novellaaa Chapter 167 Clash of Sword Qi
Chapter 167 Clash of Sword Qi
In the third round of the group stage, the arena where Xingwu University faced off against the Sakura Country team was completely surrounded by people.
The stands were already full, and even the aisles and steps were packed with people. Some were tiptoeing forward, some were holding cameras above their heads to take blind shots, and some were craning their necks against the railings. A dozen or so contestants from other groups stood in the aisles; some leaned against pillars with their arms crossed, while others squatted on the steps, chins propped up, their eyes fixed on the ring. The match in the adjacent arena was still going on, but almost no one was watching; the audience was mostly gone, sitting sparsely, and the referee's shouts sounded particularly lonely in the empty arena.
On one side is the rising star team from Xingwu, whose achievements—slaying ferocious beasts in secret realms and repelling beast tides on the border—have already spread throughout the rest areas of other teams. On the other side is the seeded team from a long-established swordsmanship powerhouse, the Sakura Country team, a regular participant in every major tournament, known for their composure, restraint, and decisive moves. This match has been considered the highlight of the group stage from the very beginning, attracting many players from other groups to come and watch, eager to see what these two teams can achieve.
Miyamoto Ichiro was the first to step onto the arena. He wasn't wearing his usual dark blue samurai attire today, but a white kendo uniform, his cuffs tightly bound and his belt perfectly fastened. His katana pointed diagonally at the ground, not yet drawn, but the sword intent emanating from him was like a fully drawn bow, ready to be released at any moment. His four teammates stood on either side, their steps synchronized, each forming hand seals, their spiritual energy intertwining to subtly form a pentagram-shaped array, ready for a combined sword attack.
When Lin Chen stepped onto the stage, the Star Sword was sheathed, emitting no sharp aura. His star energy was contained within his dantian, like an iron box sealing the flames in a furnace; his entire being was as calm as a deep pool, without ripples. The two stood ten steps apart in the center of the arena, bowing slightly, their right fists pressed against their left palms.
"Lin Chenjun, I've long admired your name." Miyamoto Ichiro straightened up, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather, but his eyes didn't smile. His wrist, gripping the hilt of his sword, was relaxed, his fingers naturally curved, not clenched. "I've heard you slew a fourth-tier ferocious beast in the secret realm, your swordsmanship talent is extraordinary. Seeing you today, I can confirm your composed demeanor, unlike those martial artists who only know how to talk."
He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the seemingly ordinary sword in Lin Chen's hand, a hint of seriousness flashing in his eyes.
"However, true swordsmanship isn't just about talent and luck. Today, I'll show you what a truly forged sword is."
Lin Chen pressed down on the scabbard, his thumb pushing open the guard to reveal a sliver of silver on the blade, before pushing it back in. He didn't utter any threats, only two words.
"Make your move."
The referee raised his arm, channeling his inner energy into the array's core at the edge of the arena. A pale golden protective shield hummed and rose, enveloping the entire arena. As his arm fell, a voice rang out—"Begin."
Miyamoto Ichiro made a move.
The instant he spoke, his body leaned forward, his feet propelling him forward, taking a single step from ten paces away to stand before Lin Chen. His scabbard snapped open before him, the katana unsheathed, its gleaming blade tracing an arc through the air with a tearing sound, aimed directly at Lin Chen's face. Behind him, his four teammates moved simultaneously. Their figures scattered like five chess pieces thrown at once, landing precisely in five different locations. Spiritual energy surged from the four, flowing into Miyamoto Ichiro's sword, their combined power forming a sword formation in an instant. A second sword light slashed from the side, its angle cunning, blocking Lin Chen's retreat; a third slashed diagonally downwards from above, carrying the force of gravity; the fourth and fifth followed closely behind, the five sword energies linked end to end, forming an impenetrable net of sword energy, accompanied by sharp whistling sounds, converging simultaneously from five directions.
The audience held their breath.
Lin Chen did not retreat. He took a slight half-step back with his right foot, lowered his center of gravity, and drew his Star Sword three inches from its sheath. Silvery starlight spread outwards along the blade, covering it with a thin film of light. He did not use any of his powerful, sweeping attacks, but only the most basic sword techniques—slashing, blocking, parrying, and wiping. Wherever the sword light passed, it precisely embedded itself in the gaps of the opponent's sword net, the crisp clanging sounds forming a continuous chorus, like hammers striking simultaneously in a blacksmith's shop. All five sword energies were blocked; not a single one could penetrate three feet in front of him. Moreover, with each collision, the silvery starlight would rebound along the opponent's sword, like a heavy, blunt force field, making the opponent face not just a sword, but an unyielding wall of bronze and iron.
Miyamoto Ichiro's eyes narrowed slightly. He could feel the recoil from his arm growing stronger and stronger. With each strike, his hand would become more numb. The silver aura seemed to originate from the sword, rather than from the depths of the arena, unshakeable and unbreakable.
"Sword formation complete!"
With a low shout, the five men shifted their footwork in unison, their positions intertwined, and their sword intents merged instantly. The five sword energies converged into a massive, greyish-white sword aura, over three zhang long and as wide as a door, carrying a piercing shriek powerful enough to tear the air, and slashed down. This strike had already reached the threshold of sword power. Even before the sword aura arrived, the bluestone slabs on the arena began to tremble, and tiny fragments of stone leaped from the cracks, flying to both sides under the pressure of the sword wind.
A gasp rippled through the audience; some stood up, others covered their mouths. Everyone assumed Lin Chen was going to dodge.