Primordial. The Line Between Illusion and Reality. (Part 2)
Luo Ming’s flawless plan went off track when he decided to enter Ming Feizhen’s mind as he didn’t expect to see the Mount Daluo, bamboo house, black mountain or white hair flowing down to the youth’s black robe that he saw.
“Are… you challenging me?” The physical form of violence brandished his bizarre black broadsword loosely in one hand and had the corner of his lips pulled up just enough to make it clear that he was the lord presiding over this world, reinforcing it with his slouched sitting posture. The blackness surrounding him devoured optimism in its pressure that’d suffocate one to death. His voice was an alarm warning the listener of forthcoming danger.
Who are you?
Alarmed by the youth’s voice, Luo Ming immediately ran crimson qi – Enlightenment – down the blade of his sword and dispersed it disorderly, yet systematically. As a result, he found a hole in the black nightmare to breathe and cool down.
This world should be Ming Feizhen’s mind, so there shouldn’t be anyone else here unless… There can’t be more than four types of demonic pupils like that. Why… would he have those eyes?
“You shouldn’t be the master of this place. Who are you? Why are you entrenched in his mind?” Luo Ming calmed himself to create a piercing gaze.
The youth remained unfazed in spite of Luo Ming’s gaze an active Enlightenment qi. The only emotion in detectable in the youth’s eyes was loneliness.
“Seems you can put up a fight. I’ll ask again: are you here to challenge me?”
Luo Ming clutched his sword hilt. “Die!” Luo Ming generated waves along the trajectory toward the white bone throne.
“A swordsman, huh?”
Luo Ming’s crimson energy banged against an invisible wall that dispersed all his energy and force away. “Don’t get cocky.” Luo Ming transformed the environment into a field of swords plugged into the ground via Fleeting Theory again. All of the swords rose in synchrony, augmenting his slash two times the previous slash.
Lines started to crawl across the surroundings similar to glass cracking. Blood seeped through the cracks to dye the aerial swords and washed them under.
“Your swordplay is decent. I’d rank you third among all of the swordsmen I’ve encountered. Is that the power of a Divine Realm swordsman?” The youth was revealed to still be where he was, unflinching. He sounded as though he was languidly saying, “Not bad. Just a little on the expensive side.”
“Fiend, would you dare try intercepting a strike from this one?” Luo Ming challenged in a low voice.
“Hey.”
By the time Luo Ming heard the amicable voice, his defence line had been breached.
“Don’t… die on me.”
The word “invincible” flitted into Luo Ming’s mind as fast as the youth’s movements for no explainable reason, compelling him to howl and swing out Mountains Theory subsequent to Abyss Theory, two explosive attacks in succession. Due to his own attack ricocheting off the invisible wall, Luo Ming had to unleash a stronger attack – eighty percent of his full power, to be specific – to absorb the force of the returning sword qi.
A mere illusion cannot compare to my profound Repository Sword Theory!
Because Luo Ming’s Seven Emotions Theory was incomplete, the accumulation of energy from the two gradually exceeded its limits. Ming Feizhen dying as a result of his mind being destroyed wasn’t the assassination Luo Ming strove for. For better or worse, the youth’s invisible barrier around him protected him from any harm.
“Your swordplay is commendable. I’ve never seen any swordplay with infinite variations like this,” Arms tucked under his armpits and bobbing his head, the youth praised. “You haven’t completely mastered it, though, have you?”
That’s a pointless statement. If I had mastered it, Fleeting Theory would be three times as powerful as that.
“Indeed, if you had mastered it, I would have to praise your swordplay as profound.”
If I could master all of Repository Sword Theory, you’d already be dead, you monster.
“You’re suspending reality too much there.”
Like a black tide rising from the depths of the ocean, a gale blasted the darkness across the surroundings.
“Profound isn’t synonymous with ‘strong’.”
A black blade severed Luo Ming’s head from his shoulders.
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