The God-Slaying Sword Art, one of Zhu Xia's eight great martial arts.
Since the dissolution of the Martial Arts Association, it had completely vanished from public view.
Now, it was down to a single successor, living in seclusion in a small village in Haizhou, no longer accepting disciples.
Like the other eight great arts, it had gradually become a relic of the past.
Not because they were ineffective, but because they couldn't adapt to the new era.
No matter how much substance they possessed, they couldn't catch the boat of the new age.
As for this sword art, Li Xiang was very interested.
After all, he was a sword user—how could he resist its allure?
But he was also self-aware.
He hadn't even fully grasped the basics of Beng Quan, and his Sword was still far from mastery.
What right did he have to learn the more profound God-Slaying Sword Art?
For now, he could only wait until he returned to Qingcheng and, under his senior sister's guidance, slowly study it alongside Greninja.
The most important thing wasn't for him to learn it, but for Greninja to learn it.
Just like the earlier techniques, the goal was to learn the techniques, not the set routines.
Unfortunately, Greninja couldn't wait any longer.
Ever since learning that the God-Slaying Sword Art had been obtained, it had been thinking about it every day.
Having spent a week on Shen Island before returning, it was even more impatient.
That was why it had eagerly carried the box and cornered Li Xiang in the kitchen.
"...Alright, let's just treat this as a preview."
Li Xiang looked at the longing on Greninja's face and couldn't bear to refuse.
The Greninja that was indifferent to most things, often withdrawn from the world and lost in its own thoughts, had rarely shown such enthusiasm for anything.
He should encourage that.
"Greninja!"
Greninja was overjoyed, trotting toward the living room.
It had already prepared the laptop and the video cables, waiting only for Li Xiang's consent to get everything set up.
Several other spectators were already seated in their spots, having found the best viewing angles.
"Wow, looks like you all came prepared."
Li Xiang glanced at the coffee table, seeing snacks and drinks ready—impressive.
The only thing was...
"You're a bird, what are you watching a sword art for?"
He tilted his head, scratching the fluffy feathers under Corviknight's chin in confusion.
The bird was curled up on the edge of the sofa, its massive frame impossible to ignore even when crouched low.
Its crimson eyes gleamed with anticipation, and in front of it sat its favorite stir-fried nuts.
It looked like a child being taken to the movies by its parents.
"Caww."
Corviknight squinted comfortably, completely ignoring what Li Xiang had said.
"Fine, as long as you're happy."
Li Xiang twitched his mouth, decided not to overthink it, and sat down in front of the computer.
He pulled the USB drive from the box, plugged it in, and opened the files.
Though Mo Ye was a man of few words, he was extremely reliable.
There were numerous videos, covering everything from multiple angles to slow-motion footage.
There was even a short clip of Mo Ye sparring with the God-Slaying Sword Art successor himself.
At first glance, it looked like a young, fit man bullying a white-haired old man.
The sparring itself was almost identical to historical fencing matches—plenty of hand-sniping, lightning-fast exchanges, and no drawn-out clashing of blades for half a minute without any result.
Often, the match was decided within ten seconds.
Of course, it wasn't a real sword fight. Everything was done with restraint, since it was just a spar.
The whole thing lasted about half an hour, ending only when the God-Slaying Sword Art successor ran out of stamina.
Interestingly, Mo Ye actually lost more rounds than he won.
Despite the successor's age, his swordsmanship was peculiar and effective—disarming, counter-cutting, parrying, and sliding into devastating cuts.
In slow motion, it looked like a martial arts film, and he won many early exchanges.
His reactions were fast; had age not dulled them at all?
But his strength and stamina were clearly inferior to Mo Ye's, so as the spar went on, he couldn't keep up and lost more and more.
In sword fighting, as in boxing, the young prevail.
Honestly, with that level of intensity, they fought for half an hour.
Li Xiang's hands had gone numb just from watching ten minutes.
And when their wooden swords actually shattered at one point, you could imagine the force behind each strike.
Still, after watching, Li Xiang felt a bit disappointed.
Because the God-Slaying Sword Art as shown in the sparring footage was undoubtedly a killing art.
"It's different from Pokémon battling."
Li Xiang leaned against Lucario's shoulder, hearing the crunch of popcorn from Incineroar and the others, and the tap-tap-tap of Corviknight cracking nuts.
The freeloaders were clearly enjoying themselves.
Pokémon battles were very different from human combat.
At the very least, human duels didn't produce explosions from energy clashes that sent fighters flying several meters apart.
The Pokémon MMA league even restricted energy usage for that reason.
The kind of blade-catch-counter and close-quarters disarming tactics shown in the video, unless performed at incredible speed, would likely just cause a chain of small explosions and smoke clouds in a Pokémon battle.
The requirements on Greninja's speed were simply too high.
Li Xiang turned to look at Greninja, cross-legged on the back of the sofa, its eyes full of stars.
Oh dear. It's already mesmerized.
Now what?
Li Xiang thought for a moment, deciding to check the basic theory first.
Maybe there was something special about it.
He opened another video.
The background was a small courtyard.
A middle-aged man in a dark robe, with graying hair and a ruddy nose, stood in the open space holding a wooden sword, his eyes slightly cloudy.
"The God-Slaying Sword slays gods before men. To slay the opponent's god, one must first slay one's own god."
The man's voice was a bit muffled but clear enough.
He was explaining the foundational theory of the art.
Slaying gods—did it mean slaying divine beasts? The formless deities worshipped in rituals?
No. It meant slaying the opponent's "god."
The art's founder believed that every person harbored a god within, governing the seven emotions and six desires, determining their actions.
The goal of the God-Slaying Sword Art was to kill the opponent's god without harming the body, defeating them without bloodshed.
But that was a much later stage.
The initial goal was simply to strike the opponent's god, causing brief loss of control.
In modern terms, "god" broadly referred to the opponent's will and consciousness.
But back when the art was conceived, such vocabulary didn't exist, so they called it "god."
Why had Mo Ye, despite being younger and stronger, reacted so much slower than his opponent in the spar?
Because his god had been struck by the God-Slaying Sword successor.
His will couldn't command his body in time, causing delayed reactions.
So, it wasn't that the successor had faster reflexes—it was that Mo Ye's reactions had been slowed down.
Hearing this, Li Xiang almost thought he was watching a video of Master Ma, the Tai Chi master.
But then he recalled the Three-Blind Perception Method and his martial arts brothers and sisters, each more inhuman than the last, and he kept watching.
After explaining the theory, the middle-aged man described the training method for the God-Slaying Sword Art.
The art emphasized intent over technique.
This was also why it was said to be adaptable to one-sword, two-sword, or even three-sword styles—and theoretically, any number of swords—with ease.
In truth, saying it didn't emphasize technique was misleading.
Its swordsmanship was still top-tier.
Its development in both areas made its strengths so prominent that it became one of Zhuxia's eight great martial arts.
Regarding training, the God-Slaying Sword Art taught that to slay others, one must first slay oneself.
To strike the opponent's god, one must first perceive one's own god, slay one's own god, and then wield one's own god.
The art held that a person's god was composed of many parts.
Three of these were uncontrollable: the God of Greed, the God of Wrath, and the God of Delusion, representing all the negative emotions of the human body.
To slay others, you must first slay yourself.
This meant cutting off those three gods, turning them into tools of your own use, then using them to disrupt—or even destroy—the opponent's god.
That was the gist of it.
But those three gods were inexhaustible and could not be entirely extinguished, nor were they easy to control.
Many who practiced the art their whole lives never even perceived them.
Mastering them was the mark of true initiation into the God-Slaying Sword Art.
Only then could one claim to be a successor. Mere swordsmanship was not enough.
"Yeah... no wonder it declined."
Li Xiang rubbed his head.
The God-Slaying Sword Art's barrier to entry was far higher than Beng Quan's—by a long shot.
"Greed, wrath, delusion—master the three gods, then wield them to kill the opponent's god."
In simple terms, it was projecting mental energy to attack the opponent.
That wasn't hard for Pokémon.
But for humans...
Those who could control their mental energy and use it offensively were generally called "psychics."
Killing the three gods and mastering them was essentially the process of awakening psychic powers.
So it was safe to say all true God-Slaying Sword successors were psychics.
Of course, psychics varied in ability.
Some were strong enough to perform feats comparable to Pokémon; others could barely bend a spoon, and even that was dismissed as a magic trick.
For the God-Slaying Sword Art to thrive, it needed to be taught exclusively to psychics.
But psychics were rare, and even fewer were interested in martial arts.
If the art didn't fade away, who would?
Besides, in today's society, it was no longer acceptable to simply teach swordsmanship—though starting a fencing club would be fine.
So, was there anything useful in the God-Slaying Sword Art?
Anything Greninja could use?
Yes, there was.
Viewed through a modern lens, the art's principles were easy to explain.
But its method of using one's mental energy to interfere with another's was relatively "novel."
Could the mind influence the mind?
Yes.
Telepathy was one such example of mind influencing mind.
It involved transmitting one's mental energy into another and converting it into language, received by the other's mental waves.
The problem was that Telepathy's mental energy was gentle, like lukewarm water.
But the mental energy required for the God-Slaying Sword Art was aggressive, like a spiked ball.
Were Pokémon strong-willed?
Absolutely.
Like animals, they had low tolerance for things they disliked and would immediately avoid them.
But they also possessed extraordinary pain tolerance—with or without a trainer's attention, they could endure severe ailments.
In battle, as long as they were willing, they could push themselves to the point of exhaustion and temporary unconsciousness.