eurekapd Chapter 549 The Battle of the Peak
Chapter 549 The Battle of the Peak
Bai Yujing's expression gradually changed from relaxed and carefree to serious.
He was indeed very excited at first.
He has lived most of his life, reaching the pinnacle of swordsmanship, but has been stuck at that threshold for far too many years.
He searched through ancient books and visited countless so-called sword masters, but those people were either just empty names or didn't even pique his interest in drawing his sword.
He thought that this was probably how his life would end.
But when he stepped onto the arena and saw the young man opposite him, dressed in a gray robe and holding an ordinary iron sword, his sword intent was suddenly stirred by something. It wasn't hostility, but a feeling he hadn't had in a long time—like a dried-up riverbed suddenly hearing the sound of water in the distance.
At first, he thought it was just an illusion.
But when the tip of the iron sword touched the weakest point of his swordplay twice, he realized—this was not an illusion. This was a true return to simplicity. Those seemingly clumsy and awkward sword moves, like a novice apprentice's clumsy attempts at wielding a sword, were precisely timed to the exact moment his swordplay was about to take shape but had not yet fully unfolded.
It's like a person walking along a stream, each step landing precisely on the calmest part of the water, without splashing or stirring up any dust.
But a long-lost, burning fighting spirit surged within him.
He had been waiting for this day for a long time.
He saw in this opponent what he had been searching for all along.
It wasn't a sword technique, nor a martial art, but rather a realm he could vaguely grasp but always fell just short of.
That line was on the gray-clothed figure before us, on that ordinary iron sword.
The solemnity in Bai Yujing's eyes receded like the tide, replaced by an almost devout seriousness.
He took a deep breath, gripped the sword hilt tightly again, and then took a step forward.
The two had been fighting on the ring for quite some time.
The iron sword and the jade-white longsword continued to clash gently in the air, producing a soft, tinkling sound.
Qin Mu's moves still looked clumsy and awkward, like a beginner swordsman practicing, each movement seemed a beat slow, and even a little stumbling.
But his sword, though a beat slower, always landed precisely in the path of Bai Yujing's next strike, like a fish that already knew the direction of the current, swimming effortlessly among the rocks.
Bai Yujing's sword became faster and faster, denser and denser, with layers of sword light spreading out like moonlight on the water, flickering yet continuous.
As their swords clashed, dust rose and fell on the arena, like a thin layer of mist that flowed slowly between the two.
The audience watched for a while, their initial confusion turning into patience, and now—they've become confused again.
A young swordsman frowned and whispered to his companion, "I'm getting more and more confused. Who's really winning?"
His companion shook his head, equally bewildered: "I can't tell. They don't seem to be in a hurry to win."
"What are they playing?"
"have no idea."
One audience member rubbed their eyes and muttered, "Why do I feel... getting more and more tired watching?"
The person next to him nodded: "I feel the same way. They're playing so slowly, but even though my eyes are sore from staring at them, I still can't keep up."
They were all puzzled, feeling as if their gazes were locked by something; they could clearly see it, but their bodies couldn't react.
Xu Longxiang sat on the high platform, leaning slightly forward, his brows furrowing more and more tightly.
His gaze shifted back and forth between the two figures on the arena.
At first, he could understand a little bit of it—he could decipher the timing of that sword strike and the advance and retreat of that step.
But as the fight went on, he realized that his eyes couldn't keep up. It wasn't that the speed was too fast, but that the tactics had changed.
The sword moves began to blur, like looking at something through water; the outlines were still there, but the details were impossible to grasp.
His brow was furrowed into a deep knot.
He turned to look at Fan Li behind him, his voice low but carrying an urgency he himself didn't realize: "Mr. Fan... can you see what they're up to now?"
Fan Li did not answer immediately.
His gaze remained fixed on the arena. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice low but carrying a rare seriousness: "This old man... can only make out the general outline."
He paused, as if carefully choosing his words: "Zhao San's sword strikes, seemingly clumsy, actually avoided the strongest point of Bai Yujing's sword intent with every strike. He wasn't slow; he was waiting, waiting for Bai Yujing's sword momentum to reach its fullest point, and then cutting in from the weakest point."
Xu Longxiang's brow twitched slightly: "What about Bai Yujing?"
"Bai Yujing's swordsmanship is nearing perfection; every move is flawless. But he is too perfect, so perfect that he has lost all potential for change."
Fan Li's gaze remained fixed on the arena. "Zhao San's sword strikes, seemingly full of flaws, were actually traps at every turn. He was leading Bai Yujing in the direction he wanted. From the very beginning of this battle, Bai Yujing was being led by the nose by Zhao San."
Xu Longxiang paused slightly in his breathing.
"So... what level have they reached?"
Fan Li paused for a moment, his voice even lower than before, as if afraid the wind would hear: "I dare to guess... these two people have probably already touched the threshold of becoming terrestrial immortals. They're just one step away from stepping inside."
Xu Longxiang's pupils suddenly contracted.
It felt like being pricked by a needle, or frozen in place; I sat stiffly in the chair, my back ramrod straight.
His grip on the handrail tightened suddenly, his knuckles turned white, and the veins on the back of his hand bulged.
He turned his head, his gaze fixed intently on Fan Li, his voice trembling slightly with excitement: "Both...are they?"
Fan Li looked into his eyes and nodded gently: "Mm."
Xu Longxiang's breathing became heavy, and his chest heaved violently twice.
He stopped looking at Fan Li and turned his gaze back to the arena, landing on the two figures.
His voice was very soft, almost like he was talking to himself, yet it carried an undeniable certainty: "Both of them... I want them both."
Fan Li, standing behind him, heard these words.
He neither refuted nor agreed.
He simply turned his gaze back to the ring, but his heart felt heavy, as if a stone was pressing down on it.
With Bai Yujing's strength, how could he be so easily won over?
But he didn't say these words out loud.
He knew that His Highness was in high spirits, and pouring cold water on his enthusiasm would only make His Highness dissatisfied with him, which would be detrimental to both of them.
As for what happens next, we can only take it one step at a time.
Chen Ruoyao sat beside Xu Longxiang, and from the moment Bai Yujing drew his sword, her gaze had been fixed on the gray-clothed figure.
Her lips curved slightly, but she quickly regained her aloof and indifferent expression.
She knew it was His Majesty.
I know he's using this method to gradually move towards becoming "number one in the world".
A surge of inexplicable pride welled up within her, tinged with a restrained urge to laugh. His Majesty could easily overturn the entire arena in one move, yet he chose to play it slowly like this.
She suddenly remembered what Qin Mu had said before—"To be number one in the world."
Now she truly believes it.
On the arena, Qin Mu could sense that his opponent's sword intent was changing.
The change was subtle, like the slight acceleration of a river just before it turns a bend.
He suddenly understood what Bai Yujing was thinking.
This person wasn't doing it for the win, for fame, or even for the prizes of the martial arts tournament.
He left Canglan City, which he had guarded for so many years, in order to break through that critical barrier.
He came looking for an opportunity.
At that moment, he believed that he was the one who had the opportunity.
Qin Mu's lips twitched slightly, the smile extremely faint, like a ripple on the surface of water, which was then completely concealed.
His demeanor suddenly changed.
The change came without warning, yet it seemed to have been waiting all along.
The iron sword was still in his hand, still looking ordinary, but suddenly a very faint light appeared on the blade, the kind of cold and translucent white that only appears when the morning sun shines on iron.
It wasn't a violent, oppressive aura, but something deeper—like the surface of a deep pool suddenly becoming still, so calm that it reflected the entire sky.
Then, Qin Mu raised his sword.
The sword slowly swept across his body, the movement unhurried, yet carrying a solemnity that held everyone's attention.
Then he delivered the sword.
There were no sword moves, no sword stances, and it was impossible to tell what techniques he used.
Just as the sword fell, the sky above the entire training ground suddenly darkened, as if an invisible cloud had covered the sun, turning the sunlight into a pale gold.
Where Qin Mu's sword passed, the air rippled open like water, creating a visible crack, the edges of which gleamed with an extremely fine silver light.
A sword aura silently emerged from the edge of the iron sword. At first, it was just an extremely thin white line, as fine as silk, like the first ray of light drawn from the tip of a needle. But after it left the sword, it began to expand, spread, and rise, and in the blink of an eye, it spread out across the sky.
That sword energy was like an invisible giant sword that traversed the sky, passing over the arena, over the stands, over the highest flag in the training ground, and piercing straight into the clouds, tearing a straight rift in the sky, like a sword stabbing from the earth into the sky.
The clouds were cleaved in two by the sword, churning to both sides and revealing a deep blue, high sky through the crack.
At the edge of the rift, the wisps of cloud were scorched to a pale gold by the sword energy, like the edge of burnt paper, slightly curled, yet unwilling to disperse.
In the blink of an eye, the world changed color.
The entire training ground was enveloped by that sword aura, and all sound disappeared.
The sounds of the wind, people, and the hustle and bustle of the distant streets seemed to be suddenly suppressed by an invisible hand.
Those who had been whispering amongst themselves just moments before now had their mouths agape, but no sound came out.
An elderly swordsman dropped his sword to the ground with a clatter. He didn't bend down to pick it up; he just stood there, looking up at the sword aura that stretched across the sky. His lips moved, but he didn't say anything.
When Qin Mu sheathed his sword, the sword aura that stretched across the sky still hung there, like an inverted mountain ridge.
After a few breaths, it began to slowly dissipate, with the silver light at the edges drifting away like grains of sand blown by the wind.
The straight crack in the middle gradually narrowed, as if it were gently closed from both sides by an invisible hand.
The clouds gathered again, and the sky gradually returned to normal.
But everyone in the training ground was still in shock.
On the arena, Bai Yujing watched as the sword energy that stretched across the sky slowly dissipated, and as Qin Mu sheathed his sword, his pupils contracted slightly.
He felt no fear, but rather a surge of unprecedented, almost fiery, fighting spirit.
What he had waited for his whole life had finally appeared.
He took a deep breath, and a slow smile spread across his face, revealing a smile completely different from his usual gentle demeanor—the kind of smile a sword fanatic would have when he finally found a worthy opponent, unrestrained, frank, and without any pretense.
"What a fine sword!"
He muttered something under his breath, then raised the jade-white longsword in his hand again.
His demeanor changed at that moment.