Phantom Shadow!
Willow Sweep!
Eagle Strike!
Three sword techniques in rapid succession. Chen Fenghua parried with his blade, retreating step by step. The sword light seemed to penetrate every defense, overwhelming him with its relentless speed and precision.
"I concede," Chen Fenghua said bitterly. "Facing you is a nightmare."
This was his sixth King of the Chiefs Competition, and his sixth defeat at the hands of Chen Zong. Each loss came faster than the last. Chen Zong's rapid progress left Chen Fenghua in awe, utterly shattering his pride.
Soon, the final match of the sixth King of the Chiefs Competition would begin.
Chen Zong, Chief of the Sword Technique Group, would face Chen Guzhan, Chief of the Fist Technique Group.
"Hah!" Chen Guzhan roared, circulating his Blood Qi until his skin flushed crimson. His strength surged by three hundred pounds, reaching a terrifying total of eleven hundred. Unleashing a Heavy Fist honed to Perfection, his fists descended like twin boulders, relentlessly hammering Chen Zong and sealing off all avenues of escape.
Without Chen Zong, Chen Fenghua and Chen Guzhan would likely have shared the title of King of the Chiefs. But Chen Zong's presence forced them to compete for second place.
"His combat skills have improved significantly," Elder Xing observed, nodding approvingly.
"Impressive indeed," Elder Li, one of the elders of the Clan Hall, remarked. Intrigued by the repeated reports of Chen Zong claiming the King of the Chiefs title, he had come specifically to observe the match. "This young man possesses innate strength, making him ideally suited for power-based fist techniques. I might recommend him to Elder Wei."
"Hmm," Elder Xing nodded in agreement, turning his gaze to Chen Zong. "He already demonstrates remarkable talent in sword techniques, further enhanced by young Chuyun's guidance."
"A blessing for the Chen Clan," Elder Li chuckled, his admiration palpable.
On the arena, the air crackled with the force of Chen Guzhan's relentless dual-fisted assault. The wind howled with formidable power, its sheer pressure capable of suppressing many Martial Apprentices, leaving them utterly defenseless.
Yet Chen Zong remained unfazed. With unhurried grace, he wielded his sword, his seemingly chaotic movements shattering each gust of air before harnessing its momentum to thrust his blade forward.
Phantom Shadow Sword Technique!
Willow Sweep Sword Technique!
Eagle Strike Sword Technique!
The three sword techniques, each mastered to the Perfection Realm, flowed seamlessly together in unpredictable patterns. Gradually, a trace of the Eagle Strike Sword Technique's essence began to seep into his Phantom Shadow Sword Technique.
By deflecting and counterattacking in unison, Chen Zong systematically weakened Chen Guzhan's onslaught, disrupting his rhythm before imposing his own. Through this meticulous approach, he suppressed and ultimately defeated his opponent.
"You've won again," Chen Guzhan grumbled resentfully, defeated for the sixth time by Chen Zong.
Chen Yong's usually stern face now carried a hint of bitterness. Chen Yuyao and Chen Yidao had long grown numb to it; they had yet to claim the top spot in their group and had only completed two rounds of Blood Qi Tempering.
Unsurprisingly, Chen Zong once again claimed the title of King of the Chiefs, earning ten Vitality Pills and a jar of Tiger Yang Bone-Strengthening Wine as his reward.
Unfortunately, after three rounds of Blood Qi Tempering, the Vitality Pills had lost their effectiveness, reduced to mere snacks. Chen Zong now only consumed them when practicing the Tiger's Roar Manual left him hungry, using them to replenish his energy. The Tiger Yang Bone-Strengthening Wine's potency had also diminished, offering negligible benefits to his sixth Blood Qi Tempering. Still, it was better than nothing.
"Completing this sixth round of Blood Qi Tempering will take at least two and a half months, maybe even three," Chen Zong mused inwardly. Sometimes he considered impulsively advancing to the fourth layer of the Qi Blood Realm, but reason prevailed. Only by tempering his Blood Qi to its absolute limit could he forge the strongest foundation.
Sharpening the axe doesn't hinder the woodcutter.
Inside the room, Chen Zong drained an entire jar of Tiger Yang Bone-Strengthening Wine. Having tempered his Blood Qi five times, he could now fully withstand the wine's potent medicinal effects.
As he cultivated the Tiger's Roar Manual, his Blood Qi surged like a mighty river, and the ferocious roars of a tiger echoed incessantly within his body, resonating throughout the room with terrifying force.
After ten consecutive repetitions of the Tiger's Roar Manual, the medicinal power of the entire jar of Tiger Yang Bone-Strengthening Wine had been completely absorbed. Yet, the progress of his Blood Qi Tempering remained disappointingly minimal, leaving Chen Zong frustrated.
He retrieved his sword and moved to a corner of the Martial Training Ground to practice his sword techniques.
He executed the Phantom Shadow Sword Technique, Willow Sweep Sword Technique, and Eagle Strike Sword Technique ten times each, focusing primarily on the True Sword Eight Forms.
"The True Sword Eight Forms have long reached the Great Perfection Peak, and my comprehension of them has deepened further. Perhaps it's time to attempt a breakthrough to the Perfection Realm," he mused inwardly.
"Given the profound intricacies of the True Sword Eight Forms, achieving Perfection might significantly enhance my Blood Qi Tempering."
With these thoughts, Chen Zong sheathed his sword, regulated his breathing to a slow, fine rhythm, and assumed the Hidden Sword Stance.
His mind sharpened to a razor's edge, oblivious to the world around him, focused solely on the sword in his hand.
Draw Sword!
A muffled sound pierced the air as the sheath propelled the blade forward with maximum force. The sword sliced through the air like a crescent moon arcing across the night sky.
Drawing Sword Stance!
His body and footwork moved in perfect harmony, undulating like waves as he retreated and advanced. The sword surged forward like a raging torrent, its blade gleaming brilliantly and its whistle piercing the air.
Thrusting Sword Stance!
The iron sword radiated a dazzling light as it circled overhead, as if stirring the very heavens and drawing upon the power of the wind and clouds.
Circling Sword Stance!
After completing its orbit, the sword paused momentarily at its apex, then unleashed a devastating downward slash. The blade shimmered with unparalleled brilliance and overwhelming force, capable of cleaving a towering mountain in two.
Chopping Sword Stance!
Without pausing from the downward slash, Chen Zong swiftly twisted his wrist. As his body swayed, the iron sword danced like a butterfly, weaving chaotic patterns that blurred the line between reality and illusion.
Chaotic Sword Stance!
A single, impossibly concentrated beam of sword light, too dazzling to behold directly, emerged from the swirling chaos. Moving with lightning speed, it struck with lethal precision.
Swift Sword Stance!
Sheathing his sword, Chen Zong arched his body like a taut bow. Power surged from his feet, through his waist, and into his right arm. He could clearly feel his Blood Qi cascading like a surging river, causing his arm to swell visibly as boundless power coursed through it like an endless tidal wave.
Unleash the sword!
The iron sword shattered the air, its radiant blade obliterating all in its path. The sword's wail, like a demonic incantation, pierced Chen Zong's mind, sending sparks flying as the faint scent of scorched metal filled the air.
Exploding Sword Stance!
The momentum surged like a tidal wave, growing stronger with each passing moment.
Chen Zong's Blood Qi flowed back into his body, his swollen right arm returning to normal, though slightly fatigued. The tip of the iron sword, now hanging limply, glowed faintly red—a lingering heat from the stance's violent friction with the air, which quickly faded.
This iteration of the True Sword Eight Forms marked a new height in Chen Zong's cultivation. As if divinely inspired, key principles flooded his mind, granting him a fleeting glimpse into the Perfection Realm.
Striking while the iron was hot, he resumed his practice.
Again and again, his accumulated experience unlocked dormant potential. With each repetition, his comprehension of the True Sword Eight Forms deepened.
One day, two days, three days...
On the fifth day, Chen Zong once more practiced the True Sword Eight Forms.
The final strike was the Exploding Sword Stance. With a single thrust, he shattered the air. Amidst the blinding sword light and the mind-piercing wail of the blade, an unparalleled sharpness erupted—the keenness to pierce any defense, the ferocity to tear through any resistance.
Chen Zong's Blood Qi surged like a torrential waterfall, the Tiger's Roar Manual circulating autonomously. His body trembled slightly, emitting roars akin to those of a ferocious tiger. Initially startled, Chen Zong's face quickly lit up with delight.
As expected, he had broken through with the True Sword Eight Forms, ascending from the peak of Great Perfection to the Perfection Realm. His Blood Qi was now being tempered by this breakthrough.
After sixty breaths, the turbulent Blood Qi gradually subsided. Chen Zong carefully examined himself, beaming with joy.
"Excellent! This breakthrough is worth half a month of arduous training."
The Perfection Realm of the True Sword Eight Forms allowed him to temper every inch of his body. In other words, it could train his entire physique, making it exceptionally effective for Martial Apprentices below the peak of the third layer of the Qi Blood Realm. This further piqued Chen Zong's curiosity about the mysterious sword tip within his Third Eye Space.
What exactly is that treasure?
How could it impart such a profound Foundation Establishment sword technique like the True Sword Eight Forms?
Alas, the mysterious sword tip remained unresponsive, forcing Chen Zong to suppress his burning questions.
"When the True Sword Eight Forms reaches the Perfection Realm, it gains an unstoppable, razor-sharp edge!" Chen Zong casually swung his sword, executing the forms. The iron blade in his hand felt as if it could slice through metal like butter, its power astonishing.
He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and regain his composure. Sheathing his sword, he resumed the Hidden Sword Stance. Instantly, a faint, razor-like aura began to coalesce around him, gradually radiating outward.
Instead of immediately drawing his sword, Chen Zong meticulously sensed the changes within himself. The Perfection Realm of the True Sword Eight Forms was worlds apart from the Great Perfection Peak he had previously attained.
After a moment, having fully grasped the nuances of the Hidden Sword Stance, Chen Zong shuddered slightly and unleashed the Drawing Sword Stance.
The sword light arced like a crescent moon, its terrifying sharpness cutting through the air and leaving a faint white streak in its wake.
He quickly completed a full cycle of the True Sword Eight Forms, his Blood Qi surging like an unstoppable torrent.
Without pausing, Chen Zong resumed the Hidden Sword Stance and continued practicing until his arms burned with fatigue.
"Exhilarating!" Sweat drenched his face, but Chen Zong reveled in the exhaustion, roaring with laughter.
With this, all of his Foundation Establishment Martial Arts had reached the Perfection Realm.
"Next is the Transcendent Realm," Chen Zong murmured to himself. It was a distant, almost unattainable goal, one he wasn't sure he could reach, but it was worth striving for.
After returning to his quarters to wash up and change into clean clothes, Chen Zong picked up his sword and headed to Chen Chuyun's courtyard. Reaching Perfection in the True Sword Eight Forms was cause for celebration, but not for complacency. His daily training regimen must continue.
Currently, he wore forty-pound weights on each arm. The heavy iron balls he used for the Steady Technique training also weighed forty pounds apiece, and he could now sustain the right arm exercise for fifteen minutes and the left for fourteen minutes—remarkable progress compared to his initial capabilities.
Throughout every King of the Chiefs Competition, Chen Zong had never removed his weights, meaning he had never unleashed his full strength. Only he and Chen Chuyun knew this secret.
At the wooden frame for the Precision Stance Technique, a fresh batch of round wooden balls gleamed like jade pearls, smooth and perfectly spherical.
Chen Zong approached with a seemingly casual gait. With a flick of his wrist, he drew his sword and unleashed three consecutive thrusts in an instant. The sword light pierced the centers of the three largest balls simultaneously, leaving barely a mark, yet the balls remained motionless.
Quick, accurate, and steady—the results were remarkably effective.