52 – Acclimatizing

I squeezed my hand, and the perfectly solid earth cube I had just formed crumbled into fine dust between my fingers. Scattered around me were dozens more piles of dust and perfectly cube-shaped holes in the ground.

“Well… guess the body tempering worked,” I commented dryly.

I still couldn’t believe that fucking old man had literally thrown me into a boiling pot of medicinal chili. If I had to suffer, I at least wanted to be informed beforehand.

For now, I focused on getting used to my new strength. I formed another cube and began passing it rapidly between my hands, gradually increasing the distance. Everything felt like an egg. Fragile and ridiculously easy to crush.

“Danxing.”

“SHAAAAA!” I leapt to my feet, fist raised, hissing like a cornered snake.

“It’s been a month,” my father said calmly. “Still upset about that?”

“You tortured me!” I shouted.

He glanced at the numerous cube-shaped holes and piles of dust surrounding me. “You seem to have discovered the benefits.”

“I had the right to know what was going to happen!” I protested.

“Would you have agreed if I told you upfront that you would be burned alive, frozen solid, and electrocuted for three full days?”

“That was three entire days!?” I asked, flabbergasted.

My father ignored the outburst. “Would you have agreed? Or would you have said ‘tomorrow,’ ‘next time,’ or ‘maybe later’?”

I cringed as he perfectly mimicked my usual tone of complaints. Damn it. Called out.

“…No,” I finally admitted. “But I still demand compensation!”

A heavy pouch immediately flew into my hands. Inside were another thousand spirit stones along with a generous pile of gold and silver coins.

“Forgiven.” I quickly stored the pouch away. Am rich.

“Now come along,” my father said, already walking off.

“To where?”

“To help you get used to your new body,” he explained. “Unless you’d rather spend the next year crushing dirt cubes.”

I jogged after him without hesitation.

“Can I join in educating my junior brother?” a female voice called out.

I glanced to the side. Senior Sister Hanhua had appeared beside us. I looked back at my father, who simply shrugged.

—

Unfortunately, we weren’t in a private training room. We were standing in the middle of the sect’s public arena. The same one used for inner disciple rankings and challenges. Being outdoors meant there were plenty of spectators. I could already feel dozens of curious and amused gazes on me.

Great. I’m definitely going to embarrass myself here.

On the opposite side of the arena, Senior Sister Hanhua had already drawn her sword, its blade gleaming coldly. I glanced toward the stands, my father sat comfortably among the inner disciples and other spectators. Casually joining the bets some inner disciples started. Of course Tianjiao was right there beside him. Snack in hand. Did he bet along too? Yes he did.

“Aren’t we here so I can get used to my new strength?” I asked uncertainly.

“Correct,” Hanhua replied. “Now draw your sword.”

“…Must we use swords?”

“What’s better than a sword?” she asked, as if the answer was obvious.

Oh. Okay. She’s a sword puritan. The rabid ones that will claim this sword is better than that sword. I bet she will call other types of swords than the one she or the mainstream use as barbarian swords.

“Don’t worry,” She goaded. “I promise to not use any Qi.” 

Now then, swords. I did play some VR games that feature sword playing. It does have tutorials on sword forms and I am confident I remember and can use the forms but even with advanced haptic feedback, plenty of reviewers criticized the lack of weight even at max setting.

So I project a greatsword. The one that I most use in the game. Complete with wide cross guard and parrying hooks. I held it with my two arms near my shoulder, feeling the weight. Adding a little more weight to the sword as it is too light. Then some more until it felt having a somewhat realistic weight in my hand.

“What a barbaric sword.” 

There it is.

“Yes yes. Moving on.” I compare my sword to hers. Her sword seems like a one handed sword. Though the blades are a little bit longer than the usual shortsword with a very small crossguard.

“Ready.”

—

Hanhua lunged forward without warning, faster than Jianxin had ever moved. But thanks to the body tempering, Danxing could actually see her approach clearly. His reactions felt sharper, more explosive.

He brought his greatsword down in a powerful overhead swing. Hanhua tried to deflect it with her blade, but he thrust and twisted at the last moment, catching her sword between the ragged parrying hooks of his crossguard. With a surge of newfound strength, he yanked hard, flinging her across the arena. She flew a considerable distance but landed gracefully on her feet.

Only then did Danxing notice the deep, jagged gash his swing had left in the arena floor.

“Haha!” He laughed, baring four rows of sharp teeth in his deer skull maw. A wild surge of confidence flooded through him.

“You said you had never held a sword before,” Hanhua accused, her voice cold.

“Real ones? No,” Danxing replied casually. “Doesn’t mean I never used them.”

The brief exchange drew whispers from the spectators. Though Hanhua was fully masked and cloaked, Danxing could sense her irritation rising. So she decided to not give him any more grace.

In the next instant, Hanhua became a silver blur. Her slender blade danced like falling petals in a storm. Fast, precise, and relentless. She closed the distance in a heartbeat, launching a flurry of strikes aimed at his wrists, shoulders, and gaps in his guard. Each thrust and slash carried deadly intent.

Danxing was forced onto the defensive. Twice her size with a massive greatsword, he relied on raw reach and power to keep her at bay. He swung in wide, sweeping arcs, using the sheer weight and length of his weapon to create zones she couldn’t easily enter. Every time her sword flickered toward him, he barely managed to intercept it with a heavy parry or a sweeping counter. The impact of each clash sent vibrations up his arms, but his newly tempered body held firm.

Slowly, almost unconsciously, old habits from the VR games began resurfacing. He shifted his stance, using the parrying hooks more effectively to trap and redirect her blade. His footwork grew smoother, transitioning from clumsy power swings to more controlled, flowing motions. He was still barely keeping up, Hanhua’s speed was terrifying, but he was keeping up. Fighting defensively and area denial is the greatsword’s specialty.

Hanhua pressed harder, a whirlwind of silver light, clearly surprised that her junior brother hadn’t been overwhelmed yet.

As their swords clashed again and again, mutual understanding formed between them. Hanhua’s growing irritation and surprise were plain to Danxing through the rhythm of their exchanges. In turn, Hanhua could clearly sense how much her junior brother was enjoying this. Treating the spar like some casual game. He never pressed his advantage, content to defend and match her pace. That realization infuriated her even more.

Swiftly she withdraws, so that her junior brother doesn’t sense her anger. Now, she also has advantages. From their brief exchange, it was obvious he relied on crude, barbaric mortal swordplay. And the other,

“So that’s the fastest you can go,” Hanhua said, her voice dripping with confidence.

“Hmm?” Danxing noticed the sudden shift in her aura.

Without another word, she exploded forward, twice as fast as before. Her family’s sword arts pushed to their limit. Three lightning-fast strikes lanced toward him from different angles, all aimed at disarming him.

But something impossible happened.

Three separate greatswords parried her attacks simultaneously. Danxing had projected two additional pairs of arms, each wielding its own massive blade. The extra limbs moved in perfect coordination, compensating for his lack of raw speed.

“Whoa there…”

Hate and jealousy surged within Hanhua’s chest.

With a sharp cry, she unleashed an upward slash heavy with Sword Intent. The invisible blade of will sliced cleanly through all three projected greatswords. The latter however, finally realized what is happening. His joy fades as his deer skull cracked into a wolf one.

“That was uncalled for,” Danxing said, his tone flat as he tried to suppress his anger.

“I didn’t use any Qi,” Hanhua defended coldly. “It’s not my fault you weren’t prepared.”

“Of course I don’t. This is supposed to be training. Not an attempt to maim me.”

“Perhaps if you took this seriously instead of playing around, you would have been better prepared.”

“Oh yeah? What the fuck was that?”

“What? You don’t even know sword intent?” Hanhua mocks. “Very well, I will enlighten you.”

“Sword Intent is the manifestation of a cultivator’s will made sharp. It is not mere Qi or brute force. It is the pure, condensed will of the swordsman given form. Intent to shape a reality where you can cut anything. It is what separates true swordsmen from those who merely swing blades.”

“Is that so?” Danxing’s wolf skull turned into the serpent one. He only knows one insufferable know it all who likes to ‘educate’ those lower than them and he always hated them.

Condensed will. Intent shaping reality.

A sword was a weapon meant to cut. A cut was a line. How thin could a line be? As fine as an atom. How fast could that line be drawn? At the speed of light.

In his mind, he pictured one perfectly clean, vertical line.

Then he swung.

The downward slash was blindingly fast. Far too quick for even Hanhua to follow with her eyes.

TIIING!

A deafening ring of metal meeting metal exploded across the arena and reverberated throughout the entire Tianhe Sect. Every sword within a mile shuddered violently in its sheath, singing in resonance.

Hanhua was blasted off her feet, landing hard on her backside. Her body and Dao Heart trembled uncontrollably. Looming above her was a projected greatsword, vast and terrifying, capable of cleaving her in two. Only a single ordinary twig held it back, gripped casually in Xuan Luochen’s hand.

For every sword cultivator witnessing the scene, a tremor ran through their Dao Hearts.

What made all the swords in the sect resonate was undoubtedly Elder Xuan’s own overwhelming Sword Intent, demonstrated by stopping such a monstrous strike with nothing but a twig. But the deeper tremor came from Danxing’s swing itself. It was not true Sword Intent, every sword cultivator present could sense that clearly.

Instead, it was a crude yet terrifying mimicry. Using his powerful soul force and projection ability, Danxing had attempted to apply his own understanding of “cutting” to the extreme. The result was raw, unrefined, and lacking the profound will of true Sword Intent… yet frighteningly potent.

Luochen smiled warmly at his son. Heaven had not forsaken him after all. His adopted son possessed real talent with the sword. Even if it was currently just a mimicry, there was clear potential for him to master it properly in the future.

“Well, that’s that then.” Danxing casually tossed the greatsword over his shoulder. It clanged loudly against the ground before dissipating.

If only the boy would actually want to use one.

To Hanhua, however, her master’s proud smile and acknowledgment felt like a dagger to the heart. If she couldn’t even defeat this… this barbarian, how could she ever hope to achieve her revenge?

“Would you reconsider using a sword?” Luochen asked his son gently.

Hanhua felt the question squeeze her heart like a vice. For the greatest sword cultivator in the sect to personally invite someone to wield the sword was an honor beyond measure. And yet…

“Nah,” Danxing replied casually. “Still overrated in my opinion. Maybe as a backup weapon alongside my hammer.”

The words, spoken so dismissively, were utterly humiliating to those who had devoted their entire lives to the sword. But what shocked Hanhua even more was her master’s response.

“Good enough,” Luochen accepted without hesitation.

“Why don’t you use a sword as your main weapon?” Hanhua interjected, unable to contain herself. “What could possibly be better?”

Danxing shrugged. “Well, it is certainly different here. But swords are never the primary weapon ever in my homeworld’s history. A noble’s preferred weapon perhaps, some specialized designs were made, but other than that? Decorations.” Danxing explains.

“People always used spears and other polearms. But eventually, spears and polearms have their limits. So we have these.” Danxing projected a railgun. 

He projected a sleek, menacing railgun into his hands.

“Doesn’t require years of training. Anyone can use it.” He aimed it casually. “Once these are mass-produced, every other weapon becomes obsolete. We even made games about the horrific wars we fought with them.”

Then he points the gun down. “Then, more games where we use this against demons. And what can be pointed at demons…” and finally he pointed upwards. “Can be pointed at gods. To reach further than spears and bows. So that even the weak, the old, the children, and the unworthy can defend their freedom from anyone who tries to take it.”

Hanhua’s voice trembled with disbelief. “No. I cannot accept this.”

The sword was everything she had. Everything her parents had taught her, everything her little sister had once believed in.

Luochen finally spoke. “How about another round? First to land a hit wins.”

“Agreed,” Hanhua said instantly.

Danxing and his father exchanged a long look before Danxing reluctantly nodded.

Both combatants returned to their starting positions. Tianjiao waddled into the center of the arena as referee to make sure no more mishaps. Snacks still in hand, while new bets were hurriedly placed among the spectators.

Hanhua glared at her junior brother with burning determination. She would pour everything into this single strike! Her experience, her Sword Intent, her movement techniques, and every ounce of her Qi! Everything!

“Begin!” Tianjiao announced.

Hanhua hadn’t even taken a single step when she felt something wet land on her cloak, right above her head.

Danxing was already turning away and walking off.

Hanhua reached up and touched the spot. Blue paint.

The spar had ended as quickly as it began.