Unforgettable Strike. There’s a Way. (Part 3)
As a swordsman who had been through innumerable fights and deliberate things deeply, demanding Luo Ming to throw away all of his knowledge and experience – or asking for him to choose just one or two pieces of knowledge – was akin to abandoning all hopes of survival, especially when his rage had clouded his mind. Yet, he relied solely on his Divine Realm abilities to fight. Who could legitimately assert that they had the physical advantage over an evil beast, though? Unlike Abels, Moyan Luohou and Feng Xue, Luo Ming’s fighting style could be summed up in one word: reckless.
Luo Ming had practically no experience attacking people out of fits of anger. He was comparable to a protagonist who had been written as a composed character, only to suddenly do a one-eighty out of the blue.
The sound of Baidizi sending Luo Ming reeling again conjured images of flesh being torn off the bone. Luo Ming was far from being a young man. It was double true for him since he went through a taxing battle ten years ago that never saw his health recover entirely. Had it not been for Poison King’s unorthodox treatment, he wouldn’t be anywhere near his current level. Even so, time spared no one regardless of whether they’c reached Divine Realm or not. In the event that he could reach a higher plane, he’d still be subject to the effects of time.
Precision, strength and stamina couldn’t escape the consequences of time. Martial artists had an obsession with studying ways to prolong life once they reach a certain age in hopes of preserving all they worked for despite knowing it went against nature. Deep down, nonetheless, they knew their extension was only another plateau, a psychological surrender to improvement if you will. Owing to the deterioration, it became more challenging to achieve a meaningful breakthrough no matter how prodigious they once were.
Luo Ming never should’ve tried to engage in a strength contest with Baidizi for he’d be the only one to suffer. More importantly, the years he had dedicated to swordplay meant it was difficult for him to switch to a new style. If he couldn’t adapt to the abrupt change in style, qi deviation was right around the corner. Any time a martial artist wanted to make a change, he needed to follow a procedure for his body to adapt. A sudden modification without the requisites in place was tantamount to destroying one’s foundations.
Ming Feizhen obviously said it took two Divine Realm adepts to slay one dragon’s son; altering his plan was anything but wise.
Everyone could see the problem with Luo Ming’s strategy, and they couldn’t understand his decision, but nobody could stop him. Although Luo Siming, vision foggy, wanted to help, Shen Yiren stopped him. Luo SIming didn’t expect his father to go easy on Baidizi given their history. He knew his father wanted to seize the moment and seize the breath. It was just that he thought his father was paying an inordinate price for revenge.
It had only been a short few seconds, yet Luo Ming had emerged from the dust and rubble to dust himself down. He had blood by his mouth, yet he showed no signs of yielding. In contrast, Baidizi hadn’t even broken a sweat.
As the commander of Nieyao’s beast army, no beast would act without Baidizi’s orders. Unlike humans, the wait for the signal to devour the army before them only served to heighten their appetite and aggression. The longer they had to wait, the more wild and brutal they’d be when given free reign. All that stood between them and their feast was a dogged swordsman.
To preserve energy, Baidizi never followed up after knocking Luo Ming off his feet or giving its minions the command to swarm him or the soldiers.
Unable to stand watching his father march forward alone yet again, Luo Siming bellowed, “Brothers, how can we just watch Patriarch suffer?! Advance with me!”
Shen Yiren, eyes still fixated on the battle situation, extended a hand across Luo Siming the same way she would stop a child’s tantrum.
“Miss Shen, no matter what you say, I must help my father! How can I just watch my father suffer?! Please step aside!”
Upon advancing his first step, Luo Siming felt a distinct cold and energy on him. Despite his progress with Scorching Sun Spirit and dipping his feet in Repository Sword Theory, Shen Yiren’s glare was enough to induce a headache that stifled his morale.
Sh-she knows our Sword Spirit, and it’s superior to mine? It’s like Dad’s glare.
“I’m not stopping you for your sake. Everyone here is ready to die. I don’t mind being first to die or sacrificing another life, including yours, as long as it’s not for inane reasons,” Shen Yiren stated. “Have you noticed that, although he has been losing, each round lasts longer than the last? His clothing is mangled, yet his worst injuries are just scratches. Baidizi’s most lethal weapons are its fangs and coiling attack, yet it hasn’t made contact with either yet. Patriarch Luo’s spirit seems to be rising when it contradicts his style… It’s like he’s a different man.”
Luo Siming truly didn’t pick up on those things. On the other hand, Feng Jian did. While circumstances weren’t optimistic, Luo Ming wasn’t remotely close to death. If he was, Feng Jian would’ve already intervened. He had accompanied Luo Ming through his peak and his worst, yet Luo Ming astonished him yet again.
To begin with, taking damage didn’t positively correlate with spirit rising, and changing a signature style couldn’t just happen by chance or on a moment’s notice, even more so when Luo Ming had speny years on years engraining his style into his body. Luo Ming’s techniques hadn’t changed, but the intent behind each movement had.
“I get it now.” Shen Yiren explained, “He’s trying… to forge his body and swordplay in the match. Leave it to Heavenly Swordsman to choose changing his style after decades of work.”
“Watch closely. This is a fight that will demonstrate the pinnacle of swordplay.” Nobody could tell who said this, but they all listened earnestly.
“Here he goes,” Shen Yiren remarked.
“Die!” Feng Jian yelled.
Luo Ming struck down on Baidizi – hard! The scarlet energy on his blade buffed the damage he dealt with each slash several folds. He hit Baidizi with God-Shocking Theory, Fleeting Theory, Mountains Theory, Ocean Theory and then Seven Emotions Theory in one long combo. Notwithstanding how abruptly he altered his style, his execution flowed perfectly from one technique to the next and without compromising damage.
Baidizi’s scales chipped off one after another, leaving big crevices in the earth. Its blood raining onto its troops plunged them into frenzy. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the annoying upward curve to its mouth. Pain was a novel sensation to it, one not enough to disrupt its mood. The yellow glow that came to its eyes, however, was familiar to everyone watching.
Upon enveloping itself in yellow energy, Baidizi’s speed increased markedly. Before Luo Ming could cut it again, it coiled up, trapping Luo Ming within. Whilst tightening up to squash him, it used its head to attack from above.
“It’s using Enlightenment! Ten years ago, it was that uncanny ability of it that killed my seniors!” Feng Jian finally drew his sword. “It’s time to strike.”
“Wait.” Feng Jian wasn’t going to show Shen Yiren the sort of respect Luo Siming showed, but he still stopped when he heard her add, “He seems to have found something.”
According to what Shen Yiren could glean, Baidizi’s attempt to strangle Luo Ming didn’t work well. Luo Ming put up a valiant fight on the inside. Unfortunately, he couldn’t exert the same power he did when he fell to the dark side. He, consequently, couldn’t cut through Baidizi’s Enlightenment armour.
Purple Forbidden Enclosure Dragon Slayer flew out from inside the circle, galvanising Luo Clan to blaze forward.
“Yujing.”
As if Luo Ming’s voice was magic, Yujing ejected itself from its sheath, flying from Shen Yiren’s waist to Luo Ming’s grip. Everything between heaven and earth fossilised. A column of light that made Baidizi appear tiny extended from Yujing into the ether.
At the sixth hour of Nieyao’s invasion, there was finally one decisive match. Baidizi finished in two, its mouth still curved upward on its severed head.
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