Chapter 20: The Sword Mirrors the Man (Part 1)
Chen Changsheng’s sword pierced Zhou Ziheng’s chest with such ease, as if that Star Domain had never existed at all.
Those who understood what it meant to reach the Star Condensation realm were astonished, utterly shocked.
Chen Changsheng himself was not surprised. He was calm, just as Xue Xingchuan and those important figures had been shocked earlier. From start to finish, the rhythm of this battle had been under his control.
For human cultivators, being able to condense a Star Domain was arguably the most crucial process. Only by successfully gathering stars and gaining immensely powerful defenses could one fight on equal footing with demon elites, whose physical conditions were nearly perfect. Human society had even held a deeply ingrained belief: a cultivator with a Star Domain was naturally invincible against one without. So when Zhou Ziheng formed his Star Domain, everyone thought Chen Changsheng was surely defeated. They assumed his continued thrust was merely a form of spiritual self-comfort, a random strike.
Zhou Ziheng thought so too.
But Chen Changsheng never thought that way. Because his sword techniques were self-taught, bound by no rules. He never believed—or rather, never knew—that a sword from a lower realm could not break a Star Domain.
Later, he studied swordsmanship under Su Li, and even more so, there were no rules. In fact, the very first sword Su Li taught him was how to break the Star Domain of a Star Condensation realm expert.
Naturally, this was the first sword he learned from Su Li on the wilderness: the Wisdom Sword.
A few days earlier, at dawn, Tianhai Ya’er had come to the front gate of the National Academy and hurled abuse. Zhou Ziheng stood silently beside his wheelchair, and the following days were the same.
Chen Changsheng did nothing. Everyone thought he was enduring, waiting for the Li Palace to intervene, and later assumed he was waiting for Tang Thirty-Six to emerge from the Mausoleum of Books.
Yes, he was indeed waiting, but he was also preparing—especially after learning that the two Holy See Archbishops had once again proposed the Academy Tournament targeting the National Academy.
For this one strike, he had prepared for a long time. Through Priest Xin, he had gathered extensive information about Zhou Ziheng. While foul language echoed before the National Academy’s gate, he read in the library—studying the history of the Zhechong Hall, the tales of the Ancestral Sacrifice Institute, and the sword technique known as the Lonely Boat Wind and Rain Sword. He learned about Zhou Ziheng’s life experiences, knowing this man to be cold, greedy, selfish, and fame-seeking. He found records of Zhou Ziheng’s seven battles, learned that his left shoulder had once suffered a severe injury, and discovered that his favorite dish was the crab from Chenghu Tower.
Countless details about Zhou Ziheng filled Chen Changsheng’s mind. In some respects, he even understood Zhou Ziheng better than Zhou Ziheng understood himself.
These pieces of information converged in his mind, then began to be sorted, categorized, and subsequently calculated and deduced.
He needed to find the weaknesses in Zhou Ziheng’s sword technique, and more importantly, identify the flaws in Zhou Ziheng’s Star Domain in advance.
The real Star Domains in the night sky constantly left gaps as they moved, let alone a human’s Star Domain. Back on the wilderness, facing Xue He or Liang Hongzhuang, he could find the weaknesses in their Star Domains just as the sword was about to strike. This time, after calculating and deducing for so long within the National Academy, breaking Zhou Ziheng’s Star Domain was hardly surprising—failing to do so would have been the real anomaly.
So he found it, and then he broke it.
The Wisdom Sword was not a sword; it was a method of combat through calculation and deduction. From the earlier silence, to the sudden agreement yesterday, to the clumsy sword earlier, to retreating before the stone steps, to revealing the faint morning light before the birdsong, to unleashing the torrential rain before the swallows flew low—all of this was the Wisdom Sword.
The actual sword move he used was the most ordinary one from the National Education True Sword, called “Night Rain Sounds Annoying.”
Zhou Ziheng’s Star Domain, though beautiful in form, was not solid.
This was the weakness Chen Changsheng had deduced.
As for the specific location, it was right before his feet.
With one strike of “Night Rain Sounds Annoying,” the sword fell like rain, thrusting straight toward Zhou Ziheng’s blue robe below the knee—but it pierced into his chest.
With a *puchi* sound, blood spurted out.
Zhou Ziheng’s face turned pale, his eyes filled with terror and disbelief.
With a sharp howl, he transformed into a gust of wind and rain, retreating swiftly into the depths of Baihua Lane.
Chen Changsheng’s sword had not fully entered his chest. He thought it was because his own true essence was insufficient.
Though severely wounded, Zhou Ziheng still had the strength to fight. If he could only shake off Chen Changsheng’s strike, he would have a chance to counterattack.
A fierce wind arose. Facing the threat of death, Zhou Ziheng erupted with unimaginable energy, forcibly breaking through the formation laid by the Li Palace priests and retreating to the main street.
This was a distance of over a hundred zhang from the National Academy’s gate.
Yet still, he could not shake off Chen Changsheng and the sword in his hand.
Zhou Ziheng suddenly remembered he had forgotten something.
Before this trial of swords, the Tianhai family had prepared a great deal of information about Chen Changsheng for him. Though he had only glanced at it out of confidence, he recalled that this youth, through some unknown fortune, had learned the demon race’s Yeshi Step. Though not the true, perfect Yeshi Step, it could elevate his speed to a terrifying degree.
Under normal circumstances, Zhou Ziheng would have countless ways to deal with this. But now, panicked and focused only on retreating, how could he remember such things?
Zhou Ziheng was like a boat on the vast ocean, constantly rising and falling, retreating.
Chen Changsheng was like the seawater of that ocean, always following him, never a step behind.
Amid panicked shouts, the crowd scattered, retreating to both ends of the long street.
When the wind stilled, Chen Changsheng and Zhou Ziheng stood in the middle of the street.
The important figures in the awning released their auras to prevent the clash of battle energies from harming ordinary citizens.
But it was unnecessary.
Chen Changsheng’s sword had already pierced through Zhou Ziheng’s chest.
Blood dripped continuously along the blade.
Xue Xingchuan, watching this scene from the tea house, was once again speechless.
Zhou Ziheng’s judgment was not wrong. Chen Changsheng could wield too little true essence, so his sword’s momentum was weak. Xue Xingchuan could clearly see this as well. So even though he confirmed that Chen Changsheng’s sword technique indeed came from that man, he did not believe that after breaking Zhou Ziheng’s Star Domain, the sword could still possess much power.
Chen Changsheng’s sword once again overturned so-called common sense. Though clearly not strong, it effortlessly pierced through Zhou Ziheng’s body.
Why?
“It’s not that violent sword technique of burning life essence from Xunyang City.”
At the other end of the street, inside a dim carriage, an official quickly scribbled something on paper.
Looking through the window at the scene, he thought for a moment and then wrote another line on the paper.
“Perhaps there’s something strange about that sword.”
A faint, soft sound.
Chen Changsheng withdrew his sword.
Zhou Ziheng clutched his chest and collapsed onto the street.
Members of the Qingyao Thirteen Divisions had long been waiting nearby and hurried forward to treat his wounds.
Zhou Ziheng was in pain, yet also bewildered. Looking at Chen Changsheng, he asked, “What… what sword is this?”
The street fell silent.
The surrounding crowd, the people under the awning, and Xue Xingchuan in the tea house all awaited Chen Changsheng’s answer.
Chen Changsheng looked at the sword in his hand. Blood flowed down the blade, leaving not a single drop behind. The blade became bright again, spotless.
This short sword was given to him by Senior Brother Yuren. Now, within it resided the sword soul of Chen Xuanba’s Dragon Roar Sword from years past.
But he was ultimately not Chen Xuanba. He had to forge his own sword intent.
From the Zhou Garden to the Snow Plain, from Xunyang City to the capital, his sword intent had finally reached maturity.
Then this sword should have its own name.
Chen Changsheng thought for a moment and said, “Let’s call it… Stainless.”
(It’s been a long time since I’ve done three updates. Really not used to it. Tired, but at least it’s done. See you all tomorrow.)