Chapter Ninety: All of Them Were Improving

On Blackwood Cliff, the Swordless One flicked several embroidered needles in his hand with the ease of threading butterflies, yet Zheng Jian defended as tightly as an iron fortress. Even he could not help being surprised.

“Good, very good. At this moment, you are stronger than you were a moment ago, by far. Excellent, excellent!”

Though astonished, the Swordless One remained utterly composed. The stronger Zheng Jian became, the more satisfied he was.

By this point, Zheng Jian had entered a wondrous state. His eyes were closed, and he fought entirely by the guidance of his spirit. Within him, the Primordial Skill raged at full speed. The Ren and Du meridians he had opened allowed his internal energy to recover with astonishing swiftness, more than enough to sustain his expenditure in the short term.

Amid the fierce battle, the Sword of Tear Marks in Zheng Jian’s hand became utterly unrestrained. It showed no trace of fixed form or routine, moving only where the mind led and the blade pointed, achieving true effortless command. This was exactly in keeping with the essence of the Supreme Sword Art: one must obtain the moves and then forget the moves before entering the realm of formlessness.

And what moves did the Swordless One have? His embroidered needles, too, were wielded with perfect freedom, proving that though their martial paths differed, their understanding was strangely alike.

This was precisely why the Swordless One had acknowledged Zheng Jian at this moment: Zheng Jian’s martial arts had truly stepped onto the path of the Dao, into the realm the Swordless One described as the birth of heaven and earth, where all things flourish and grow.

From there, one more step, and one would enter the Innate realm.

Constrained by the limits of this world, the Swordless One had found it difficult to truly reach Innate, and so he had long been trapped at this final threshold, unable to advance even a single step.

But for Zheng Jian, the path ahead was clear. With the Primordial Skill, which pointed directly toward Innate, he understood with perfect clarity that he was walking the broad road to that realm.

He had already mastered the second stage of refining qi into spirit. When his state of mind deepened in Mount Hua, only a single opportunity remained before he could break through the third stage.

And now, Zheng Jian seemed to faintly glimpse that opportunity. What he needed to do was seize that sliver of chance in battle, break through in one stroke, and achieve Innate.

As his opponent, the Swordless One’s eyes were also shining. “Good. That is the feeling!”

He felt an indescribable delight. He had been trapped at this threshold for nearly ten years, never able to see the direction of a breakthrough.

Self-cultivation behind closed doors could never, in the end, tear apart the fog and break open the road ahead.

Yet in this fierce clash with Zheng Jian, as Zheng Jian madly improved, the Swordless One also saw the direction of his own next step. And this was the true reason he had disregarded all propriety and challenged Zheng Jian.

Otherwise, as the acknowledged number one master of the martial world, he ought only to have waited for others to challenge him. Why would he have taken the initiative to seek Zheng Jian out?

That would have been to lower his own standing.

And yet he had done exactly that. Now, he had obtained the result he wanted: from Zheng Jian, he had seen the way to advance further in martial arts.

The embroidered needles in his hand moved even faster. If they had previously been like ghosts and phantoms, then now they had become lightning and sparks, their speed rising to yet another level.

When the two had exchanged more than a hundred moves, both Zheng Jian and the Swordless One began to improve anew. This was the true charm of a duel between masters. The extreme pressure, the terror between life and death, was enough to force a person to continually unearth hidden potential and break through their limits.

The place where they fought, the summit of Blackwood Cliff, had already been utterly transformed. Shrubs had been swept away, some rocks sliced into fragments, others riddled with needle holes. What had once been a rather delicate and beautiful setting now lay in complete disarray.

Zheng Jian did not know it, but every time his Sword of Tear Marks struck, it carried a faint sword aura, and the blade itself grew ever more azure. He had gone all out, leaving nothing in reserve.

The same was true of the Swordless One. No longer did he possess the ease he had at the beginning; his embroidered needles flew up and down with all his force.

Only at this moment did the two truly stand on equal footing, their strength extremely close. The only difference lay in the weapon: one used a sword, the other needles, and nothing more.

What a pity that such an earthshaking battle had no spectators. Even Yang Lianying was not there.

The entire martial world knew of this fight, yet no one could break through Blackwood Cliff’s layered defenses to witness it.

No, that was not entirely true. In fact, someone had tried. Just as the duel on Blackwood Cliff began, a group arrived at the mountain foot.

It was Ren Woxing and his party. Ren Woxing and Xiang Wentian were bound, while Ren Yingying disguised herself as an ordinary cult member and followed along. Up front and behind them were Shangguan Yun, Bao Dachu, and the others.

This was Ren Woxing’s scheme of self-inflicted suffering: he would pretend to have been captured and use Shangguan Yun and Bao Dachu, two elders of the Sun-Moon Divine Cult, to blend their way onto Blackwood Cliff!

When two tigers fight, the fisherman's gains are the greatest.

Ren Woxing believed that even if Zheng Jian proved no match for the Swordless One, he would certainly leave the Swordless One injured. And that would be Ren Woxing’s heaven-sent opportunity!

So long as these two both met their deaths on Blackwood Cliff, would this martial world not be his to traverse as he pleased?

When Ren Woxing learned that Zheng Jian would never join forces with them, he had settled on this plan. And the hope of carrying it out rested on these “surrendered generals” like Shangguan Yun and Bao Dachu.

Things had indeed unfolded much as Ren Woxing expected. Whether crossing the treacherous shallows or climbing the cliff, everything went smoothly with Shangguan Yun as an inside accomplice.

Until Ren Woxing’s group reached the stone gate atop Blackwood Cliff, where they were stopped.

“By order of the Cult Leader, no one is to be seen right now, whoever it may be!”

The man who barred their way was none other than Tong Baixiong, the chief of the Thunder-and-Wind Hall.

“Hall Master Tong, look carefully! This is Ren Woxing, the Cult Leader’s personally designated criminal. He escaped from Plum Villa. Elder Bao and I used who knows how much strength, and sacrificed who knows how many cult members, to bring him to justice. How dare you stop me?” Shangguan Yun said coldly.

Tong Baixiong paid him no mind. “I don’t care about that. I only know the Cult Leader has given an order: no one is to be seen. Unless there is an order from the Cult Leader, no one may pass.”

Shangguan Yun could not help becoming anxious. If it had been anyone else, he would not have been so troubled, but this great fool Tong Baixiong was stubborn to the core and fiercely loyal to the Swordless One. Apart from the Swordless One’s words, he gave no one any face at all, including the Deputy Cult Leader, Yang Lianying.

Shangguan Yun exchanged a helpless glance with Bao Dachu, and both understood the meaning in the other’s eyes. There was no other option now but to force their way through.

But Ren Woxing had already lost all patience. Eager to reap the harvest from others’ struggle, how could he be bothered to waste time with Tong Baixiong? With a heave of both hands, he snapped the iron chains, then abruptly struck out with a palm toward Tong Baixiong.

In his panic, before Tong Baixiong had even managed to retreat a few steps, Ren Woxing seized his arm, and a terrifying suction force surged forth at once.

“Star-Sucking Great Art?”

Feeling his internal energy draining away like a flood bursting its banks, Tong Baixiong could not help crying out loud.

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