Chapter 187 | The Sword Fanatic’s Measure

Chapter 187: 187 | The Sword Fanatic’s Measure

Gao Chen stood outside the gate of Cloud-Sea Pavilion with his long sword resting against his shoulder.

His expression was calm, carrying none of the arrogance Wei Chang had once brought to this same gate. A few passing disciples slowed when they recognized the third-ranked Core Disciple, but none dared approach.

Lin Tian stepped out a moment later. The Profound Void-Yang Blade remained wrapped across his back. His face showed no surprise.

Gao Chen cupped his fists.

"Lin Tian. I am Gao Chen."

"I know."

Gao Chen nodded once. "I have no interest in crippling you or stealing your tournament slot. I only want to test the strength behind that blade. Would you accept a spar?"

Lin Tian looked at him for a short moment. He studied the man’s stance, the way his sword rested at a natural angle, the quiet focus in his eyes. This was a swordsman who lived for the blade. His challenge carried no malice, only genuine curiosity.

"The practice platform beside the eastern training hall," Lin Tian said. "No referee. No official record."

"Agreed."

---

The practice platform was small and plain, meant for daily drills rather than public spectacle. By the time they arrived, word had spread through the nearby courtyards. Around fifteen disciples gathered at the edges, keeping their distance and their voices low.

Gao Chen stepped onto the platform first and drew his long sword. Sharp Peak Foundation aura spread from his body, and thin threads of Sword Intent gathered around the blade like invisible cutting wires.

"I will use the Piercing Wind Sword Art," he said clearly. "If you cannot withstand it, concede early."

Lin Tian walked to the opposite side and stopped with his hands loose at his sides.

"Begin."

Gao Chen moved at once.

His figure blurred as he shot forward, and the Piercing Wind Sword Art unfolded in a series of rapid thrusts aimed for Lin Tian’s shoulders, chest, and throat in quick succession. The speed made several watching disciples step back, and the Sword Intent left fine cuts in the air itself.

Lin Tian shifted half a step left, tilted his frame slightly, and let the first wave pass with only a thin cut in his sleeve.

Gao Chen’s eyes sharpened. He immediately changed rhythm, combining footwork with continuous thrusts that crossed and layered to seal the space around Lin Tian.

This time Lin Tian reached back and drew the Profound Void-Yang Blade halfway. A heavy pressure spread across the platform, dense and physical, making the air feel thicker. Gao Chen’s next thrust wavered for a fraction of a second as the pressure pressed against his Sword Intent.

Lin Tian turned the heavy blade and blocked.

A deep metallic clash rang out.

Gao Chen was forced a step backward, his wrists trembling slightly from the impact. The difference in pure physical foundation was already clear.

"Again," Gao Chen said, his eyes burning with focus.

He pressed forward and poured more Qi into his sword, launching a fuller sequence of the Piercing Wind Sword Art. The attacks became faster and more concentrated, aiming to break through the heavy pressure by pure sharpness and speed. His footwork was precise, each step placing him at the optimal angle for the next thrust.

Lin Tian finally drew the Profound Void-Yang Blade completely.

The dark-gold weapon rested in his hand with natural weight. He stepped forward and swung using the full power of his Primordial Yang-Tyrant Body, each movement simple, direct, and extremely heavy.

The two styles collided.

Gao Chen’s sharp sword lights tried to pierce through openings while Lin Tian’s heavy blade crushed those openings shut with pure force. Sparks flew each time the weapons met. The stone tiles under their feet cracked in several places.

After several exchanges, Gao Chen managed to slip a thrust past Lin Tian’s guard. The tip of his sword caught the edge of Lin Tian’s outer robe, slicing a clean line through the fabric. A thin mark appeared on the skin beneath, drawing a single bead of blood.

Lin Tian glanced at the cut. A faint curve touched his lips.

"Good."

Gao Chen’s breathing had grown heavier, but his Sword Intent remained sharp. Every clash sent numbing force up his arms, and he could feel it clearly now. Lin Tian’s physical foundation was far denser than any ordinary Peak Foundation cultivator.

"One last strike," Gao Chen said through clenched teeth.

He gathered nearly all of his remaining Qi into the tip of his sword, and the Piercing Wind Sword Art condensed into a single, extremely sharp thrust aimed straight at Lin Tian’s chest.

Lin Tian stepped in to meet it.

He brought the Profound Void-Yang Blade down with the full weight of his body behind it, and the heavy blade met the concentrated sword thrust in mid air. For a short moment both forces pushed against each other, and then Gao Chen’s attack collapsed under the greater weight. The impact forced him several steps back across the platform until he dropped to one knee, sword tip pressed against the stone to keep himself upright.

Silence held the small gathering.

Gao Chen remained kneeling for a breath, then let out a short laugh and stood up. He sheathed his sword and cupped his fists toward Lin Tian.

"I lost."

His voice was steady and open.

"Your foundation is far above mine. That strength cannot be matched by ordinary Peak Foundation cultivatore."

Lin Tian returned the blade to its wrapping. He looked at the thin cut on his arm where Gao Chen’s sword had landed.

"Your Sword Intent is sharp," Lin Tian said. "The third thrust in your second sequence nearly broke my guard. The angle was correct."

Gao Chen blinked. He had not expected analysis. He had expected dismissal.

"If you widen the entry angle by two degrees," Lin Tian continued, "the thrust will carry more weight behind the tip. Your current form sacrifices power for speed. Against heavier opponents, that trade fails."

Gao Chen stared at him for a long moment. Then he inclined his head deeply.

"I will remember."

He turned and left the platform with steady steps. The fifteen watching disciples parted silently to let him pass. No one mocked him. The strength he had shown was real. He had simply met someone whose physical foundation stood on a higher level.

Lin Tian watched him go.

Gao Chen was different from Wei Chang. There was no jealousy, no desperation, no need to humiliate. He was a man who loved the sword and wanted to measure himself against something real. That made him useful. A man who respected strength could become an ally. A man who envied it would always become an enemy.

Wei Chang had chosen envy.

Gao Chen had chosen respect.

Lin Tian turned back toward Cloud-Sea Pavilion. The thin cut on his arm had already stopped bleeding beneath the Primordial Yang-Tyrant Body’s regeneration. Six days remained until the Regional Tournament.

One challenger had been measured. The bracket was still forming. And somewhere on Alchemy Peak, Elder Liu was sealing the last of her pills, searching for a reason to send a message.