Chapter 13: Sword Path

Stars shift, sun and moon cycle, seas turn to mulberry fields, all in the blink of an eye.

In this world, nothing is truly inevitable, and nothing can last forever. It is as if, before meeting the people of the Spirit Temple, Luo Shan had thought his whole life could remain like the previous twenty years—living a simple, happy life with his parents in Aimiduo Town. And it is also as if, before heading to Luofu Gudé Villa, when he and Qin Yan walked together across a meadow blooming with mountain flowers, time seemed to freeze from that moment onward, as if nothing had ever happened, like an eternal scroll of happiness and tranquility that no one was willing to break. Likewise, when he was struck by Goth's dark arrow and bound by endless darkness and despair, he once believed that this loneliness and emptiness, close to death, would forever envelop him, until even the last instinct was lost. Since he had reached the end, then everything would be "eternal".

Nevertheless, there are still countless changes. There are good and bad; the predetermined track can never truly endure.

Luo Shan stayed outside Linquan Town for two whole months. For the entire two months he could not get up, lying in bed while everything was tended by Pei Er. Fortunately, Pei Er's home was in the woods on the town's outskirts, with no houses nearby, otherwise gossip would have been inevitable. Yet even so, Luo Shan felt deeply apologetic. Pei Er, however, paid no mind, continuing her meticulous care as always. Thanks to her attention, Luo Shan was dragged back from the brink of death. After two months, he could finally get out of bed and move around, and his internal magical power had almost fully recovered.

That day, Pei Er returned from drawing water at the river and saw Luo Shan practicing his magic outside the house, so she set down the water bucket and watched with interest. She had long known Luo Shan was a mage, but it was her first time seeing him display his magical power.

Luo Shan waved both hands, sending beams of different colors from his left and right, like two tiny figures dueling each other. A gray beam, serpentine like a spirit snake, circled around him, while a white beam gathered into the shape of a barrier on the opposite side. The gray light spun several rounds, then suddenly shivered and, from an impossible angle, turned and struck the barrier from behind. Just as it seemed the hit would land, the barrier came alive: the white light dispersed and re‑coalesced, instantly forming a shield in the opposite direction. The two forces clashed, emitting a dull, muffled thud, as if locked in stalemate. Then the gray beam abruptly split in two; the stronger strand continued to press against the barrier, while the weaker strand twisted in mid‑air and slammed into the barrier's rear. With a boom, the barrier shattered, the two gray beams merged again, and the white light lost its shape, like two warriors after a bout—one collapsing, the other cheering victory. Pei Er found it amusing and couldn't help laughing.

Hearing the sound, Luo Shan quickly withdrew his magic. "Pei Er." He turned around. "You're back?" "Hmm." Pei Er stepped forward a few paces. "You silly kid, you've recovered nicely; you can already release magic so calmly." "That… that's all thanks to you." Luo Shan recalled the awkwardness of the past two months and scratched his head sheepishly. "My magic isn't fully restored yet, yet I've made you look foolish." "Nonsense." Pei Er replied earnestly. "Your spell is impressive. I may be a swordsman and can't use magic, but the double‑sided attack you just used mirrors the principles of swordsmanship perfectly. Swordsmanship values winning by surprise, not sheer force; if you can exploit an opponent's flaw, you can defeat a stronger foe with less power. In that regard, none of the mages in Linquan Town have realized this—each only knows how to throw themselves at the fight. Yet when faced with a powerful opponent, persisting in a raw power contest is just courting death. On that point alone, you surpass them."

"Pei Er, looking at what you said… my magic is far inferior to your swordsmanship."

"Magic and swordsmanship actually share many commonalities," Pei Er said, looking at him. "My master often says that while cultivating magic is simpler, quicker, and yields results faster than swordsmanship, once swordsmanship reaches a certain level it can rival most mages. If one practices both simultaneously, the power of magic combined with the speed of swordsmanship can let a practitioner advance by leaps in a single day. Among the continent's top masters, many are dual‑cultivators of sword and magic. However, great sword masters are rare, and those who have the patience to train both are even scarcer. Luo Shan, I see your talent and comprehension are good; if you're interested, I can teach you my swordsmanship, and the combination will let your cultivation soar." She suddenly stopped calling him "silly kid," which made Luo Shan feel a bit uneasy. "Pei Er, if you're willing to teach, I'd gladly learn."

"Then it's settled," Pei Er said, beaming. "I've never taught anyone swordsmanship before; you're the first, silly kid." "I'm deeply honored," Luo Shan replied with a smile. "Shall we start now?"

"Hey." Pei Er suddenly pulled a stern face. "I'm the master; when we start is up to me. As my disciple, stay put and be obedient." Luo Shan was momentarily stunned, not knowing what to say. "You really are a silly kid; I was just teasing you." Pei Er couldn't help laughing. "Taking every word seriously—how could there be anyone as foolish as you in the world?"

"I…" Luo Shan muttered half a sentence. Though he wasn't a genius, he wasn't a blockhead either; living with his parents he often had clever ideas that made them chuckle. Yet, for some reason, in front of Pei Er he could never relax.

It was probably Pei Er's more than two months of careful care that made him feel so guilty. Consequently, he treated every word of Pei Er as scripture. "Alright, alright…" Pei Er sensed the awkward atmosphere and waved her hands repeatedly. "I'm joking, don't take it to heart… Let's begin now; you rest a bit while I go fetch a sword for you."

"The way of swordsmanship emphasizes extreme speed, striking at unexpected moments and angles, overwhelming the enemy with velocity. Yet most swordsmen on the continent fail to grasp this essence, relying solely on brute force. Such techniques work against ordinary bandits, but against a mage they merely pit one's weakness against the opponent's strength; after all, magical power is not something ordinary people can resist. Practicing sword alone thus strays from the true sword path. A swordsman is not a mage's equal, precisely for that reason. Come, learn it this way: hold the longsword at a slight upward angle relative to your body—this is the opening stance. From this move begin a continuous set of sixty‑four sword forms, executed in one breath, all taught personally by my master. Watch me perform it once for you."

Before the words finished, the longsword already fluttered in the wind, tracing several sword blossoms. Pei Er's figure rose fleetingly; the blade sliced the air, her robes fluttered, like a butterfly dancing on the breeze, each strike coming from an unexpected angle. Luo Shan thought that if he fought like Pei Er, his magic, though powerful, lacked such agility and grace; a missed strike would let her close in with relentless sword attacks, and even his strongest magical barrier would struggle to repel them. Counter‑attacking would be even harder. To win, he would have to unleash continuous long‑range light beams to keep her at bay, but such attacks drain magic heavily, and she could still search for openings and strike when the chance arises— even if she didn't win, she could retreat calmly.

So, according to Pei Er, the true way of swordsmanship is actually not weaker than magic.

Magic and the Sword Path. In that instant, Luo Shan felt as if he had glimpsed a new world. Many previously vague ideas clarified: why not fuse magic and swordsmanship? If a sword is used as a weapon, no matter how strong the force, it's merely as if the arm were twice as long. But if magic serves as a longsword, wielding magical beams to execute sword techniques, isn't that equivalent to wielding an extremely long blade?

Luo Shan, limited by his experience and talent, only had a vague grasp of these principles, yet even that shallow understanding benefited him greatly.

In a moment, the sixty‑four sword forms were completed. Pei Er sheathed her longsword and smiled slightly. "This set of sword techniques is my master's masterpiece, called 'Creation.' He believes this method pierces the mundane sword arts; other sword styles focus on force rather than intent and cannot become true swordsmanship. Only the 'Creation Sword' embodies the true essence. I was fifteen when he taught me, and I've practiced it for three years, yet I still can't match even his surface."

"If the disciple is already this skilled, the master must be even more extraordinary," Luo Shan said earnestly, captivated by Pei Er's radiant aura. "If possible, I'd truly like to meet that senior elder."

"You wish to meet my master?" a hint of melancholy flashed in Pei Er's eyes. "He would be glad to see you, but unfortunately he passed away three years after passing me this sword method."

"Pei Er, I'm sorry… I didn't know."

"It's fine." Pei Er shook her head. "No blame for the unaware, and after all… birth, aging, illness, death are ordinary human affairs. Moreover, my master has been gone many years, so I'm not too sad. Now, draw your sword; this set isn't easy to learn."

Although Pei Er was usually chatty and laughing, her instruction on sword techniques was meticulous; whenever Luo Shan performed a move incorrectly, she corrected him instantly. Having studied only magic since childhood, he had never truly held a sword, so tackling such advanced swordsmanship felt arduous. After a day, he had mastered only seven or eight of the sixty‑four forms, and his movements were clumsy, often mismatched. Pei Er seemed to have anticipated this and didn't get angry; instead she gave even more detailed guidance—when to release force, when to shift footwork—explaining everything clearly. Luo Shan memorized earnestly and made great progress the next day. His innate talent was good and his magical power abundant; by the fourth day he could already perform the sword set with a semblance of form, though the finer details were still rough—something that cannot be forced. As Pei Er said, she herself spent over half a month learning the whole set, and truly mastering it took more than half a year. Moreover, swordsmanship and magic are fundamentally similar; the same sword move and the same spell differ greatly in power depending on the practitioner's depth. Even though Pei Er can make each move swift, compared with her master it's negligible.

Pei Er taught Luo Shan sword practice daily; at mealtime she would leave him to train alone while she prepared the food and brought it out. The two would sit on the riverbank, eating and chatting, and life felt flavorful. Yet Luo Shan's mind often drifted back to Qin Yan, worrying about her current situation—wondering how she fared after he left, whether Luofu Gudé Villa had attracted threats from the Spirit Temple because of him. Whenever these thoughts arose, he wished he could sprout wings and fly to her at once; if his involvement caused her harm, he would gladly die. However, the Spirit Temple's minions were everywhere, his own wounds had not fully healed, and he could not simply abandon Pei Er. Moreover, the Viscount of Luofu Gudé's magical swordsmanship was top‑tier, even Ming Guang feared him, so there should be no danger; Qin Yan, being with her father, would also be safe. Thinking this, his mood steadied a bit. Pei Er, as meticulous as a hair, naturally sensed his worry, yet even during sword practice she never pressed him about it.

That day, the two engaged in combat training. After the opening stance, Luo Shan brandished his sword in a rapid assault, executing the sixty‑four‑move Creation Sword. Though his speed still lagged, his form was impressive. Coupled with Luo Shan's abundant magical power, each sword strike was heavy and forceful; even though Pei Er only defended, she dared not be careless.

In an instant, the sixty‑four moves were completed; when Luo Shan drew his sword again, he instinctively added a few variations. Pei Er, seeing his high comprehension, was overjoyed. After another few dozen exchanges, with noon approaching, Pei Er parried Luo Shan's assault, stepped back a few steps, and laughed, "Alright, you've improved quickly; let's rest a bit, I'll go make food."

Before the words finished, Luo Shan's expression changed; he pointed toward the direction of Linquan Town behind her and exclaimed, "It's on fire!" She turned her head and indeed saw towering flames and thick smoke engulfing Linquan Town. Having grown up there, she felt a deep attachment, and the sight of the raging blaze made her anxious. "Luo Shan, let's go quickly; something must have happened."

"Hold onto me." Luo Shan sheathed his sword, raised both hands, and a gentle breeze rose. Threads of magical power enveloped his body, and the wind‑riding technique activated instantly. He had been gravely wounded by Goth earlier, his mana severely depleted, but after two months of convalescence he had recovered to about seventy‑or‑eighty percent. Though now he carried Pei Er, the distance to the town was still covered in an instant.

What unfolded before their eyes was a hellish scene.