Chapter 68
As for Ning, there was not a single girl more dangerous than Wei zhi at her age. She mainly used soul arts against higher power users and her understanding of spiritual attacks was terrifying for someone so young. And as for Weiyang… Wuming glanced at him from the corner of his eye. He is a dimwit, I admit. But that idiot has enough determination and raw strength to crush that little brat Kai.
Kai and Ning slowly walked from behind Ming. The night wind brushed against their robes as they stepped beneath the lantern lights of the training grounds. Ming stood calmly ahead of them, his presence steady like silent water before a storm. His expression carried neither arrogance nor excitement, only focus.
Wuming smiled faintly. "Very well then… shall we move to the grounds, Ming?"
Ming looked at him quietly before nodding once. Both of them stepped forward and picked up their swords.
The atmosphere instantly shifted.
The two slowly circled each other exactly like predators measuring distance before the kill. Their footsteps were light against the cracked stone floor while the cold night breeze brushed past their robes. Ming wore a brown hanfu with dark ember-like patterns running near the sleeves, making him resemble blazing fire restrained beneath discipline. His long sword was elegant and refined, the blade slightly curved with brown engravings running along its steel. Near the guard, ancient words were carved deeply into the metal.
Death to the Unrighteous.
Meanwhile Wuming held a black-hilted sword wrapped in dark crimson threads like the one in the picture. The weapon looked simpler than Ming's at first glance, yet the moment he held it, the air around him seemed heavier. Unlike Ming's sword which carried the dignity of righteousness, Wuming's blade carried danger. Silent danger. Like something forged for slaughter rather than honour.
The two continued circling one another slowly.
Ming's stance was stable and heroic, shoulders relaxed yet sharp, the posture of someone trained under orthodox discipline for years. Wuming however stood differently. One hand behind his back, the sword tilted lazily near the ground, his body seemingly open with countless flaws. Yet somehow every flaw felt intentional.
Wei zhi narrowed her eyes slightly watching him. He's doing it again… pretending to be careless.
Elder Gu quietly sipped his tea while Elder Jiu folded his arms with interest. Even Xuan Ming, Kai and Ning had become serious now. The pressure between the two boys was growing heavier by the second.
Then Wuming smiled faintly.
"Come then," he said softly. "Let me see whether righteousness truly cuts deeper than sin."
Ming said, "So you have chosen the demon cultivator path?"
Wuming said calmly, "I will always choose demon cultivation, whether now or in the future. It suits the way I choose to do things. It doesn't bother me."
Ming frowned and stepped forward, "Then you are not true to yourself, Wuming."
The moment he finished speaking both swords clashed violently. Sparks burst between the blades, the sound echoing through the entire training grounds. Ming pushed forward with force but Wuming blocked it effortlessly, his black sword placed horizontally before him while his feet remained unmoved against the cracking stone beneath.
Wuming smiled faintly. "Me? I am not true to myself?"
His eyes darkened.
"Oh Ming… you are so wrong."
With one sharp motion he pushed Ming back using sheer physical force alone. Ming's feet screeched across the ground several meters. Wuming spread one hand lightly into the air beside him as if explaining philosophy instead of fighting.
"One who is true to their nature is true to themselves. And I…"
He vanished.
"…am very true to myself."
BOOM—
The ground beneath where he stood cracked apart.
Wuming appeared beside Ming instantly and their swords collided again at terrifying speed. Their movements became almost impossible to follow. Steel screamed against steel as both exchanged strikes continuously. Ming's swordsmanship was fierce and burning like a warrior forged in battle while Wuming's movements were unnatural, almost inhuman, as though space itself bent for him.
Even Elder Gu's eyes narrowed slightly.
Weiyang muttered under his breath, "What monsters…"
Ming suddenly stepped forward and slashed downward with overwhelming pressure. Wuming twisted sideways and rotated his body midair unnaturally, his robe flowing around him like black smoke.
"Space Restrictions."
The air distorted.
"Space Manifestation."
Wuming disappeared again and reappeared upside down beside Ming's neck in midair exactly like a phantom. His body bent at impossible angles while his sword descended toward Ming's throat. Ming's eyes widened and he barely reacted in time, blocking the strike before jumping backwards violently. His shoes screeched against the ground as dust exploded around him.
Ming huffed slightly and thought, Wuming moves his body too well… even in the air. Just how much has he practiced?
But before he could stabilize himself, Wuming attacked again.
Like a shadow cutting through the night, Wuming twisted through the air and spun around Ming exactly like flowing water. His movements carried no wasted energy at all. His sword flashed repeatedly from impossible directions forcing Ming to block again and again.
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
The pressure of their clashes sent shockwaves through the arena.
Ming's expression sharpened.
"Fire Zhen—"
Flames exploded around his blade.
"Phoenix of Molten Shadow!"
A gigantic wave of dark crimson fire burst forward toward Wuming. The heat alone melted the stone floor instantly as the flames roared like a phoenix descending from the heavens. Wei Zhi's eyes widened slightly seeing the destructive force. Even Weiyang stepped back.
The flames rushed directly toward Wuming's face—
And he vanished.
The fire swallowed empty air.
Ming's pupils shrank.
A voice suddenly whispered behind him.
"Hello there."
BANG—
Wuming struck Ming across the back with the hilt of his sword coated in force. Ming coughed blood immediately and was blasted across the ground before rolling violently several meters away. Dust scattered everywhere.
Silence fell for a second.
Wuming looked toward the burning remains of the Fire Zhen attack. The flames had scorched through the stone and stretched nearly ten feet beyond impact. Parts of the ground were still melting.
Wuming tilted his head slightly. "Not bad, Ming."
Ming slowly stood up wiping the blood from his mouth. His eyes were colder now. More serious. More dangerous.
Then he pulled his sword back and formed a strange stance. One foot moved behind while the sword split into multiple afterimages around him exactly like overlapping shadows. His aura became sharper and heavier as the air around him trembled faintly.
Wei Zhi's expression changed slightly.
Weiyang muttered, "He's getting serious now…"
Wuming watched the stance carefully and smiled.
"Are you getting angry, Ming?"
Ming did not answer immediately.
Because it was true.
Wuming was not fighting him seriously yet.
He was playing with him.
And he charged again, the ground beneath his feet exploding apart from the force alone. Ming immediately rushed forward too, both swords colliding in the middle of the courtyard with such terrifying pressure that a shockwave blasted outward violently.
CLANGGGG—!
The impact made the nearby walls tremble.
Their robes whipped wildly in the wind created from their qi while sparks erupted continuously around them. Wuming's black blade crackled with thin streaks of dark lightning while Ming's sword burned with crimson fire qi.
They clashed again.
And again.
And again.
Every strike became faster than the previous one until the younger disciples completely lost sight of them. Only flashes of red and black remained visible throughout the battlefield.
Elder Gu's eyes slowly narrowed.
This kid…
He hid this much during practice?
His fingers tightened slightly around the teacup Wei Zhi had poured for him earlier.
No… not just swordsmanship.
Speed.
Spatial movement.
Control over qi.
Timing.
Everything.
Elder Gu stared at Wuming's movements carefully, his mind racing rapidly.
Wait…
If he managed to hide his speed and power this well until now…
Don't tell me…
Has he opened Excussatio too?
And if he has…
How many Ineveta exactly?
The thought itself made Elder Gu's expression darken faintly.
This Xuan brat…
He immediately looked toward Weiyang.
Weiyang was completely focused on the fight, his bright blue eyes moving rapidly while following their stances and footwork. Surprisingly, he was perhaps the only one besides the elders capable of barely tracking their movements properly.
Then Elder Gu slowly looked toward Wei Zhi.
She was smiling faintly.
Not shocked.
Not confused.
Smiling.
That alone confirmed she knew something.
"Wei Zhi…" Elder Gu called quietly.
But she did not even look at him.
Her silver eyes remained fixed on Wuming as she spoke softly.
"Just watch, Master."
A small smile remained on her lips.
"Even I don't know everything."
Well, she knew. But she didn't said anything. She wanted everyone to enjoy te sow of the weakling, they all thought and pushed around all these years. After all this was the first time, Wuming was showing his strength.
Elder Gu's brows furrowed deeply.
What exactly are you hiding, Wuming…?
On the other side, Elder Jiu's face had darkened too.
Ming…
This brat dared trick even me?
Judging from Elder Gu's reaction, Wuming had hidden his abilities from both elders entirely.
Meanwhile, in the center of the battlefield—
Wuming was clearly enjoying himself.
His lips curved upward slightly while blocking another heavy strike from Ming before sliding backward several feet across the broken ground.
Interesting…
With the power I currently have…If I pressure him more…Will he finally use Excussatio?
His eyes glinted sharply.
Yes.
He has to.
Otherwise he won't be able to match my speed.
The next second—
BOOM!
Black lightning exploded around Wuming's feet as his speed increased drastically.
His figure vanished instantly.
Ming's pupils shrank.
Too fast—
Wuming appeared on Ming's left side and slashed downward.
CLANG!
Ming barely blocked in time before Wuming vanished again.
Then he appeared behind him.
Then above him.
Then directly in front of him.
Like lightning teleporting across space itself.
Every movement left distorted afterimages behind.
SLASH!
A sharp cut appeared across Ming's arm.
Blood splattered into the air.
"AHHHH!"
Ming stumbled backward while clutching his arm tightly, breathing heavily as sweat dripped down his jaw.
Wuming also landed several meters away, exhaling slowly while black lightning crawled around his sword like living serpents.
Then Ming slowly raised his head.
For the first time—anger appeared clearly in his expression.
His qi suddenly exploded outward.
"Heaven Arts…" he growled.
The atmosphere instantly became heavier.
The ground beneath him cracked apart violently.
"THE THIRTEEN SLASHES OF HELL!"
BOOOOOOOOM—!
Crimson qi burst into the sky as thirteen gigantic slashes manifested around Ming like glowing fire blades.
The slashes curved around him in terrifying arcs, hovering in the air while radiating immense pressure. The crimson attacks distorted the atmosphere itself, their edges glowing violently as smoke and heat spread throughout the battlefield.
Each slash looked capable of cutting apart an entire building.
Then all thirteen launched simultaneously toward Wuming.
The battlefield exploded.
Walls shattered instantly.
Stone pillars cracked apart.
The courtyard behind them was torn open by the sheer pressure of the attacks.
Kai and Ning immediately stepped backward because the overflowing qi was so intense that the edges of their clothes began slightly burning from the uncontrolled heat and pressure.
Meanwhile everyone else remained frighteningly calm, completely absorbed in the fight as though they were witnessing a true tournament battle between elite cultivators.
And Wuming—Wuming moved. Not simply dodging.
Flowing.
The first slash descended toward him vertically.
Wuming swiftly moved left, his body tilting smoothly while the crimson blade narrowly passed beside his face before destroying the ground behind him.
The second slash immediately came from the opposite side.
He twisted his waist and leaned backward fluidly, his black robes flowing through the air while the attack passed inches above his chest.
Then three slashes attacked together.
Wuming spun between them gracefully, almost like dancing, his feet barely touching the ground before he flipped sideways through the air like a feather.
His body bent unnaturally midair while one slash passed beneath him and another passed over his shoulder.
BOOM!
End of 68