High Martial Arts: Enlightenment after Practices

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***

Around thirty-five years old, at Life Energy Level 49, with an aura as sharp as an unsheathed sword, Zhou Chen stood there with his back straight and his gaze focused. He didn’t deliberately display his momentum, but his natural battle intent was already almost tangible.

Zhou Chen also looked over at the same time. Their gazes met in the air above the plains, separated by five hundred meters. There were no words and no movements—just a calm exchange of glances. But in that instant, everyone around felt something. The air seemed to stagnate for a moment.

***

Lin Jianyi stepped out of the formation. He walked very slowly with a steady pace, the hem of his deep cyan cloth robe brushing against the dark red grass. No momentum was exposed at all. However, with every step he took, the Martial Saint level powerhouses on the Great Liang side felt the pressure increase by a fraction. It was not a deliberate release, but a natural emanation. It was like the deep sea—calm on the surface, but anyone who drew near could feel its abyssal weight and unfathomable depths.

Li Xuangang opened his eyes and tightened his grip on his cane.

”State Preceptor of Great Liang, Li Xuangang,” he said. His voice remained steady, but the end of his sentence carried a subtle, almost imperceptible tension.

”Lin Jianyi.”

It was an unremarkable self-introduction without any titles or embellishments. Yet, it was precisely this plainness that made warning bells ring loudly in Li Xuangang’s heart. He had seen many powerhouses. Some had their brilliance fully displayed, some were deeply hidden, some had momentum like a rainbow, and some had attained Returning to the Essence. But the man before him did not belong to any of these categories. He was simply ”present.” He was just there, standing there, talking to him. He didn’t need to prove or display anything. His mere existence was enough to turn everything around him into a mere background.

Li Xuangang took a deep breath. He circulated his lifelong Cultivation, Concentrating Spirit to the absolute limit as he attempted to ”see” through the truth of the man before him. This was his unique secret technique—using his Spirit to probe others, a method that hadn’t failed him in thirty years.

He ”saw” it.

It wasn’t a Realm, nor Energy, nor the path of a Cultivation Technique. It was a sword. A sword suspended in the endless void, piercing through heaven, earth, and all creation. The sword was unsheathed, not even revealing its edge. It merely floated there quietly, waiting. But Li Xuangang knew that once this sword was drawn, it would be earth-shattering and unstoppable.

And he wouldn’t be able to block it.

One breath. In just a single breath’s time, Li Xuangang withdrew his Heart and Spirit, lowering his eyes. A fine layer of cold sweat seeped from his forehead.

”Grandmaster Lin,” he said, his voice still steady but noticeably hoarser. ”A pleasure to meet you.”

Lin Jianyi looked at him without speaking. His gaze was as calm as water, devoid of any emotion. It was neither condescending nor deliberately gentle. He was simply looking. Then, he gave a slight nod.

”We can begin.”

As his words fell, the invisible pressure abruptly dissipated. Li Xuangang felt the weight lift from his shoulders, his breathing finally smoothing out. He lowered his eyes, concealing the flash of sheer horror within them. Only he knew what he had experienced in that single breath. It hadn’t been a probe, a contest, or even a display. He had simply been ”glanced at.”

It felt like walking through the mountains and accidentally looking up, only to find a fierce tiger crouching at the edge of a cliff. The tiger didn’t pounce or bare its fangs. It simply opened its eyes, glanced at you, and then closed them again to resume its nap. Yet, you knew with absolute certainty that if it wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t even have the chance to run.

Li Xuangang tightened his grip on his cane, his knuckles turning white. Having immersed himself in the Martial Saint Realm for forty years, he considered himself a formidable powerhouse even when looking across the entirety of Great Liang’s history. In his youth, he had been spirited and arrogant, believing he could go anywhere in this vast world. Only at this moment did he truly understand the meaning of ”there is always a higher mountain.” The might of the Star Yuan Federation was likely far beyond his expectations.

”State Preceptor?” Zhou Chen’s low call came from behind.

Li Xuangang snapped back to reality, realizing his hands were trembling slightly. He steadied his cane and took a deep breath.

”It’s nothing,” he said. ”Your Highness, it is your turn.”

Zhou Chen looked at him with a calm gaze. He didn’t press the matter, merely nodding before stepping past the State Preceptor and heading toward the center of the plains. His steps were steady, his back straight. Though his sword remained sheathed, his battle intent had already ignited.

Watching his retreating back, Li Xuangang suddenly felt a surge of complex emotions. Pride. Worry. And a trace of envy.

He thought, ”It’s truly great to be young. Only when one is ignorant of the world’s vastness can they march forward without an ounce of fear.”

***

In the center of the plains, a temporary arena had been drawn. There were no fences or physical boundaries; the Grandmasters from both sides had simply released a wisp of their auras, marking out a circular area five hundred meters in diameter. This was the arena.

Xu Wuyi stepped into the circle. Zhou Chen entered at the same time.

The two stood thirty meters apart, locking eyes. Their introductions had already been made. Xu Wuyi knew the other party was a Genius of the Great Liang Royal Family, while Zhou Chen was aware that this excessively young man standing before him was only twenty-three years old.

A twenty-three-year-old Sub-Saint! If this were in Great Liang, it would likely make countless people’s eyes pop out of their heads. He wondered what level this youth represented within the Star Yuan Federation.

The wind across the plains ceased. The spectators from both sides held their breath, Concentrating Spirit. Lin Jianyi still had his eyes lowered, looking as if he didn’t care about this battle at all. However, his Spirit had quietly enveloped the entire plain. Li Xuangang clutched his cane, his gaze locked tightly on the arena. Qin Qinghe’s expression was calm, but a faint, almost imperceptible Sword Intent had already gathered at her fingertips. The other spectators were entirely focused, unwilling to miss a single detail.

In the arena.

Xu Wuyi untied the strap on his back, gripping the Liaoyuan Long Spear in his hands. Under the dual suns’ reflection, the dark gold spear shaft gleamed with a cold, eerie luster. The tip of the spear held a pinpoint of frosty light, resembling a dewdrop about to condense.

Zhou Chen drew his sword. The stunning blade left its sheath. The silver-white steel flowed with water-like moonlight, and the clear, ringing sound of the weapon echoed like a crane crying out to the nine heavens.

The two locked eyes. There was no referee and no starting signal. It was unclear who moved first.

Zhou Chen’s sword struck out like lightning. He attacked with his full strength right from the start. The silver-white sword light tore through the air, transforming into three fierce arcs that slashed toward Xu Wuyi from different angles. The speed of the sword was so fast that it was almost untraceable to the naked eye; there was only the piercing shriek of the air being sliced apart.

The Phantom Three-Pointed Sword. It was a secret transmission of the Royal Family, a top-tier Swordsmanship of Great Liang. Zhou Chen had immersed himself in this Swordsmanship for twenty years, and it had already reached the Transformation Realm. A single strike could split into seven Illusions, with each Illusion possessing eighty percent of his true power. Using only three Illusions at this moment was both a probe and a display of caution.

Xu Wuyi didn’t dodge. He horizontally blocked with his spear. The Liaoyuan Long Spear was held across his chest, its dark gold patterns lighting up with a faint glow.

CLANG CLANG CLANG!

Three crisp sounds rang out almost simultaneously. The sword light crashed against the spear shaft, sending fine sparks flying.

Zhou Chen’s pupils constricted slightly. His sword was fast, but his opponent’s spear was even faster. That seemingly simple horizontal block had precisely sealed off all the attack routes of his three sword Illusions without a hair’s breadth of error. Furthermore, the rebound force transmitted from the spear shaft... was so heavy. It wasn’t a brutal kind of heaviness, but rather a profound density. It was like piercing into the deep sea; the moment his Sword Momentum entered, it was enveloped, worn down, and devoured by the endless ocean water.

Zhou Chen didn’t hesitate, immediately changing his moves.