Chapter Eighteen: The Mortal Blade's Limit—A Kill Every Ten Steps
Apart from the Universe Pouch, Daoist Yangshan possessed three talismanic artifacts: the Five-Colored Pendant, the Banner of Six Yin Ghosts, and the Thunderfire Peril Pearl. Although the Five-Colored Pendant and the Banner of Six Yin Ghosts were considered lower-grade talismanic artifacts, the Thunderfire Peril Pearl was of mid-grade quality.
The day he opened Daoist Yangshan’s Universe Pouch, he found, in addition to two hundred talisman coins, two bottles of antidote pills, a rudimentary Qi cultivation technique, and a bottle of Treasure Yellow Elixir for nourishing the body.
By Chen Heng’s reckoning, all he needed was the Thunderfire Peril Pearl for self-defense; everything else he handed over to Xu Zhi. Even so, he had already come into great fortune. After all, a mid-grade talismanic artifact was a rare sight in the marketplace. Three lower-grade artifacts might collectively match the value of a mid-grade one, but the calculation was never so straightforward—such items always carried a significant premium.
Yet Xu Zhi insisted on accepting only the Banner of Six Yin Ghosts before taking his leave. The two exchanged pleasantries and tried to push the treasures onto one another, but in the end, Chen Heng kept the Peril Pearl, the Universe Pouch, and an extra bottle of Treasure Yellow Elixir, while Xu Zhi took the Banner of Six Yin Ghosts, the Five-Colored Pendant, the talisman coins, and other assorted items.
Afterward, Xu Zhi didn’t linger, staying only a single night before departing for Little Gan Mountain.
The disciples who had originally belonged to this mountain, along with the many women abducted by Daoist Yangshan for his debaucheries, were all sent away, dispersing with gold and silver to seek their fortunes elsewhere.
In the blink of an eye, this once-preeminent Qi-cultivating sect in the region of Lanliang City was scattered to the winds, leaving only Chen Heng alone on the mountain, diligently cultivating in solitude.
...
“It’s a pity I couldn’t find Daoist Yangshan’s body-forging technique. Not only was it absent from his Universe Pouch, but I searched the entire mountain and found no trace of it,” Chen Heng mused, unable to suppress a sense of regret.
The body-forging art of Daoist Yangshan was truly extraordinary. Not only did it render his body impervious to conventional weapons, but even when Xu Zhi struck with a sword, he could not inflict the slightest harm. In the end, it was only due to Daoist Yangshan’s insufficient mastery that he failed to refine his neck and vital points to the same invulnerability as his chest and abdomen, allowing Xu Zhi’s superior swordsmanship to sever his life.
Moreover, that art did more than make his body indestructible—it also bestowed upon him boundless strength. Each strike or gesture was like thunder shaking the earth, truly terrifying. What ordinary Qi cultivator could command such power? He was almost equal to a primordial barbaric elephant, perhaps even surpassing it.
Daoist Yangshan, a wild cultivator unaffiliated with any orthodox tradition and ignorant of all other arts, relied solely on his physical might to hold his own against Xu Zhi for so long. Had he lacked this art, he would have been beheaded by Xu Zhi in their very first encounter.
...
“The Little Red Dragon Sword Manual contains thirteen sword techniques. Not only has Senior Brother mastered them all, but he’s also innovated upon them, integrating the strengths of a hundred schools to comprehend the pinnacle of mortal swordsmanship—Ten Steps, One Kill.”
Chen Heng tucked the Thunderfire Peril Pearl into his sleeve, lost in thought.
“Before he left, Senior Brother specifically advised me to study the Little Red Dragon Sword Manual diligently. If I could comprehend its ultimate level—Ten Steps, One Kill—then, when wielding flying sword talismanic artifacts, my control would be as natural as my own limbs, and slaying cultivators of the same rank would be as easy as butchering a dog...”
The Ultimate Mortal Sword—Ten Steps, One Kill.
This is the highest realm of martial swordsmanship. Regardless of whether the opponent wore armor, carried weapons, or how many there were, within ten steps, the sword would inevitably draw blood.
Yet Xu Zhi himself was unaware that this so-called “Ten Steps, One Kill”—the pinnacle of the mortal sword—was, in fact, akin to the legendary Immortal Dao realms of Sword Qi Thunderclap, Sword Light Manifestation, or Sword Threads: different names for distinct levels of sword mastery.
In the Eastern Hun Prefecture, among the Eight Great Sects of the Celestial Order, the Zhongyi Sword Sect has a clear rule: Any who do not comprehend Ten Steps, One Kill before their sixteenth year are unworthy to join their ranks.
...
“My Qi cultivation technique has yet to yield results; I might as well enter the Realm of True Law and practice the Little Red Dragon Sword Manual.”
Chen Heng took out a small, white Yang Elixir, dissolved it in water, and drank it. He then sat in meditation, regulating his breath until a warm, gentle current circulated through his entire body.
He grasped a longsword, focused his mind, and connected with the Golden Cicada, instantly entering the Realm of True Law.
...
As always, there was neither sun, moon, nor stars above—no grass, trees, or earth below. In the empty, boundless Realm of True Law, Chen Heng pointed at himself, and soon a golden light shone upon him. Out of the void, it condensed into a page of gold script filled with writing.
...
Mahasthamaprapta’s Radiant Meditation
Name: Chen Heng
Techniques: Little Red Dragon Sword Manual (—), Green Pouch Medical Classic (—), Chen Clan Archery (Great Accomplishment)
Magical Treasures: Thunderfire Peril Pearl (mid-grade talismanic artifact), Universe Pouch (low-grade talismanic artifact)
Spiritual Attainment: Embryonic Breath
...
“Mahasthamaprapta’s Radiant Meditation has another use—if I ever encounter mysterious magical artifacts in the outside world, I can bring them into the Realm of True Law and let the Radiant Meditation illuminate them for appraisal.”
“I’ve often heard that in the shadowy corners of the Immortal Market, there are black markets teeming with demons and monsters, crooks and honest men alike. With this power to discern, perhaps I’ll stumble upon a hidden treasure someday...”
Chen Heng smiled faintly and dismissed the golden script.
He took up his sword and, following the diagrams and instructions of the Little Red Dragon Sword Manual, began to practice the thirteen sword techniques step by step.
Wind Returns to Stoke the Fire.
Three Suns Rising.
Broken Rainbow Holds Unity.
Pear Blossom Reflects Snow...
...
In this world without sun, moon, or stars, Chen Heng practiced day and night without ceasing. At first, he would pause occasionally to drink or rest. But later, whenever hunger or fatigue struck, Chen Heng would simply slash his own throat with his sword, resetting his mental form.
A new mental form restored all states, freeing him from hunger, thirst, fatigue, and the many bodily injuries that come from sword practice.
It was a harsh and self-mortifying method—others might find such monotony unbearably dull, but Chen Heng’s will was as hard as iron. He found joy in it, even a subtle amusement.
Thus, he devoted all his energy to cultivation.
Until, after four months, on a certain day—
Chen Heng’s wrist trembled slightly, and with that motion, the sword’s tip split into seven cold stars, shooting forth like flying nails before converging as one.
“Seven Stars Shining at the Sun, the final technique of the Little Red Dragon Sword Manual—success…”
After a long while, Chen Heng slowly sheathed his sword with a sigh. To advance further in swordsmanship after reaching such heights, relentless practice alone would no longer suffice—only real combat would do.
This is why, in the mortal world of warriors, sword masters are ever eager to test their blades against the world.
...
The inspiration born in a life-and-death duel is worth ten years of solitary contemplation.
But dueling with swords is perilous; a single misstep means the sword is broken and the man is dead. This is why, though there are many swordsmen in the world, those who attain Ten Steps, One Kill are as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns.
“Senior Brother, please instruct me.”
Chen Heng summoned the mental form of Xu Zhi and saluted with a slight bow.
Xu Zhi’s mental form gave no reply.
With sword in his left hand, he thrust straight forward—a movement so natural and unforced, without the slightest trace of artifice, as if a sika deer leapt and hung its horns upon a branch.
“Well struck!”
Chen Heng laughed and raised his sword to meet the attack.
After forty exchanges, Xu Zhi suddenly changed tactics. Chen Heng, unable to evade, was struck and lost half his head.
...
“Well done!”
Moments later, Chen Heng was reborn where he stood, even more delighted, and once again charged at Xu Zhi with his sword.
This time, though he lasted forty-seven moves, he was still defeated—cut clean in two at the waist by Xu Zhi’s sword.
...
A third bout.
...
A fourth.
...
A fifth.
...
A sixth.
...
Chen Heng had lost count of how many times he’d died at Xu Zhi’s hand, but not once did he survive past fifty moves.
Xu Zhi’s swordsmanship was no longer human.
Ten Steps, One Kill!
At this point, it was as if he wasn’t wielding the sword—the sword was wielding him, as if it had attained its own spirit.
“Wind Returns to Stoke the Fire!”
Switching from offense to defense, Chen Heng narrowly parried Xu Zhi’s attack aimed at his lower body.
Now at a disadvantage, Chen Heng no longer stubbornly held his ground but retreated dozens of steps instead.
“Senior Brother, let’s change tactics.”
He flicked his sleeve, and a red-and-white Thunderfire Peril Pearl floated into the air, gently spinning.
“Please witness my Thunderfire Peril Pearl,” he said with a slight smile.
At once, the air was filled with the sound of thunder and the roar of blazing fire.