Chapter 148: The Duel at Sword Lake (Part I)

The phantom ignored the crowd and spoke, "Here we test sword intent. The victor shall receive a single stance of sword technique."

To be able to acquire a sword technique from a Sword Immortal thrilled everyone. What realm did a Sword Immortal possess? A simple thrust, a sweep, or a lift contained infinite variations. Just observing the phantom of the Sword Immortal allowed everyone to comprehend different sword intents. If one could master this technique from the Sword Immortal, it would undoubtedly become one's ultimate trump card.

Everyone rolled up their sleeves, eagerly waiting for the Sword Immortal to announce the rules of the trial.

"The sword intent trial has nothing to do with spiritual power, cultivation, or spiritual artifacts. When one party concedes, the trial ends." After saying this, the phantom spoke no more.

Everyone was already accustomed to this. After all, this was merely a phantom of the Sword Immortal. There were twelve people present in total, and to have reached this place, none of them were ordinary. To defeat the other eleven could truly be described as supremely difficult.

With nothing else being tested except sword intent, Zhou Qi's hopes were also kindled. If cultivation were the metric, he would have stood no chance whatsoever, with slim hopes against any single person.

In the center of the plaza, a sudden force emerged, pushing everyone toward the edges.

Was this going to be a gauntlet or a melee? The crowd was puzzled. While they were wondering how things would unfold, Huangfu Xiu was involuntarily pulled into the center by a force.

Appearing simultaneously was one of the two cultivators who had arrived last—a tall and thin cultivator whose narrow eyes emitted a chilling glare.

"Show 'em your best, Xiu'er!" Zhou Qi shouted toward Huangfu Xiu. The two of them simultaneously patted their chests and gave each other a thumbs-up.

Huangfu Ruo, who was about to cheer for Huangfu Xiu, stopped mid-motion. It was too humiliating!

Huangfu Xiu felt that his spiritual power and spells were no longer accessible, and the tall, thin cultivator felt the same. The two exchanged polite bows and sat down cross-legged.

Huangfu Xiu stimulated the sword intent he had comprehended. A magnificent and mighty sword intent surged outward from his entire body. His sword intent was unrestrained and elegant, not aiming to kill, but purely to be free-spirited.

The tall, thin cultivator did not dare to be careless, releasing his own comprehended sword intent as well. His sword intent was concentrated at a single point, embodying the intent of a fatal blow derived from the Sword Immortal.

Although neither used a physical sword, the collision of their sword intents still produced the ringing sound of blades.

"I concede." After just a brief moment of collision, the tall, thin cultivator spoke up.

Huangfu Xiu was puzzled. Weren't they evenly matched?

"The sword intent I comprehended is a fatal strike. Failing to defeat the opponent in one move means I have already lost." The tall, thin cultivator was very carefree. He withdrew his sword intent, and the two were once again pushed back to their original spots by that invisible force.

In the second match, unexpectedly, Daofan and Daohui were chosen. Both were startled for a moment, not expecting to face each other so early. Knowing each other inside and out and harboring mutual hostility for years, they had never truly had a proper showdown. Even in a trial of sword intent, neither wished to lose.

"Brother Daohui, beat that eunuch to the ground!" Zhou Qi cheered them on.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, because he doesn't even have one, haha..." Daohui laughed heartily.

Daofan was furious. These two always pressed the sorest spots. "I hope you can still laugh in a moment."

The two exchanged no further words. Enemies meeting each other inflamed mutual hatred. Though each looked down on the other inwardly, neither dared to be careless in their hearts.

As soon as they sat down, boundless sword intent surged forth. Daofan's sword intent was filled with killing intent, stopping at nothing.

Meanwhile, Daohui's sword intent resembled a solitary boat amidst a vast ocean, striving to brave the wind and waves and carve out a bloody path.

"Pfft!" Daohui spat out a mouthful of blood, having already been injured by Daofan's sword intent.

Zhou Qi was alarmed. Both of their aptitudes and insights were top-tier; why was Daofan's sword intent so terrifying? "Brother Daohui..." Zhou Qi said with concern.

Daofan was reveling in his triumph when, unexpectedly, although Daohui was injured, his sword intent broke through Daofan's defenses, forcing the latter to emit a muffled grunt.

Just as Daofan was about to gather his sword intent again to strike down his opponent, Daohui did not give him the chance, resolutely conceding defeat. This left Daofan punching empty air, feeling utterly wretched.

Shu Bing versus Huangfu Ruo. Huangfu Xiu was extremely worried; if either of them got hurt, it would pain him greatly.

Shu Bing and Huangfu Ruo had fought a match previously to a standstill. At this moment, both were harboring a pent-up fire, eager to vindicate themselves.

A freezing sword intent erupted from Shu Bing, sweeping toward Huangfu Ruo.

Huangfu Ruo's sword intent, true to her name, carried a tenacious resilience amidst its gentle softness.

The moment their sword intents made contact, it was like sharp points meeting hard awns. The icy sword intent rushed straight toward Huangfu Ruo, only to be entangled by a soft and pliant sword intent.

Huangfu Xiu watched with his heart in his throat, unable to speak out to cheer for either of them.

"I concede. I am not losing to you; I simply don't want Brother Xiu to worry," Huangfu Ruo said coldly.

Shu Bing remained noncommittal, uttered not a word, and was pushed aside by that force.

Huangfu Xiu finally let out a sigh of relief. He could face either Shu Bing or Zhou Qi, but if those two ended up fighting each other, what would happen? He began to worry anew.

The next match saw Lixing and Jiang Yiyi appear in the center. Zhou Qi's heart tightened as well, fearing that Lixing would vent his resentment toward Zhou Qi upon Jiang Yiyi.

"I concede," Jiang Yiyi said. Lixing's desire to win was far too strong, and he insisted on comparing himself to others in everything. If she defeated him, heaven knew what kind of madness he might exhibit, and if she lost to him, he would likely become even more arrogant.

After all, he was the Holy Son of the Heavenly Dao Sect, while she was the Holy Maiden. So be it, she decided to let him win.

"I do not need your concession, nor do I need your pity!" Lixing roared, having comprehended something from Jiang Yiyi's complex gaze.

Jiang Yiyi did not reply, and the two were already pushed aside by the force within the plaza.

Next, a young monk appeared in the plaza, facing one of the late arrivals—a short and stout cultivator.

"This poor monk's Dharma name is Yuantong. Greetings, fellow daoist," the young monk said, making a palms-together bow.

Yuantong? Zhou Qi almost burst out laughing. Seeing others look over, Zhou Qi hurriedly suppressed his amusement.

Yuantong was slightly dazed. Was he really that funny?

"Zhou Qi, what are you laughing at?" Gao Shiyu asked curiously.

Zhou Qi waved his hand and said, "I suddenly thought of something funny, it's nothing!"

While Yuantong was polite, the short and stout cultivator showed no courtesy whatsoever. "I care not who you are. I came here to contend for opportunities, not to make friends. Come, fight!"

Seeing this, Yuantong said no more, still smiling as he made a palms-together bow. Although his words had been courteous, his strike was not the least bit slow. A surging sword intent surged toward the cultivator in an instant.

Before the cultivator could recover his wits, he was completely engulfed by the sword intent.

"Ah..." He let out a miserable scream. His internal organs were pierced through by the sword intent, and his dantian was shattered by it as well.

"You..." Spouting blood, he pointed with difficulty at Yuantong, his head slumped to one side, and he collapsed to the ground, evidently beyond saving.

Yuantong shook his head, pressed his palms together, and sighed. "I did not expect the fellow daoist to be so fragile. My strike was too heavy. Amitabha!"

The crowd was shocked. This was the first time someone had died in a trial of sword intent. They had not expected that cultivator to perish without even having time to shout a concession. As they looked once more upon Yuantong's benign and smiling face, a secret vigilance arose in their hearts.

Courteous in speech, yet vicious in action—was there any reason to take a life in a trial of sword intent?

Yuantong was pushed back to his original spot, while the deceased cultivator was pushed into the lake and vanished from sight.