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Chapter 136 — Birth of the Infinity Sword Style
Shen stood in the training courtyard at dawn, the sky still grey. A thousand memories of techniques he copied rushed through his mind like lightning—footwork, stances, blade rotations, airflow control, bone pressure mechanics, nerve-break angles.
Lare watched him silently.
Shen raised a wooden practice sword and whispered:
> Shen: "Let's start."
He swung.
A normal slash—
but it cut the air with a sound like tearing paper.
Lare blinked.
> Lare: "That wasn't in any of the scrolls."
Shen shook his head.
> Shen: "No. That was only the opening."
He closed his eyes and muttered calculations under his breath.
> Shen: "If I adjust the angle of the wrist by five degrees… and lower my center of gravity by three centimeters… the slash speed increases by fourteen percent."
He tested it.
WHOOSH!
A tiny whirlpool of air spiraled behind the blade.
Lare stepped back.
> Lare: "You're bending airflow with a wooden sword?!"
Shen opened one eye.
> Shen: "Sword science, Lare.
Air resistance… pressure difference… rotational velocity.
If I can master the movement physics, the weapon doesn't matter."
He stepped forward again.
> Shen: "Form One… incomplete."
He swung again and again—
each movement slightly different, his mind analyzing every detail.
> Shen: "Too stiff… too slow… too much drag… not enough rotational flow."
He threw the wooden sword away.
> Shen: "I need a steel blade."
Lare tossed him an old training sword.
> Lare: "Try not to break this one."
Shen smirked.
> Shen: "No promises."
He took a stance he created on the spot—
a mix of 34 different martial techniques, balanced perfectly.
> Shen: "Form Two."
He slashed upward.
Metal hummed.
The air split into a V-shape.
Lare stared again.
> Lare: "You recreated a vacuum line… without magic."
Shen's grin widened.
> Shen: "This body might not have Dark Mage powers…
but understanding exists beyond magic."
He tapped the blade with his finger.
> Shen: "A sword isn't about energy.
It's about angles, timing, acceleration, and body mechanics."
Lare crossed his arms.
> Lare: "Explain."
Shen nodded.
> Shen: "If my elbow rotates at 1.2 seconds per full swing… but my shoulder stays relaxed… the total force output is tripled."
He demonstrated.
SHRING!
The sword blurred.
Lare's eyes widened.
> Lare: "You're compressing force in your bones."
Shen corrected him.
> Shen: "Not force—
Momentum stacking.
Small movements adding up to a single lethal strike."
He shifted his feet.
> Shen: "This is Form Three."
The ground cracked beneath him as he stepped.
Lare jumped.
> Lare: "You just used seismic recoil in footwork?!"
Shen nodded proudly.
> Shen: "If I stamp the ground at the exact moment I exhale, the shock travels up my leg and into the blade. Martial science."
He swung.
A ripple passed through the courtyard wall.
Not magic.
Not aura.
Pure technique.
Lare raised an eyebrow.
> Lare: "You're insane."
Shen laughed.
> Shen: "Insanity is another form of genius."
He held the sword in reverse grip.
> Shen: "Form Four… anti-counter stance."
He rotated the blade so fast the edges became invisible.
> Shen: "If an enemy tries to parry, the rotational torque will break their wrist. Simple physics."
Lare muttered:
> Lare: "You're building a technique that has no weak spot…"
Shen turned to him.
> Shen: "Exactly.
Infinity Sword Style.
No openings. No flaws.
Every form adaptable."
Lare asked quietly:
> Lare: "How many forms have you completed?"
Shen looked at the sky.
> Shen: "Four… but I need two thousand five hundred."
Lare's jaw dropped.
> Lare: "You're already this strong with just four…?"
Shen shrugged.
> Shen: "A technique becomes perfect when movement and purpose become one. I just need time."
He practiced again—
each slash cleaner, sharper, more precise, like a machine built for killing.
He whispered to himself:
> Shen: "Form Five…
Pressure Shift Cut."
The sword flicked sideways.
A stone pillar behind him split in half without a sound.
Lare whispered:
> Lare: "…That wasn't a cut. That was a pressure slice. You manipulated air pressure to cut without touching."
Shen lowered the blade slowly.
> Shen: "Five down.
Two thousand four hundred ninety-five to go."
Lare sighed heavily.
> Lare: "At this rate, you're going to create a sword art the world can't handle."
Shen smiled in a calm, controlled way.
> Shen: "Exactly my plan."
He raised the sword again.
> Shen: "Let's continue.
Lare—watch carefully.
Today, the world's strongest sword style begins."
Lare nodded reluctantly.
> Lare: "Fine. Show me something impossible."
Shen's eyes sharpened like a blade.
> Shen: "Impossible?
Lare…
I invented impossible."
And the training started again—
slashing, striking, calculating, creating—
the birth of a style that would shake every world he stepped into.
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