Chapter 662: This Old Man Is Acting Strange!

Staring at Zhongcun's dark gray afterimage that swept in like a death shadow, Lu Zhanlian's heart sank to Valley Bottom.

His body no longer obeyed him; the blood from those Injury wounds dyed his gray clothing dark red, and blood droplets clung to his white beard.

His knees were trembling, his arms were trembling, the Blade Intent had already scattered by more than half, and he had no strength even to lift himself.

He closed his eyes, and a vague, indescribable bitterness rose in his heart.

Yong'er, Master is incompetent, cannot help you take revenge.

If I see you Under the Nine Springs again, you won't blame Master, right?

He waited for death.

But after waiting a long time, that fatal palm never fell.

Lu Zhanlian's brows twitched, and he slowly opened his eyes.

Then he was stunned.

Zhongcun stood less than three feet in front of him, his right palm still holding the striking posture.

The Dark Gray True Qi in his palm solidified without dispersing, but the hand seemed fixed by something, hovering motionlessly in midair.

Zhongcun's face froze in a snarling expression, like a statue paused by someone.

Not only Zhongcun…

The flying shards of stone on the Arena also stopped in midair, and the drifting dust also solidified…

Even the people on the Stand who were shouting with Mouths open remained motionless, maintaining their previous pose, like a picture frozen at a single frame.

Throughout the world fell silent.

Lu Zhanlian's heartbeat missed a beat.

He thought he was dead, thought this was the moment before death when the soul separates from the body, so everything he saw was frozen at the final instant.

But the slight chill in the air felt too real; he could even feel his Injury wounds still throbbing faintly.

Just as his heart was full of Confusion, a voice entered his ear.

"Your blade practice is wrong."

Lu Zhanlian seemed to be burned by something, and blood surged to the top of his head in an instant.

He had cultivated Sha Po Lang Thirteen Swords his whole life, starting at fifteen and now in his sixties, a full fifty years.

He even rehearsed the Blade Method in his dreams, and even while eating his fingers unconsciously traced the blade's trajectory.

For this Blade Method, he never married in his life, pouring all his heart and blood into his disciple.

He thought he had honed this Blade Method to the extreme, to the pinnacle he could reach in his lifetime.

But now someone says he practiced it wrong?

It is an outrageous humiliation!

"Who?"

Lu Zhanlian snapped his head around and roared!

His gaze passed over the stagnant dust on the Arena, looking toward the direction the voice came from.

In midair, at an unknown time, a person appeared, his back turned to Lu Zhanlian.

Lu Zhanlian's Pupils narrowed slightly.

"Watch closely."

Then the figure moved.

His right arm lifted, moving very slowly.

The edge of his palm traced an arc in the air.

The arc's trajectory was not sharp, even bearing a gentle feel, like ripples spreading on water.

But Lu Zhanlian's eyes widened suddenly.

Is that the opening move of Sha Po Lang Thirteen Swords?

He had practiced for fifty years, able to draw it even with his eyes closed.

But this person's opening move differed slightly from his.

Lu Zhanlian opened his Mouth, wanting to say something, but the words fell back.

His gaze fixed on the silhouette in midair, on the pair of hands slowly swinging.

He saw the person's first slash fall; the Blade Intent was not sharp, not as if to cut anything, but more like searching in the air.

Then the second slash.

It was a bit faster than the first, the Blade Intent became more condensed, bearing a tentative caution.

Third slash.

Faster still, the Blade Intent began to take shape, like a beast slowly opening its eyes in darkness.

Fourth slash, fifth slash, sixth slash…

Each slash was smoother and more natural than the previous, the Blade Intent's shape becoming clearer and more concrete.

Lu Zhanlian watched those Blade Methods, becoming more entranced the longer he watched, more oblivious to himself.

He forgot the injury pain on his body, forgot that this was a life-or-death Arena, forgot that he was still bleeding.

In his world, only the gray silhouette in midair and the Blade Method he was performing with his hand remained.

Those Blade Methods bore familiar shadows, the foundation of Sha Po Lang Thirteen Swords remained, and between each slash's rise and fall lay the traces of his fifty years of practice.

But those subtle changes caused the entire Blade Method's temperament to undergo an earth-shattering transformation.

The killing intent he originally pursued was weakened; that fierce, cutting-all resolve vanished, replaced by something more primal, more profound.

Lu Zhanlian suddenly recalled the origin of this Blade Method.

Legend says the first Grandmaster, watching a wolf pack hunt, conceived this blade.

He had always thought that the Essence of the blade method lay in a single "kill" character.

Wolf packs hunt and kill, ferocious and with Cruelty, a single slash ends a life.

He had practiced for fifty years, solely on that kill character, making it ever harsher and sharper each time.

But at this moment, watching the blade method slowly evolving in midair, he suddenly realized he was wrong.

Wolf packs hunt, relying on more than just ferocity.

Wolves are beasts, yet they possess something scarier than ferocity… patience.

They lie in wait, they wait, and only at the moment their prey is most relaxed do they spring up to pounce.

They know restraint, they know endurance, and they know to deliver the deadliest strike at the most opportune moment.

He was too fixated on the kill character.

He poured all his strength into making the blade harsher, faster, sharper, yet he ignored the most fundamental aspect of this blade method!

Wolf Nature!

Lu Zhanlian's body jolted violently.

He Standing There, the blood on his body still flowing down, but he felt something in his Brain explode in that instant.

Those bottlenecks that had plagued him for decades, those hurdles he could never get past, were as if someone gently turned a key, and they all loosened.

His Mouth trembled, and his voice carried a Trembling he himself had not even noticed.

"I… I have awakened!"

His voice grew louder and louder, as if to expel the breath that had been blocked in his chest for decades.

"I… My 'Kill the Wolf' technique, practiced incorrectly! Hahaha!"

That laughter burst in the stagnant air, carrying a force that seemed ready to shatter the entire Arena.

Lu Zhanlian's clothing on his upper body explosively tore apart in that instant, fragments of cloth scattering, revealing his slender yet scar‑covered torso.

Those wounds still bled outward, yet the Qi and blood within him surged at an extremely terrifying speed.

His newly born power was re‑condensing within his flesh and Bone, operating, flowing, and exploding in an unprecedented way!

His aura was rising!

Throughout his whole being, a earth‑shaking transformation was occurring.

Those once withered Qi and blood seemed awakened, spurting anew from the dried Meridians, washing over every inch of his sinews and Bone.

He Throughout resembled a blade re‑forged, its cold glint flashing.

On the opposite side of the Arena, the stagnant air seemed shattered as if by something.

Zhongcun's body Recoveryed its mobility, his snarling visage still held in a striking pose, his hand, filled with Dark Gray True Qi, still pressing forward.

But he sensed something was off.

The blood‑soaked old man before him, whom he had battered nearly unable to stand, now emitted a changed aura.

That aura was no longer a dying withering, but something that made him wary from the depths of his soul, bearing primal wildness and oppression.

Zhongcun's Pupils narrowed slightly.

Something's wrong, this old man is off!