Sword's Secret Power ?
The Starlight Haven Kingdom, a realm that revered martial prowess, particularly within its martial ranks.
Once every three years, a grand tournament unfolded, not only as a stage for identifying exceptional talents but also as a means to kindle the martial ardor within the warrior's heart.
The prerequisites for this prestigious contest were clear-cut.
Aspiring contestants had to be under the age of thirty and possess a minimum of the third level of body transformation. Thousands would step onto the battleground, their dreams alight with the chance for advancement, but after a series of rigorous trials and three grueling rounds, only fifty would remain to chase their destinies.
Now, the third and ultimate round of this gripping competition was poised to begin.
The participants had successfully navigated through their respective challenges, and soon, only fifty would endure the crucible of combat. It was a last stand, a moment when each warrior would unleash their hidden potential, and the stage would crackle with the fiery auras of determination.
Yet, despite the climactic nature of the event, the higher echelons of the Kingdom's leadership were somewhat nonchalant.
The previous rounds had featured contests with either glaring disparities in strength or fighters who struggled to make an impression.
As the competition progressed to the twentieth round, it had yet to witness any truly captivating clashes. For Henry, the only thing that mattered thus far was the ultimate outcome.
The tournament presented a tale of two warriors. One was Grayson, a dashing 29-year-old scion of a prominent general, standing proudly at the pinnacle of bone forging. His valor in numerous missions had earned him countless medals and accolades, fueling his relentless ascent. Grayson's might was further fortified by two prized possessions: a formidable saber and an impervious suit of armor, bearing the prestigious engravings of a master inscriptionist.
On the opposing side stood Jacky, a battle-hardened foot soldier of humble origins.
Though his innate talent wasn't exceptional, his unwavering dedication was nothing short of breathtaking. He fearlessly embraced the chaos of the battlefield, undeterred even by the specter of death. His heroic deeds had culminated in a wealth of merits, surpassing even those of the general's scion.
Like Grayson, Jacky now stood at the pinnacle of bone forging, representing a rare convergence of skill and determination.
Such closely matched competitors were a rarity, and their achievements on the battlefield hinted at the possibility of their future ascent to the coveted pulse condensation stage, where they would become pillars of the kingdom.
As the referee announced the combatants, a silver-badged general beamed with pride. It was his son, Grayson, who would step onto the stage.
"Ah, Old Man Gray, your son has truly outdone himself this time," remarked Henry, a wry smile touching his lips. He and the silver-badged general shared a history of camaraderie from their days in the same unit.
The silver-badged general replied modestly, "Commander, you're too kind. My son has had the privilege of access to rare elixirs, but his progress had been rather lackluster until recently. He hadn't been putting in the necessary effort."
However, despite the humble words, the general couldn't conceal his beaming pride.
Henry continued, "True, but it appears that Jacky has achieved remarkable results as well. Nevertheless, today's battle may be a challenging one for him."
Henry's assessment was based on the discrepancy in their martial skills and the equipment they possessed.
Grayson's two treasures, bolstered by inscription engravings, bestowed a clear advantage. Jacky, hailing from more modest circumstances, lacked such luxuries.
But fairness in the Starlight Haven Kingdom's tournaments wasn't measured by equality of equipment; it was a reflection of a martial artist's comprehensive strength. If an artist wished to prepare for battle, their family background became an integral part of their arsenal.
As Jacky stepped onto the stage, he drew forth his four-foot sword, prompting Henry to turn to Jonas, who sat beside him.
"Mister Jonas, is Jacky's sword also a treasure?" he inquired.
Jonas stroked his beard thoughtfully before nodding. "Indeed, it is a treasure, albeit a damaged one."
"Damaged?" Henry echoed, finally noticing the sword's missing tip.
Jonas elaborated, "Damaged equipment is undoubtedly inferior to pristine items. What's more, this sword is Jacky's sole treasure, whereas Grayson possesses two. While their cultivation levels are similar, Grayson's martial skill manual surpasses Jacky's. In all likelihood, Jacky faces an uphill battle in this contest."
Henry concurred, "Agreed. Nevertheless, the fact that Jacky has made it this far with a damaged sword is commendable. If he can hold his ground for twenty moves in this upcoming duel, I may consider promoting him to the martial hall. Hen Portia, pay close attention to this battle. It may provide valuable insights as you approach the fifth level of body transformation. While your martial skill is tailored for women, the principles remain the same, and observation can be a great teacher."
Henry's final words were directed toward Hen Portia, who nodded in acknowledgment, saying, "Yes, Grandfather."
With the referee's signal, the duel commenced, and Grayson wasted no time launching a furious onslaught of strikes, aiming to conclude the battle swiftly.
He held the upper hand in every conceivable aspect, and the sooner he secured victory, the better.
Grayson unleashed the closely guarded ancestral technique of the Gray family—the 'Five Sacred Mountains Saber Art.'
It was a form of swordsmanship that felt akin to mountains descending upon the battlefield.
Each slash and thrust carried an overwhelming sense of power, enough to crush opponents of lesser cultivation levels instantly.
Even those of equivalent cultivation found it challenging to withstand this deluge of mountainous force. Most could only capitulate to the devastating onslaught.
As Grayson brandished his saber, the very air around him resonated with a symphony of rushing winds, creating an orchestral symphony of battle.
His saber, weighing 250 Kg, perfectly complemented the might of the 'Five Sacred Mountains Saber Art.' If the adversary's weapon was of inferior quality, it would simply shatter upon impact.
Jacky, however, met Grayson's relentless onslaught head-on, his eyes narrowing in determination.
He was well aware of Grayson's secret technique and braced himself, anchoring his stance with unwavering resolve. Gripping his fractured sword with both hands, Jacky channeled a torrent of turbulent true essence into its blade.
Facing Grayson's overwhelming strike, Jacky had no choice but to commit his full strength to the clash.
Yet, as Jacky infused his true essence into the sword, he experienced a momentary jolt of surprise. The flow of true essence felt smoother, more fluid than ever before. It was a far cry from his previous experiences.
For months, Jacky had wielded this sword, and until now, infusing true essence had been similar to pouring water into a leaky vessel—inefficient and wasteful.
But this time, it was as if the blade greedily absorbed his true essence like a voracious whirlpool, leaving no room for waste.
How could this be?
Jacky barely had time to contemplate the anomaly as Grayson's saber bore down on him.
"Ahhhh—-"
In response, he let out a resolute cry and struck upward with his blade.
With his common low-grade martial skill known as the 'Total Annihilation Strike,' Jacky met Grayson's family heritage, the 'Five Sacred Mountains Saber Art.'
The clash erupted in a thunderous explosion, shattering the air and causing the ground beneath to crumble. Grayson staggered back several feet, while Jacky also yielded ground.
They were evenly matched.
Jacky gasped, disbelief coloring his expression as he examined the blade in his hand.
He had never crossed blades with Grayson before, only heard tales of his prowess.
It was only now that he truly comprehended the extent of Grayson's terrifying abilities.
Previously, he would have sustained minor injuries at best, but he had somehow managed to hold his ground with his damaged sword.
Jacky was certain that his newfound strength was not solely the result of his own efforts.
The sword itself had undergone a transformation. Could it be related to the inscription he received just the previous day?
Jacky wasn't well-versed in the mechanics of inscriptions, but he understood their capacity to enhance weapons.
Initially, he had believed that the inscription's effect would manifest as increased sharpness, but his prior tests on trees had yielded no discernible differences.
He had been disheartened. Little did he know that the inscription technique actually harnessed true essence to amplify the weapon's power.
Could an apprentice inscriptionist produce such a formidable effect? Jacky couldn't fathom it. While he didn't grasp the intricacies of inscription pricing, he was certain that an inscription with such potent capabilities couldn't be procured for a mere hundred gold.
In just one clash, Grayson had been forced to confront reality.
The man before him had not only withstood his 'Five Sacred Mountains Saber Art' with a broken sword but had arguably exceeded him.
This was a man of exceptional prowess.
"Well done!" Henry cheered enthusiastically. "To fend off Grayson's 'Five Sacred Mountain Saber Art' with a damaged blade and an ordinary martial skill is no small feat. Jacky has performed admirably! Mister Jonas, what are your thoughts on this?"
Jonas, his brow furrowed in contemplation, struggled for words.
Though he and Henry shared a similar level of cultivation, Jonas's expertise in the realm of treasures and inscriptions set him apart.
In that brief exchange, he had seen that Jacky's damaged blade was no less remarkable than Grayson's saber, and it had even surprised him with its true essence absorption.
How could this be? Gazing at the fractured blade, he discerned that it wasn't of high-grade quality.
Could it be the result of an inscription symbol?