# 458
Chapter 458 – Live Combat Training
The bowls were scraped clean. Zhou Ping glanced at the time and spoke slowly:
“Time for the afternoon session.”
“Sword-Saint, what are we doing this afternoon? Please don’t say it’s another movie…” Baili Pangpang couldn’t help asking.
“No.” Zhou Ping shook his head. “This afternoon—live combat training.”
The moment they heard “live combat training,” everyone’s eyes lit up.
Here it comes!
The long-awaited chance to fight alongside the Sword-Saint was finally here!
So far this “comprehensive education” had been nothing like they’d imagined. A whole morning spent reading novels had left Lin Qiye and the others feeling deflated; now, at last, they’d reached the practical part. Every one of them perked up.
“Sword-Saint, how will the training work?” Lin Qiye asked.
Zhou Ping hesitated. “I’m still unfamiliar with you all. Today we’ll start with one-on-one duels.”
Duels?
Lin Qiye and the others exchanged glances.
“Sword-Saint, the strongest among us is only at the Sea Realm, while you’re a Human Apex… how is this a fight?”
“Relax, I won’t go all-out.” Zhou Ping spoke calmly. “Only by crossing blades can I see what each of you lacks.”
Cao Yuan nodded, stood up from his small stool, and said, “Then let’s begin?”
“Not yet. Before training starts, there’s something very important to do.” Zhou Ping’s gaze swept over their puzzled faces, and he enunciated:
“Wash the dishes.”
…
Ten minutes later.
Zhou Ping walked out of the kitchen, a few water spots on his black shirt. He rolled his sleeves down and returned to the open space.
Lin Qiye and the others had already moved the tables and chairs aside and were waiting.
“Who’s first?” Zhou Ping asked.
Cao Yuan stepped forward. “I’ll go.”
Zhou Ping nodded.
Seeing Cao Yuan about to move, Lin Qiye and the rest retreated to the edge of the warehouse to avoid getting hurt by the berserker Cao Yuan. Baili Pangpang even pulled several packets of crisps from his pocket, handed them around, and looked ready to enjoy the show.
“Attack,” Zhou Ping said calmly.
Cao Yuan noticed Zhou Ping’s empty hands and asked uncertainly, “Sword-Saint, where’s your sword?”
Unhurriedly, Zhou Ping pulled a wooden chopstick from his pocket. “A real sword might injure you. This is enough.”
Cao Yuan opened his mouth as if to remind him of something, but remembering the man before him was a Human Apex, the famed Sword-Saint, he swallowed the words.
“Forgive me.” Cao Yuan drew a deep breath and slowly unsheathed his blade.
Clang—!
The Straight Blade came free. Black bale-fire instantly cloaked Cao Yuan’s body. His scarlet eyes locked onto Zhou Ping, a savage grin spreading across his face.
“Hehehehe…”
Zhou Ping’s brows lifted slightly at the sight, seemingly surprised.
He didn’t know much about Forbidden Ruins; the name 【Black King’s Annihilation Slash】 meant nothing to him. But it didn’t matter—whatever the Ruins, he only needed to swing his sword at the enemy before him.
The berserk Cao Yuan flickered, blurring through the air, and in an eye-blink arrived in front of Zhou Ping.
The Straight Blade, wrapped in black bale-fire, slashed down!
Zhou Ping gazed calmly into those scarlet eyes, lifted the chopstick, and lightly parried the strike. The black flames surged but never touched his clothes.
A flick of his wrist.
Ding—!!
A clear sword-cry rang from the chopstick; a beam of sword-energy sent the Straight Blade flying from the berserker’s grip. Zhou Ping’s elbow rose and smashed into Cao Yuan’s shoulder, hammering him into the ground.
Cao Yuan lay there, struggling furiously, but the tip of the chopstick rested gently between his brows.
The black bale-fire vanished.
The beaten, swollen-faced Cao Yuan stared up at Zhou Ping, stunned that his Black King state had been broken so easily.
Forced out of the Black King form by sheer beating—this was a first.
The four spectators froze.
Baili Pangpang looked at the single-and-a-half crisp in his hand, mouth agape… That fast?
From draw to finish, six seconds at most?
All with one chopstick…
This was the Sword-Saint?
Zhou Ping walked over, picked up the thrown Straight Blade, and tossed it back.
Cao Yuan caught it blankly. “Sword-Saint, this is…?”
“Draw again. Keep attacking until I say stop.” Zhou Ping’s voice was flat.
Cao Yuan: …
He had no choice. He drew once more, turned berserk, and slashed.
A few seconds later he was flattened again.
Draw!
Flattened…
That day, Cao Yuan drew his blade sixteen times. Each bout lasted under seven seconds, so the mental drain was small, but by the final draws the others could hear his manic laughter growing weaker…
On the sixteenth, he could barely laugh at all.
When the sixteenth ended, Zhou Ping finally let the battered Cao Yuan rest.
Swollen and limping, Cao Yuan shuffled back to the warehouse wall, eyes glazed, looking as though life had lost all meaning.
Baili Pangpang quietly set down his crisps.
Watching Cao Yuan’s misery, he realized this training wouldn’t be easy; the snacks suddenly tasted like cardboard.
“Next.” Zhou Ping turned to the pale Baili Pangpang. “You.”
Baili Pangpang shuddered, hesitated, then reluctantly stood and trudged toward the center, his back radiating the tragic air of a hero never to return.
Training began.
Before Zhou Ping could move, Baili Pangpang yanked a dozen forbidden artifacts from his pockets and suspended them around himself. The green-jade thumb-ring became full-body armor; layer upon layer of shields unfolded until he was a human tortoise, wrapped airtight.
Zhou Ping’s mouth twitched.
Once his defenses were maxed, a giant Taiji Eight-Trigram diagram spread beneath Baili Pangpang’s feet. He pressed the air, and Qian and Kun trigrams flipped.
“Heaven-Earth Reversal!” he shouted. “Chopstick, come!”
Zhou Ping, caught off guard, watched the chopstick fly from his hand into Baili Pangpang’s grasp.