Chapter 415 - 412: Wind Sword Intent
Chapter 415: Chapter 412: Wind Sword Intent
At the first light of dawn, the bamboo grove in the courtyard rustled in the early summer breeze. Crystal-clear dewdrops clung to the emerald leaves, refracting shimmering specks of light.
Fang Han stood in the clearing before the bamboo, his Cloud Splitting Sword angled toward the ground, his eyes closed in concentration.
Ever since he had switched to practicing the Cyan Profound Technique, his daily Cultivation schedule had become even tighter.
He cultivated Inner Qi in the early morning, studied Swordsmanship before noon, trained his body in the afternoon, practiced his Body Technique in the evening, and meditated at night to regulate his breathing, nurturing his Essence and building his strength.
Day after day, without a single break.
He knew that even though he was ranked sixth on the Celestial Pride List and was considered one of the very best of Qingyang County’s younger generation, he could not afford to relax.
His opponents were not limited to the younger generation.
Experts from the older generation could just as easily become his enemies.
Although a tacit agreement existed among the Seven Sects that forbade those at the Elder Level from attacking disciples, such an understanding was not unbreakable.
Not long ago, he had personally survived an assassination attempt by Yin Wugou, a Second-Grade Elder from the Netherworld Pavilion.
If Elder Zhou Jin had not arrived in time, the consequences would have been unthinkable.
That experience was a thorn in his side, a constant reminder that on the path of the Martial Dao, one could never be truly safe without absolute power.
Strength—only absolute, overwhelming strength—was the foundation of survival.
SWISH!
Fang Han opened his eyes and slowly thrust the Cloud Splitting Sword forward.
The thrust was not fast; it was actually quite slow, so slow that every inch of its movement was clearly visible.
But as the sword’s tip moved, an incredibly faint ripple spread through the air, so subtle it seemed like an illusion caused by the refracting sunlight.
However, an expert from among the Upper Three Grades would have been able to tell it was no illusion.
It was a wisp of nascent Sword Intent, what one might call the embryonic form of Sword Intent.
His situation now was different from when he had started cultivating the Grandmaster Level Cross-training Method, the Xuanwu True Skill, with no prior foundation. For the Grandmaster-level Sword Technique, the Sky-Splitting Sword Technique, he already had a solid base: his Perfection-level mastery of the top-level Swordsmanship, the Nine Swords of Sky Splitting.
With a proper foundation, his Cultivation speed was significantly faster. Progress came naturally, and in just over a month, he had already comprehended the embryonic form of Sword Intent.
He only needed to take one more step and truly comprehend Sword Intent to achieve the Entry Level of the Sky-Splitting Sword Technique.
’But taking that next step won’t be easy!’
Fang Han withdrew his sword, his brow furrowed slightly.
After comprehending the embryonic Sword Intent, he felt he was only a thin membrane away from grasping the Wind Sword Intent described in the Sky-Splitting Sword Technique. It was tantalizingly close, yet he could never quite break through.
This feeling had persisted for several days.
He knew that while the barrier felt within reach, it was far from easy to break.
This was true even with his 128-fold Swordsmanship Talent Amplification.
After all, this was a transformation from Momentum to a Realm. In the Cultivation of the Martial Dao, any such transformation was bound to be extremely difficult.
Of course, the benefits of a breakthrough would be equally immense.
’Comprehending a Realm is truly difficult,’ he muttered to himself, his expression still calm.
The further one progressed on the Martial Dao, the more difficult it became. This was true for the Cultivation of Inner Qi, and it was true for comprehending a Realm.
The transition from Momentum to Realm was a qualitative leap. Throughout history, this step had stumped countless dazzling geniuses.
’This step cannot be rushed!’
’It can’t be rushed.’
Fang Han took a deep breath, suppressing a flicker of anxiety, and closed his eyes once more.
In his mind, the text of the Sky-Splitting Sword Technique flowed past.
The descriptions of "Realm," the explanations of "Sky Splitting," echoed in his mind again and again.
An unknown amount of time passed—
He opened his eyes again.
The Cloud Splitting Sword thrust out once more.
Again, the movement was slow, but the instant the sword thrust out, the faint ripple in the air seemed to have solidified slightly.
Fang Han withdrew his sword, a flash of understanding in his eyes.
’Still not enough.’
’But the direction is right.’
He stopped thinking and simply practiced the Sky-Splitting Sword Technique over and over.
Flashes of his sword flickered in the courtyard, at times fast, at times slow, sometimes hard, sometimes gentle.
He repeated the Sword Techniques he knew by heart, making subtle adjustments with each repetition, every change bringing his perception of the threshold into sharper focus.
...
「Several days later.」
In the early morning, sunlight filtered through the leaves of the bamboo grove, casting dappled shadows on the ground.
Fang Han stood in the courtyard, his eyes closed in concentration.
Today, he had a distinct feeling—the barrier was now so thin it was almost nonexistent.
He didn’t rush to draw his sword. He simply stood there, allowing his mind to sink into a profound state of clarity.
In his mind, the text of the Sky-Splitting Sword Technique ceased to flow, and the Transformations of the Sword Techniques no longer appeared.
There was only a single flash of a blade.
A flash that was faint and minimalist, yet seemed to contain the fundamental principles of the universe.
The flash of the blade slowly cut across his mind, and in its wake, the void tore open, leaving a thin scar.
Then, he opened his eyes.
The Cloud Splitting Sword left its sheath.
This thrust was neither fast nor slow, neither hard nor soft. It was just a simple thrust.
Yet, the instant the sword thrust out—
An indescribable aura erupted from Fang Han.
The aura was intensely sharp, suffused with a terrifying Tearing Realm that felt as if it could rip anything to shreds.
The bamboo grove, which had been swaying gently in the breeze, suddenly fell still for an instant.
The next moment—
CRACK.
A faint, sharp cracking sound echoed.
A bamboo stalk as thick as an infant’s arm snapped in two, the break as smooth as a mirror, as if severed by an invisible blade.
Immediately after, a series of cracks rang out.
CRACK, CRACK, CRACK—
One, two, three stalks...
More than ten bamboo stalks snapped at almost the same time, their tips crashing to the ground with dull thuds.
On the ground, gashes appeared from nowhere, crisscrossing each other, an inch deep.
The bluestone-paved ground fractured and splintered, leaving behind a web of ugly scars.
Several deep gashes also appeared on the distant courtyard wall, as if it had been repeatedly slashed by an invisible blade.
With Fang Han at the center, everything within a radius of several yards was being silently torn apart.
The bamboo was broken, the ground was cracked, and the courtyard wall was scarred.
The gashes followed no pattern, yet they all radiated a heart-stopping sharpness.
And through it all, Fang Han simply stood, holding his sword.
His sword remained pointed forward, and at its tip, a thin fissure hung in the air, refusing to dissipate.
The terrifying aura radiating from him continued to surge, seemingly without end.
At the courtyard gate, Qiu Lan was whispering with two maids.
Suddenly, she stopped talking, her gaze drawn involuntarily toward the courtyard.
Strange sounds were coming from that direction.
"What was that sound?" one of the maids asked, confused.
Qiu Lan didn’t answer; she was already hurrying toward the courtyard.
The moment she passed through the corridor and stepped through the gate—
She stopped dead in her tracks.
Her pupils contracted at the sight before her.
The courtyard’s once-lush bamboo grove was now a complete wreck.
More than ten bamboo stalks lay broken on the ground, their tops scattered and their leaves a tangled mess.
The ground was crisscrossed with countless deep gashes, as if it had been repeatedly tilled by sharp blades.
The once-smooth bluestone pavement was now riddled with cracks and shattered fragments.
On the distant courtyard wall were several more deep, shocking gashes.
And at the center of it all—
—stood the figure in a green robe, holding his sword, his body exuding a heart-stopping, sharp aura.
Qiu Lan’s breath caught in her throat.
She didn’t understand what had happened or what the gashes that had appeared from nowhere meant.
But she could feel that the Fang Han before her was completely different from the person he’d been before.
It was a feeling that couldn’t be described in words.
She only felt an instinctual awe, and... fear.
The two maids hurried up behind her and froze, their faces turning pale at the sight of the courtyard.
"This... What is this...?" one of the maids stammered, her voice barely a whisper.
Qiu Lan didn’t answer, raising a hand to silence the maid.
She simply stood at the gate, gazing at the green-robed figure with an expression of ineffable awe.
She was afraid to make the slightest sound, for fear of disturbing him.
All she could do was watch from a distance as that heart-stopping aura around him slowly receded.
After a long while.
The aura around Fang Han finally subsided.
The terrifying, sharp intent receded like the tide, eventually vanishing completely.
He sheathed his sword, the Cloud Splitting Sword letting out a soft CLANG as it slid home.
He glanced down at the crisscrossing gashes at his feet, then at the dozen or so broken bamboo stalks, and a faint look of joy appeared on his face.
’The Sky-Splitting Sword Technique... I’ve reached the Entry Level.’
He had successfully transformed his complete Wind Momentum into Wind Sword Intent.
Even among Upper Three Grades Martial Artists, very few could comprehend Sword Intent.
For him to cross this threshold at the Early Third Grade of Cultivation was, if not unprecedented, then at least exceedingly rare.
According to the Sky-Splitting Sword Technique, comprehending Sword Intent would increase the power of the Swordsmanship by more than tenfold.
This was no exaggeration.
Sword Intent represented a deeper resonance with and control over the Power of Heaven and Earth.
For the same Swordsmanship, the difference between having a Realm and not having one was like the difference between heaven and earth.
He raised his head and his gaze swept over the wreckage in the courtyard.
The broken bamboo, the cracked ground, the scarred wall.
All of this was merely the after-effects of his Sword Intent leaking out.
’If I were to truly unleash it, just how powerful would it be?’
An indescribable sense of anticipation welled up inside him.
At the courtyard gate, Qiu Lan and the others were still standing silently.
Fang Han turned to face her.
"It’s nothing. Have someone clean this up."
His voice was flat, betraying no emotion.
"Yes, Senior Brother."
Qiu Lan started for a moment before snapping back to reality and bowing quickly.
She turned to instruct the two maids to get cleaning tools, but she herself remained where she was, watching the green-robed figure turn and walk toward the Quiet Chamber.
She didn’t let out a long breath until his figure had disappeared behind the door to the Quiet Chamber.
The formless, oppressive feeling finally dissipated completely.
She glanced down at her own slightly trembling hands, a complex emotion flickering in her eyes.
’Senior Brother... he’s grown stronger again.’