Chapter Thirty-Two: Astonishing Swordsmanship

In the training grounds, everyone had formed a wide circle, their eyes fixed unblinkingly on the center, hearts brimming with anticipation.

There, Zhou Xing and Luo Peng stood opposite each other, each gripping a wooden sword.

Soon, the two erupted into action, swords flashing and shadows weaving through the air.

Their swordplay was exquisite—swift and precise—leaving the onlookers awestruck and marveling in secret.

Matched in strength, both men moved with fierce intent, their attacks and defenses sharp as blades.

The crowd could scarcely follow their movements; in mere moments, they had already exchanged more than a hundred blows.

Yet, until now, neither had revealed the true extent of their family’s secret techniques. Each strike was a test, probing the other’s skill.

“I never expected Luo Peng to wield such swordsmanship. Could he be a descendant of Luo Tian? I wonder if he can withstand my Seventy-Three Steps of the Demon-Banishing Sword,” Zhou Xing thought to himself.

On the other side, Luo Peng was equally astonished, thinking, “Such formidable swordplay! Zhou Xing is likely a descendant of Zhou Cheng. How far has he mastered the Seventy-Three Steps of the Demon-Banishing Sword?”

Their probing complete, the two unleashed their respective family’s ultimate techniques.

In an instant, their attacks grew even more ferocious. Though their swords were made of wood, the spectators felt their hearts race with dread.

“I’ve never seen such refined swordsmanship!”

“So this is the level sword techniques can reach!”

“Incredible! Clearly, my previous understanding of swordsmanship was lacking.”

Exclamations rang out among the crowd. Though they recognized the brilliance of the duel, few among them had studied swordplay deeply enough to grasp the true essence of each move.

Off to the side, Xiao Yue’s pupils contracted as he thought, “Just as I suspected—Zhou Xing uses Zhou Cheng’s Seventy-Three Steps of the Demon-Banishing Sword, while Luo Peng wields Luo Tian’s Blazing Pure Yang Sword. Their swordsmanship is indeed superb, but it lacks a certain spirit. Not everyone possesses Chu Feng’s innate talent for the sword.”

Meanwhile, Chu Feng’s eyes shone as he watched the battle, realizing the two’s sword skills exceeded even his expectations.

Zhou Xing’s Demon-Banishing Sword was not only fiercely offensive but nearly impenetrable in defense, evoking a sense of invulnerability.

Luo Peng’s Blazing Pure Yang Sword focused on overwhelming attack; each stroke burned with the force of an inferno, mighty and relentless.

“They’ve both brought their family styles to the peak, but still lack flexibility,” Chu Feng mused. Watching them, he sensed that while their techniques were refined, they were short on variety.

Though Chu Feng had not trained long, his insight into the art of the sword was profound. To him, adaptation was the soul of swordsmanship; with infinite variation, even elementary techniques, wielded at the right moment, could rival the power of advanced forms.

Amid a chorus of cheers, Zhou Xing and Luo Peng displayed their skills to the fullest. In the end, Luo Peng claimed victory by half a move, and the contest concluded.

“Remarkable!” Even after the duel ended, the crowd could not help but cheer; the two’s swordsmanship truly left them in awe.

“My respect. There is always someone greater,” Zhou Xing said, cupping his fists. Despite his earlier pride, this battle brought him a sense of calm.

“It was pure luck,” Luo Peng replied with a smile.

At this, many turned to look at Chu Feng, knowing he would be next to enter the fray, his opponent inevitably either Zhou Xing or Luo Peng.

Having witnessed their swordplay, most believed the two had reached the pinnacle.

“Chu Feng’s swordsmanship seems formidable too. How does he compare to them?” many wondered, their anticipation for the coming match growing.

At this moment, Xiao Yue announced, “Next, Zhou Xing and Luo Peng will join forces to face Chu Feng. If Chu Feng wins, he is first; if not, he takes third place.”

The crowd was stunned into silence, as were Zhou Xing and Luo Peng.

After a brief hush, the grounds erupted in uproar.

“What kind of joke is this? The instructor must have too much faith in Chu Feng!”

“Zhou Xing and Luo Peng are at the peak of their art. Even if Chu Feng matches them individually, how could he overcome both at once?”

Yet Zhou Xing had grown calm. Gone was his former arrogance. He had always considered himself the leader of Squad Nine, but the recent tests had been sobering. To lose at the art he was most proud of taught him there was always someone stronger.

Zhou Xing glanced at Xiao Yue and then at Chu Feng, his expression grave. He was filled with complicated emotions; who would have thought that someone unable even to awaken spiritual power could be so unfathomable? Now, he was convinced that the instructor’s arrangement had its reasons.

“Has he mastered some fearsome sword art? What could possibly surpass the Demon-Banishing Sword and the Blazing Pure Yang Sword?” Zhou Xing wondered. These two techniques represented the pinnacle of human swordsmanship; even other peak styles were only their equals. He could not imagine anything greater.

Luo Peng’s thoughts were much the same. Having trained since childhood, both had honed their ancestral styles to perfection. To them, even if Chu Feng’s skills were strong, he could be no more than their equal. How could he hope to take on two at once?

With doubt in their eyes, Luo Peng and Zhou Xing stood together in the arena, while Chu Feng approached, wooden sword in hand.

Chu Feng’s expression was calm, but inside, excitement surged. Since beginning his sword training, he had gained deep understanding, but opportunities for live combat were rare. Aside from a single bout with Xiao Yue, he had little actual fighting experience.

Chu Feng thought that frequent duels with masters would quickly hone his skill.

“Brother Chu, please,” Luo Peng said, raising his sword defensively, poised to attack or parry.

Zhou Xing said nothing, but also readied his stance.

“Please,” Chu Feng replied with a smile, raising his sword with a sweeping, forceful motion.

The battle was about to ignite. Zhou Xing and Luo Peng advanced together, their swords aimed at Chu Feng.

Chu Feng shifted nimbly, blade at the ready.

For a time, the arena was swept by whistling winds and shimmering sword shadows. Against two, Chu Feng showed no sign of faltering.

“I never imagined Chu Feng’s swordsmanship to be this formidable,” someone remarked in awe.

Chu Feng, for his part, used only elementary techniques. Zhou Xing and Luo Peng, seeking to probe him, also responded with basic forms rather than their ultimate skills.

Yet in the hands of masters, even elementary swordplay was potent.

During the exchange, Zhou Xing thought, “He’s got some skill, but to withstand our peak techniques together? Impossible.”

“Let’s see what pinnacle style you’ve mastered,” Luo Peng mused inwardly.

Though it was their first time teaming up, Luo Peng and Zhou Xing coordinated seamlessly, gradually shifting to more advanced techniques.

Their swordplay grew more intricate, their speed more menacing, but they were still only able to match Chu Feng.

“So fast!” Luo Peng thought, startled. Their coordination was flawless, yet Chu Feng continued to counter all their attacks with basic sword forms. If anything, his speed seemed even more terrifying.

“He’s still using elementary techniques. Is he just relying on greater explosive power?” Zhou Xing thought with some disdain.

Chu Feng’s raw power and speed did surpass theirs, but he deliberately matched their pace, seeking a fair contest of skill rather than overwhelming them.

It was not raw speed, but adaptability that set Chu Feng apart. Each move was natural and precise, shifting seamlessly from one basic sword manual to another, none following a set sequence. In his hands, these disparate techniques flowed as one.

What set him apart was not speed, but transformation. Every attack was perfectly timed; although Zhou Xing and Luo Peng recognized the individual moves, the way Chu Feng combined them was so fluid that they failed to notice the utter chaos of his routine. It appeared familiar, yet was not.

Thus, both men were misled, convinced Chu Feng was simply using brute force to increase his speed.

Offstage, Xiao Yue watched every movement, marveling in his heart, “A monster. His swordsmanship has improved even since last time. Even as an observer, it took me a while to realize he’s not following any established form. It could even be said he’s forging his own style.”

Chu Feng was not fighting at full strength; he wished to prolong the battle, to test and refine his insights of recent days.

As the struggle continued, Zhou Xing and Luo Peng grew increasingly restless. Their swordplay was ingenious, their moves endless, yet they could not breach Chu Feng’s defenses.

After three thousand exchanges, confusion crept in: “Chu Feng has used at least fifty different basic sword routines, each flawless. Where did he learn so many?”

They knew the Spirit Battle Pavilion held the largest collection of sword techniques, but even there, only twenty sets of basic sword forms existed. Yet Chu Feng had demonstrated more than fifty, every one seeming vaguely familiar.

With doubt gnawing at them, the two were suddenly struck by realization: Chu Feng’s swordplay did not follow any established path—he had created his own.

“Is swordsmanship really meant to be used this way?” Luo Peng was shaken. Chu Feng’s moves had revealed to him an entirely new realm of the sword.

“A true master!” Zhou Xing thought, his respect for Chu Feng deepening. “Still, even so, defeating our peak styles with basic swordplay alone is impossible. At best, he can only match us.”

They admitted Chu Feng’s swordsmanship surpassed their own, yet they remained confident in their ultimate techniques. They could not believe that basic forms could overcome the pinnacle.

Without further hesitation, both unleashed their family’s supreme sword arts.

“Excellent. Now it’s time to end this,” Chu Feng declared, his sword stance shifting, his aura growing more intense.

In that instant, amid the flurry of sword shadows, Zhou Xing and Luo Peng found themselves struggling.

“What sword style is this?” Alarm swept through both. Heirs to sword masters, they considered their knowledge vast, yet Chu Feng’s technique was utterly unfamiliar—even the Spirit Battle Pavilion did not possess such a form.