Chapter 60: The Recovery Speed of "Primal Energy Technique" Is Truly Astonishing

Chapter 60: The Innate Art’s Recovery Speed Is Truly Impressive

With a justified reason and a clear lineage! Zheng Jian couldn’t help but praise his own cleverness.

Opposite him, Xiang Wentian suddenly understood and burst into wild laughter. “Hahaha... Your junior is courting death, but I, Xiang Wentian, am merciful—I’ll spare his life! Who would’ve thought the Mount Hua Sect is full of people seeking their own demise? Since you wish to die, how could I refuse to grant your wish!”

With that, he leaped like a giant bird, raising both palms to strike at Zheng Jian. His white robes billowed despite the absence of wind, clearly empowered by formidable internal energy.

Zheng Jian’s expression grew solemn. With Xiang Wentian’s first move, an overwhelming pressure was immediately felt. Though the man had not yet arrived, Zheng Jian sensed the turbulent air swirling around him.

With a flick of his longsword, he thrust forward, launching the Mount Hua’s signature—“Three Immortal Swords of Death”—three rapid strikes, each faster than the last, and the sword’s radiance illuminated the surroundings.

Sword and palm clashed. Though Xiang Wentian’s hands were bare, they rang with the sound of clashing metal, his powerful internal force erupting and causing both men to retreat.

Xiang Wentian’s expression changed; his arrogance vanished, replaced by seriousness. “Such skill! Your swordsmanship is truly the most outstanding among Mount Hua’s swordsmen I’ve ever met!”

“Such a monster cannot be allowed to live!”

Murderous intent filled Xiang Wentian’s face. As a man of great intelligence and martial prowess within the Sun Moon Holy Cult, he understood perfectly that after Ren Woxing’s return to Black Wood Cliff, he would seek to unify the martial world.

To achieve that, the Five Mountains Sword Sects were an unavoidable obstacle!

He had believed only Zuo Lengchan was a true genius, but now it seemed Mount Hua had produced an extraordinary figure.

True energy surged around Xiang Wentian as he charged Zheng Jian like a raging storm. This time, palm shadows filled the surroundings; clearly, with his murderous intent awakened, Xiang Wentian was holding nothing back.

The two clashed again, entangling swiftly, their sword and palm exchanges growing ever faster.

Xiang Wentian grew increasingly alarmed as he fought. He found Zheng Jian’s swordplay inexplicably strange, wild and unpredictable, making it impossible to anticipate the next move. In contrast, Zheng Jian seemed to anticipate every shift in his palm technique, seizing the initiative and striking precisely where defense was needed, as though he instantly perceived the tiniest flaw in Xiang Wentian’s techniques.

Zheng Jian, meanwhile, felt increasingly comfortable. Only at this moment did he finally understand why masters preferred to duel opponents of equal or greater strength.

This extreme pressure is indeed the fastest path to improvement.

If there were an experience bar, Zheng Jian’s experience points would surely be soaring.

He had executed the “Breaking Palm Technique” dozens of times, yet never identically; the same move, in Zheng Jian’s hands, seemed entirely different each time.

Were Feng Qingyang present, he would see at a glance that Zheng Jian had grasped the essence of the “Nine Swords of Dugu”—not bound by fixed forms, guided by intent, forgetting established swordplay, letting the heart follow the sword; thus, there is nowhere unreachable, nothing unattainable.

“Hahaha, exhilarating!” Zheng Jian was fighting with such joy that he shouted aloud. To his eyes, Xiang Wentian’s palm technique revealed many signals—each time the move changed, Zheng Jian could see the subtle twitching of his opponent’s arm muscles, allowing him to predict the direction of the palm’s force and strike ahead of time, piercing the inevitable path.

Xiang Wentian, worthy of being a threshold-crossing master, realized Zheng Jian’s sword seemed to discern his flaws and quickly devised a countermeasure: his palm technique alternated between false and real, real and false, constantly concealing his true intentions to disrupt Zheng Jian’s judgment.

Masters’ exchanges—every move deadly.

Soon, the two had traded over a hundred blows. The small island at the center of the lake, their battlefield, was in shambles within dozens of yards—some trees severed at the waist, others blasted full of holes, crashing down with thunderous force.

Such a scene testified to the ferocity of their duel.

Over a hundred moves had passed, yet Xiang Wentian still could not discern any pattern in Zheng Jian’s swordplay. On the contrary, the pressure mounted, the sword techniques grew stranger, and the surrounding sword light ceaselessly sliced through space.

“What’s going on? I’ve seen all the Five Mountains sword techniques, but this youth’s swordplay is neither here nor there—it seems to echo every school’s style, yet the transitions make no sense! What bizarre swordsmanship!” As Xiang Wentian fought, sweat beaded on his forehead and his heart filled with shock.

He had roamed the martial world for decades, dueling countless Five Mountains swordsmen, and he was familiar with their techniques. Yet the swordplay emerging from Zheng Jian’s hands was altogether different—bearing the rigor of Songshan, the spirit of Hengshan’s Five Gods, the peril of Mount Hua, the essence of Taishan, as though mastering them all, and even standing beyond.

Gradually, their battle shifted from the island to the water’s edge, then onto the lake itself, and finally back to the island.

At this moment, Zheng Jian felt increasingly invigorated; not only was he not exhausted, he was bursting with energy. He finally understood the benefits of top-tier internal arts—his Innate Art coursed through him, true energy nearly unending.

“No wonder in the world of the Condor Heroes, at the first Mount Hua Sword Tournament, the Five Supreme Masters battled for seven days and nights, and Master Chongyang emerged victorious. The Innate Art is truly incredible; this recovery speed leaves the Purple Mist Art far behind!”

Zheng Jian now gradually took control of the fight, even allowing his thoughts to wander. Though he had only mastered the first level of the Innate Art, he had consumed so many internal energy fruits that his true energy was robust, and now his recovery was astonishingly fast. How could anyone compete with this?

By contrast, Xiang Wentian was already struggling. Though he forced himself to keep up, unless something unexpected happened, he wouldn’t last another fifty moves.

Xiang Wentian was deeply shocked. Never since his debut had he encountered such a situation. Seeing Zheng Jian still energetic, Xiang Wentian knew that a prolonged fight would spell his certain defeat.

“I can only use that technique...” Xiang Wentian was full of helplessness. He actually had a unique skill of his own, but...

At this moment, Zheng Jian unleashed thirteen sword strikes in an instant, sword light enveloping the surroundings.

Xiang Wentian’s palm winds met the sword light, dispersing it, but left a tiny gap at his chest.

Zheng Jian’s eyes gleamed; unable to thrust again in time, he seized the opportunity and struck with his palm!

His right palm landed squarely on Xiang Wentian’s chest. Instantly, Zheng Jian found his internal energy vanishing as it entered Xiang Wentian’s body, and his own true energy began pouring out endlessly!

“Star-Absorbing Technique?” Zheng Jian was startled. No, when did this guy learn the Star-Absorbing Technique?

Without daring to hesitate, in this critical moment, Zheng Jian quickly activated the Innate Art, severed the invading true energy, and instantly retreated over ten yards, his face filled with suspicion and shock.

...

(End of this chapter)