Chapter 44

{It has come to my attention that I have been writing small chapters, and maybe the plot is moving too slowly. I will do better}

Without hesitation, Chu Feng moved, his body reacting faster than thought. His swift action came just in time, as my sword descended from behind, slicing through the air where his back had been mere moments ago.

"Your mastery of the sword is far superior to mine," I said lightly, my voice carrying no hint of jealousy or regret. "My sword cuts anything in its path, whether I want it to or not."

Chu Feng frowned, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. A questioning look filled his gaze, confusion evident as he noticed something strange—I was standing exactly where I had been at the start of the match, as if I had never moved.

Chu Feng's senses picked up on the murmurs from the crowd, their confusion rippling through the arena like a quiet storm. For a moment, he considered listening in, wondering if they'd noticed something he might have missed.

But then he realized—he didn't need to.

I didn't have a sword.

His pupils shrank as the realization hit him, his gaze locking onto my empty hands. His mind raced, the confusion deepening.

'Where did he get the sword from? He doesn't even have a storage ring.'

The thought sent a chill down his spine. He was certain—absolutely certain—that we had just clashed blades. He couldn't be mistaken.

And yet, there I stood, empty-handed, as if the sword had never existed.

"What is Chu Feng doing? Why is he fighting the air?"

The words from the crowd cut through Chu Feng's focus like a blade, his heart sinking as their meaning registered. His grip on his sword tightened, his teeth grinding in frustration.

'His intent… it's so powerful, it trapped me in an illusion.'

The realization sent a jolt through his mind. He wasn't fighting me directly—he was fighting the overwhelming force of my intent, crafted so skillfully that it had ensnared even his sharp senses.

'He's not fighting me personally because… he's scared of killing me.'

His pupils narrowed as the thought crystallized further. 'This brat wants me to grow stronger, to give him a battle worth his time. I'm nothing more than a bug to him—a bug he toys with, careful not to crush it too soon.'

Chu Feng's grip on his sword faltered for a moment, but then he gritted his teeth harder, his focus hardening. Anger flared briefly, but it was quickly replaced by something else—a grin spreading across his face.

Because before him was a mountain. A challenge so immense it dwarfed anything he had faced before.

And what more could he want?

"You got lost," I said calmly, my voice cutting through the haze of his thoughts.

Chu Feng's pupils shrank as I appeared before him, my sword slicing cleanly through his neck.

His eyes widened in disbelief as the world flipped around him, moving in surreal slow motion. He could see it all—the sight of his headless body still standing upright, blood pooling where his neck had once been.

But just as the surreal horror began to sink in, he snapped back to reality. Gasping, he instinctively jumped backward, only to trip and tumble ungracefully to the ground. He rolled quickly, scrambling to his feet as his trembling hand reached for his neck.

His fingers brushed against the skin, smooth and unbroken. But the sensation of the cut, the fleeting moment of detachment—it had felt so real.

"You're distracted again," my voice sounded from behind him, calm and steady.

Chu Feng's body tensed as, once more, he felt the sharp, searing pain of a sword stabbing through him. He gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out as the phantom blade twisted inside him.

He glanced back to where I should have been, only to find the spot empty. Yet, despite the emptiness, he was sure I was still there.

Still, Chu Feng didn't act recklessly. He didn't rush forward blindly or lash out in anger. Instead, he turned deliberately, his sharp eyes locking onto the illusionary copy of myself, born from my intent.

Chu Feng moved forward, his sword clashing with mine in a burst of sparks.

The moment our blades met, his pupils shrank.

My mastery of the sword had changed—no, it had evolved. If moments ago I had no control over what my blade cut, now it was the opposite. My sword only cut what I allowed it to cut, and that precision was a profound shift in power.

The difference was staggering. Where before my strength had been raw and overwhelming, now it was sharp and deliberate. Each swing carried the weight of intent, and that intent made my strikes exponentially more dangerous.

Picture this: a bulletproof vest works by absorbing the force of a bullet and spreading it out, dissipating the impact to stop the projectile.

Now, imagine that you can control that bullet.

What if you could control that force, ensuring it wasn't dispersed but instead focused entirely on a single point? That was the concept behind the control of one sword.

If you want to cut a target, then that target shall be cut.

It didn't matter how durable or resistant the target was. The focused sharpness of your blade would pierce through, leaving no room for dispersion or resistance. The precision made it infinitely harder to block, each strike carrying the concentrated force of intent and mastery.

It was a simple yet terrifying principle: complete control over what your sword cut—and what it didn't.

"Don't be shocked," I said with a smirk, my voice calm yet laced with challenge. "I haven't even shown you all the nice things I've learned from you today."

That day, Chu Feng came to truly understand the saying: there is always someone better.

He watched in disbelief as techniques he hadn't even revealed were suddenly laid bare before him, performed with precision and skill far beyond his own. It was as if I had unraveled his very essence, deciphering everything about him through sheer observation.

What struck his pride the hardest was his Dao—his pride and joy, the pinnacle of his efforts. Not only had I comprehended it fully, but I had taken it further. I forged a fist, a spear, an arrow, and countless other variations of it, each one more refined than the last.

Chu Feng's grip on his sword faltered as the weight of the realization bore down on him. No matter how hard he fought, this wasn't a battle he could win.

In the end, he admitted defeat.

For what was the point of fighting a losing battle when the mountain before him was insurmountable?

As Chu Feng was about to leave the stage, my voice echoed in his mind.

"You're welcome."

He froze mid-step, his eyes widening in shock. My words had entered his thoughts—not spoken aloud, but delivered through spiritual sense. That alone left him stunned. Only those at the Soul Refinement Realm or higher should be able to wield such an ability, and yet here I was, speaking directly to him despite being far below that realm.

"You're the most talented person I've ever seen… ignoring a few others," I continued, my tone calm but deliberate.

Chu Feng turned back toward me, disbelief etched on his face as he realized the gap between us was even greater than he thought.

"You have the heart and spirit to become something grand," I said. "So let me be your heart demon—the benchmark you compare yourself to, driving you to be far greater than you could ever imagine."

His gaze remained locked on me, still processing the full weight of my words.

"This is just a small world," I added. "If something this insignificant could cripple your future, then you're not ready for the Immortal Realm. Up there, geniuses achieve what you do as easily as they breathe."

"I'm one-of-a-kind," I said, my voice ringing clearly in Chu Feng's mind. "Nothing under or above the heavens is my equal. I look forward to the day when I truly hit a bottleneck, and you finally catch up to me. Only then will you be worthy of facing my real body."

With those words lingering in his mind, I leaped into the sky, effortlessly landing on a flying sword forged from my Qi. The blade hummed faintly beneath my feet as I stood tall, exuding an air of calm dominance.

Before disappearing, I cast a sharp glance at a few individuals in the crowd—those who knew they were meant to meet me. My look was brief but commanding, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

Without waiting to hear any more of the crowd's reactions or the elder's formalities, I vanished into the horizon, leaving the stage and its noise behind me.