Chapter 580: Opening

The first Sword Guest match of the Sword Fighting began in silence.

Black mist quickly filled the venue, and all the Sword Fighters remained tacitly silent, moving forward on tiptoe.

The swamp was difficult to traverse, especially since this was a special swamp released by the Abyss Sculpture, formed by layers of condensed shadows. Even with the most top-tier light-body techniques, it was hard to tread across the water without leaving a trace; the slightest contact with the surface stirred up countless smoke-like shadows. Though thin, those shadows were like ropes, wrapping around limbs, trying to drag people down into the abyss.

Usually, in the wild, Sword Guests would choose to travel by floating. But this competition venue was set to forbid flight. Sword fighting in the air was prohibited to avoid affecting the spectator stands. At the same time, hovering slightly was not forbidden, but it was a heavy burden. It felt as if a Mount Tai were pressing down on the swamp, making everyone feel heavy.

If one insisted on hovering, the higher one floated, the more the gravity would continue to increase, causing physical strength to be consumed at an accelerated rate and leading to a disadvantage in battle.

No one would choose that; after all, while increasing speed might win the match, caution and knowing how to preserve oneself were what allowed one to survive.

Since this chase-competition rule was adopted, there was no longer a requirement for everyone to fight desperately or charge forward, nor was it implicitly assumed that one must offer up their own blood to present pleasure to their Master. Instead, one had to adopt strategies to win, putting victory first, so appropriately preserving strength was allowed.

Of course, one could not go too far; as a slave, if one only thought about saving one's life and slacking off, causing one's own side to lose the match, it was very likely that the Master would be enraged, and not a single person would survive.

If it were a month, or even half a month ago, the Sword Guests of Sunset Manor at least would have fought desperately to move forward and taken the initiative to charge, and the scene might have fallen into a fierce battle from the start, but many things had been quietly changing over these past half a month.

Battle was no longer the most important thing.

Thus, the Sword Fighting began in silence. It fell into a boring, dull state. Although the spectator stands overlooked the entire situation from above, the distance was great, and there was thin smoke obstructing the view, so it was actually blurry. They only saw everyone enter and go into hiding, moving one step at a time, looking in all directions, their speed of advance like that of a snail.

In these stands, without background music or commentary to liven up the atmosphere, watching this kind of grinding match was naturally tedious. Boos erupted all at once; the audience, who had just been saying the rules were interesting and the organizers were thoughtful, were greatly dissatisfied and shouted one after another, "What kind of bullshit rules are these? It would be better to just go at it with blades and guns."

Of course, even if they protested, with the Abyss Envoy above, no one could be presumptuous. The Sword Fighting had already begun, and it would eventually lead to battle.

Xing Qing was trekking through the swamp; she had drawn the lot for the later path, and her first opponent was ahead.

The moment she drew the lot, she felt unlucky—chase and escape; it sounded better to be the chaser, but if changed to first and last, who didn't know that first was better than last?

Those who entered first not only had the advantage in speed but could also reach favorable terrain first to set up an ambush, or reach a fork in the road first to meet up with teammates and turn back to clear out the opposition with superior numbers; in short, they were more proactive. She had very much hoped to draw the lot to enter first.

But there was no help for it; this drawing of lots was quite fair and relied entirely on luck. Even though she was the Grand Steward of Sunset Manor, analogous to Xing Cang of Changfa Manor, and possessed considerable power, the drawing of lots was hosted by Changyi Manor and supervised by the Abyss Envoy, so she had no special treatment; bad luck was just bad luck.

Her only advantage was that through a small observation device, she had clearly seen who the person ahead of her on this path was.

Fang Weiran.

That was the name, right?

Just as Tang Zhao had conducted an investigation beforehand, their Sunset Manor had also conducted an investigation, researching the opponent's intelligence. Both sides could be considered evenly matched to a certain extent—both had internal intelligence provided by moles.

As it happened, this Fang Weiran was one of those for whom Xing Qing possessed data.

It was just that this data was not very detailed; for example, regarding this Fang Weiran, Xing Qing knew he was a trusted aide of the Longhair Lord, had followed from the Waijie, and never left his side. She also knew his name and place of origin, but regarding his cultivation, Sword Intent, and Sword Image, she only had a rough understanding.

The Sword Image was unknown; it was said this person was particularly skilled at self-preservation and even had a Sword Art that made him invincible for a short time. It could be a sturdy shield, or it could be etherealization, or redirection... In short, this person was skilled at first immunizing against attacks and then suddenly counterattacking when the opponent was caught off guard and lost their composure.

If one didn't know about this move, it would be too easy to fall for it, but once known, it was just so-so.

Xing Qing sneered inwardly: An impenetrable shield? It just so happened that she had a spear that could pierce anything.

She would like to see which was stronger, the spear or the shield.

Now, the key was to be able to find him.

Moving forward, Xing Qing observed her surroundings with sufficient detail, but she could never find a trace of that person. She was familiar with the map and calculated inwardly: she was likely not far from the fork in the road. Once past that fork, she would leave the single-lane path and would have to guard against more enemies.

She felt increasingly uneasy: although there were eight people in total, all striving to win, Sword Guests were not all the same; some Sword Guests were pinned with high hopes.

It was like horse racing, divided into top-tier horses, middle-tier horses, and lower-tier horses. The top-tier horse was meant to win; even in the model of Tian Ji horse racing, the top-tier horse had to beat the middle-tier horse, and the top-tier horse of a powerhouse had to beat everyone, regardless of who the opponent was or what strategy they played.

Xing Qing was a top-tier horse; even if there were invited expert reinforcements among those eight people, she was the sharpest blade of Sunset Manor. She had to win, and winning against just one person was not enough. Her tactic was to occupy the advantage from the start, cleanly and neatly kill the first opponent, and then expand the results.

Suffering a setback at the first step made her very distressed.

She didn't know what the Longhair Lord's temper was like, but the Sunset Master, her Master, had given a death order; if she couldn't do it, she would truly die. And die miserably.

She had experienced this situation of only being able to win and not lose many times; in the past, she wouldn't think too much about it. Thinking too much was useless; the distinction between master and slave was fated, so she would just charge forward.

But today, when she thought of this, her heart stirred, and she thought to herself: Since I have to die anyway, should I try that?

That chance to break free from control?

Just today...

She had actually known about this for a long time, but she was still hesitant. She knew that besides her, the other Sword Guests of Sunset Manor also had this news. Because this news was almost vertically transmitted into the ears of every person, the Sword Slaves who heard it would naturally be tempted; it was Xing Qing who was the most conflicted.

In Sunset Manor, only she had some savings and was "wearing shoes," and ever since the Sunset Master became crippled, he had almost handed the power of the entire manor to her. Although she was still a servant in front of the Master, in front of other servants, she was almost the master. She could be called a person of status who enjoyed wealth and glory.

Anyway, life was only a few decades, or even just over a decade; ending one's life in Sunset Manor wasn't impossible. She even had the impulse to report this to the Master to claim credit, yet in the end, she gave it up.

If she said it and betrayed all the White-haired Swordsmen, even if only one Sword Guest remained alive, they would tear her to pieces.

She hadn't been that active before, but at this moment, amidst her irritation, a thought couldn't help but surface: What if she just ran away too?

Just as this thought surfaced, the battle-hardened Xing Qing lost her focus.

"Whew, whew—"

The sound of a Bamboo Whistle rang out.

Xing Qing was suddenly startled—this was her Bamboo Whistle sound. It was her probing Sword Art that had reacted.

This whistle sounded in her ear, but the source was far away. Only when the wind from the opposite side blew into the Bamboo Whistle she wore like an earring on her ear would the whistling sound. Although this whistle was brief, it sounded like a complete sentence to her, clearly stating the direction, distance, and movement of the incoming enemy.

Found him!

At this moment, all distracting thoughts vanished; Xing Qing kicked off the ground and flew out suddenly—she still couldn't fly in the swamp, but her explosive speed was faster than flying!

Halfway there, her long sword was unsheathed.

At this time, she hadn't even seen a shadow, yet she struck out fiercely based solely on the sound of the Bamboo Whistle, accurately stabbing toward the direction she had judged. Because she had one hundred percent trust in her sword!

As her sword swung out, several bamboo segments appeared around the sword simultaneously. They were not small bamboo sticks, but a large bamboo that had been split into segments.

The several bamboo segments were like small swords, flying out in a circle, as if the Sword Light had split, magnifying the power of the great sword tenfold.

Halfway through the stab, she saw the shadow in the black smoke.

It was Fang Weiran.

Although the human form was undoubtedly Fang Weiran, his whole body was faint, exceeding the limit of the blurry human outline of the black-and-white filtered shadow, almost like the moment before the Abyss Envoys faded away into shadows.

Stab—

Even though Fang Weiran's state was very strange, almost not like a real person, Xing Qing just stabbed toward him.

Her style was just like that; whether it would hit or not, stab a sword first!

One sword, ten bamboo stalks, striking simultaneously!

This thrust could not be called anything but fast, skimming past the Shadow to pierce directly in front of Fang Weiran; the opponent had no time to react before being run through.

However...

Nothing happened; this strike seemed to have stabbed into a shadow, passing through without the slightest obstruction.

Retreat!

Xing Qing reacted in almost an instant, circling the sword back.

This reaction was extremely fast; the sword retreated almost faster than it had advanced.

But only the sword in her hand could retreat; the other bamboo stalks were still flying forward.

Ssh—

There was almost no sound; several broken bamboo stalks split apart, shattering into Fragments.

That was not being smashed or chopped, but shredded. Those bamboo stalks seemed to have been caught in a flying, spinning propeller, shredded into Fragments at high speed.

Fang Weiran looked up and smiled.

At this moment, Xing Qing only felt danger approaching and urgently retreated backward again.

In an instant, the thin Shadow mist in front also shattered completely, and the surroundings became as chaotic as a boiling pot of porridge.

What kind of thing could shred even a shadow?

"So that's it, it's space!"

The so-called invincibility is just the virtualization of manipulating space?

Just as expected!

Xing Qing gave a cold sneer: Once known, it is no longer terrifying. Manipulating space sounds unsolvable, but in the world of Sword Art, it is still far from invincible.

Then how about this move?

In front of her, a section of bamboo appeared, positioned vertically toward her.

"Sword Art—Like Splitting Bamboo!"