultivate arts unique to themselves and master spirit techniques. Who would care about swordsmanship then?

Moreover, swordsmanship consisted of a limited set of moves—mere imitation of actions, easily learned, serving only as auxiliary skills in combat, never rivaling the profound power of spirit techniques.

Scanning the shelf, Chu Feng saw that books on swordsmanship numbered only about a hundred—a paltry amount compared to other categories.

Still, Chu Feng knew that these hundred manuals surely contained the essence of human swordsmanship.

He examined each carefully. Titles like “Fourteen Fatal Swords,” “Seventy-Three Demonic Paths,” “Sunset Sword Technique,” “Shadow Sword Technique,” and so on adorned their spines.

Chu Feng clicked his tongue in admiration; the names alone sounded impressive. He picked up “Fourteen Fatal Swords” and began to study.

Bearing seven hundred pounds, even reading was a form of training—a double benefit indeed.

“Fourteen Fatal Swords” was illustrated and annotated. Though only fourteen diagrams, each came with extensive explanations.

The first diagram showed a little figure in a bow stance, thrusting a sword parallel into the opponent’s heart.

“Is this swordsmanship? It doesn’t seem more advanced than what I’ve practiced,” Chu Feng wondered, suspecting the “Fourteen Fatal Swords” wasn’t living up to its name.

In truth, as a beginner, Chu Feng’s understanding of swordsmanship was limited.

He read the annotation for the first diagram. Though only half comprehending, he was nonetheless intrigued; there was much to learn. This move, it turned out, followed directly from the fourteenth.

Chu Feng continued reading and was struck: the seemingly simple move could not only follow the fourteenth but connect with any of the other twelve. Its variations were astonishing, though he could only glimpse the secret, unable to fully grasp its essence.

In fact, “Fourteen Fatal Swords” was the pinnacle of human swordsmanship, distilled from countless techniques. If a swordmaster saw Chu Feng’s insights, they’d be amazed.

Half an hour later, Chu Feng set the book aside and rested, exhausted from holding it up for so long.

Despite his fatigue, Chu Feng was exhilarated; he now understood that swordsmanship was far from simple. He was utterly captivated.

He gradually realized that “Fourteen Fatal Swords” was too profound—each move distilled from myriad techniques. Though he sensed its brilliance, he was left with many doubts, unable to penetrate its true meaning.

“It’s too advanced for me now; let’s see if there’s a simpler sword technique,” Chu Feng thought.

After resting, he searched and found that the swordsmanship books were indeed divided into three categories: beginner, intermediate, and advanced. “Fourteen Fatal Swords” belonged to the advanced group.

Yet even the most profound techniques were fully displayed in the newcomers’ section, which made Chu Feng sigh inwardly.

Among the beginner sword techniques, Chu Feng discovered a book titled “Basic Swordsmanship,” delighting in it and eagerly reading, occasionally shaping his fingers into swords and practicing moves.

Chu Feng immersed himself, comprehending each move.

Swordsmanship is about finding flaws, striking at the opponent’s vital spots. Breaking down moves and practicing swordplay is the most effective method.

But with so few dedicated to swordsmanship, where could one find a partner to break down moves?

Chu Feng’s comprehension was remarkable. With each move, battle scenes sprang vividly to mind. He could not only spot an opponent’s flaws but also identify weaknesses in his own technique.

Yet even with his enthusiasm, Chu Feng had to pause and rest, for he was still bearing seven hundred pounds.

When others noticed this, it inevitably attracted odd looks, as they found it incomprehensible. Some even sneered, “Isn’t that Chu Feng from Squad Nine? How can reading tire him out? Truly hopeless.”

“The world of bottom-tier failures is beyond our understanding.”

“He seems to be reading swordsmanship—does he need to act so dramatic?”

Just then, a handsome youth wearing a purple-gold crown said coldly, “That focused look is truly annoying. Hmph, swordsmanship.”

With a cold snort, the youth strode toward Chu Feng.

Chu Feng continued studying “Basic Swordsmanship,” deepening his understanding. At this moment, another came to study swordsmanship—it was the crowned youth.

He glanced at the shelf’s description, immediately grasped the arrangement, and promptly selected “Seventy-Three Demonic Paths” from the advanced swordsmanship section.

He shot Chu Feng a glance, sneered, and muttered, “Basic Swordsmanship, huh.” Then he began reading the manual.

Chu Feng, absorbed, heard the youth’s words but paid no mind, merely smiling coldly and continuing his study.

The youth felt ignored and frowned, giving Chu Feng another cold look.

Half an hour later, the youth seemed to have finished “Seventy-Three Demonic Paths,” glanced at Chu Feng, and picked up “Fourteen Fatal Swords.”

Less than fifteen minutes passed before he switched to “Fiery Pure Yang Sword.” He glanced at Chu Feng again, saw him still engrossed in “Basic Swordsmanship,” and sneered repeatedly, tossing the manual onto the shelf and saying loudly, “What a useless sword technique—easy to learn and absolutely worthless compared to cultivation.”

He deliberately raised his voice to provoke Chu Feng, but Chu Feng didn’t even glance at him, murmuring, “Wonderful, wonderful—no wonder fools don’t understand.”

The youth was furious—never had he been so insulted, especially with so many watching. He shouted, “Who are you calling a fool?”

“Shh! Careful not to disturb the administrator,” Chu Feng whispered, still not looking at him.

The youth clenched his fists, nearly ablaze with anger. He had come to make trouble, but was instead mocked, and though he wanted to explode, he dared not in the repository.

“Failure Chu Feng, you’re far too arrogant!” the youth pointed at Chu Feng and spat.

Chu Feng was calm by nature, not one for bravado. He tolerated the provocations, not out of fear, but simply not wishing to bully the weak.

But being so insulted while quietly studying, he did feel anger—who was really arrogant here?

“You’d best not provoke me,” Chu Feng said coldly, his sharp gaze like blades cutting toward the youth.

The youth involuntarily stepped back, startled.

He nearly went mad, but instead laughed in fury, pointing at Chu Feng, “Fine, very fine—don’t leave the repository!” With that, he stormed off.