Chapter 18: Chapter Eighteen: The Ultimate Limit of Mortal Sword Art—Ten Steps, One Kill

Yangshan Daoist had three talismanic artifacts besides his Qiankun Bag.

They were the Five-Light Pendant, the Six-Yin Celestial Ghost Banner, and the Thunderfire Thunderbolt Pearl.

Though the Five-Light Pendant and the Six-Yin Celestial Ghost Banner were low-grade talismanic artifacts, the Thunderfire Thunderbolt Pearl was a mid-grade talismanic artifact!

That day, after untying Yangshan Daoist’s Qiankun Bag.

Inside, besides two hundred talisman coins, there were two vials of detoxifying pills, an inferior Qi-condensation technique, and a vial of Treasure Yellow Pills to nourish the flesh.

According to Chen Hang’s thinking, he only sought the Thunderfire Thunderbolt Pearl for self-protection; all else belonged to Xu Zhi.

Even so, he still gained a great advantage.

After all, a mid-grade talismanic artifact was rarely seen on the market; though three low-grade talismanic artifacts roughly equaled the value of one mid-grade artifact, the accounting was never so simple—it often carried a premium of several tenths.

Yet Xu Zhi insisted on taking only the Six-Yin Celestial Ghost Banner and preparing to take his leave.

After much persuasion and back-and-forth, Chen Hang ended up taking the Thunderfire Thunderbolt Pearl and the Qiankun Bag, plus one vial of Treasure Yellow Pills, while Xu Zhi accepted the Six-Yin Celestial Ghost Banner, the Five-Light Pendant, the talisman coins, and other miscellaneous items.

Afterwards, Xu Zhi did not linger; he rested one night and then departed for Xiao Gan Mountain.

The original disciples of the mountain and countless women kidnapped by Yangshan Daoist for his pleasures were all dismissed, each carrying gold and silver to scatter in all directions.

Yet in the blink of an eye.

This cultivation sect, once among the foremost in the Lanliang City region, dissolved like birds and beasts, leaving only Chen Hang alone in the mountains, cultivating in solitude.

…

“Pity I couldn’t find Yangshan Daoist’s body-cultivation technique—not only was it absent from his Qiankun Bag, but I searched the entire Yangshan Mountain and found no trace.”

At this thought, Chen Hang could not help but feel regret.

Yangshan Daoist’s body-cultivation technique was extraordinary; not only was it unbreakable, but Xu Zhi’s sword could not so much as shake it.

Only because Yangshan Daoist himself was unskilled and failed to refine his neck as thoroughly as his chest and abdomen was he beheaded by Xu Zhi’s superior sword art, losing half his life.

Moreover, this technique not only hardened the body into an indestructible form but also granted boundless, immense strength—each palm strike or finger thrust shook the earth like divine punishment, terrifying indeed.

How could an ordinary Qi-condensation cultivator match such power?

It was nearly equal to that of a wild elephant ancient demon—and even subtly surpassed it.

Yet Yangshan Daoist, a rogue Daoist who had never learned the orthodox methods and knew no other techniques,

relied solely on his body and brute strength to hold his own against Xu Zhi for so long.

Had he not possessed this technique, he would have been beheaded in a single strike by Xu Zhi.

…

“The Xiao Chi Long Sword Scripture contains thirteen sword forms; my senior brother not only mastered them all, but also innovated, synthesizing the strengths of countless schools to attain the ultimate limit of mortal sword art—Ten Steps, One Kill.”

Chen Hang returned the Thunderfire Thunderbolt Pearl to his sleeve, lost in thought:

“Before leaving, my senior brother specifically warned me to study the Xiao Chi Long Sword Scripture carefully; if I could attain its ultimate limit—Ten Steps, One Kill—I would wield flying-talisman swords as naturally as my own limbs, slaying ordinary cultivators of my own realm as easily as slaughtering dogs…”

The Ultimate Limit of Mortal Sword Art—Ten Steps, One Kill.

This was the highest realm of mortal killing sword techniques, regardless of whether the opponent wore armor, wielded weapons, or stood alone or in numbers.

Within ten steps taken, blood must fall beneath the blade!

But Xu Zhi himself did not know that this “Ultimate Limit of Mortal Sword Art”—Ten Steps, One Kill—

in fact,

was merely another term for levels of sword mastery, just like Immortal Dao legends’ Sword Qi Thunder Sound, Sword Light Division, and Sword Refinement into Thread.

And within Dong Hunzhou,

the Zhongyi Sword Sect, one of the Eight Great Sects of the Xuanmen, had a clear rule:

Anyone who fails to attain Ten Steps, One Kill before age sixteen may not enter our sect.

…

“Since I haven’t yet entered the realm of that Qi-condensation technique, I might as well enter the Yizhen Dharma Realm to practice the Xiao Chi Long Sword Scripture.”

Chen Hang took a White Sun Pill, dissolved it in water, and swallowed it; he sat in meditation until the warm energy spread through his entire body.

He gripped a longsword, connected his spirit with Jin Chan, and instantly entered the Yizhen Dharma Realm.

…

As always, no sun, moon, or stars above; no grass, trees, or floating earth below.

In the empty, desolate Yizhen Dharma Realm, Chen Hang pointed at himself, and soon a golden light shone upon him, condensing into a page of golden scripture covered in characters.

…

【Mahā Śūnyatā Light Samādhi】

【Name】: Chen Hang.

【Technique】: Xiao Chi Long Sword Scripture (——), Qing Nang Herbal Scripture (——), Chen Clan Archery (Mastery).

【Artifact】: Thunderfire Thunderbolt Pearl (mid-grade talismanic artifact), Qiankun Bag (low-grade talismanic artifact).

【Cultivation】: Embryonic Breathing.

…

“The 【Mahā Śūnyatā Light Samādhi】 has revealed another use: if I encounter an artifact of unknown grade in the outside world, I can bring it into the Yizhen Dharma Realm and let 【Mahā Śūnyatā Light Samādhi】 illuminate it.”

“I’ve often heard that in the dark corners of Immortal Dao markets, black markets exist, teeming with all manner of demons and monsters; with 【Mahā Śūnyatā Light Samādhi】 to authenticate, perhaps one day I’ll stumble upon a hidden treasure…”

Chen Hang smiled faintly and erased the golden scripture.

He lifted his longsword and began practicing the thirteen sword forms step by step, following the diagrams and text of the Xiao Chi Long Sword Scripture.

Whirling Wind, Drawing Fire.

Three Suns First Crossing.

Fading Rainbow, Guarding the One.

Pear Blossoms Reflecting Snow…

…

In this realm without sun, moon, or stars, Chen Hang trained ceaselessly day and night; at first, he occasionally paused to drink water and rest.

But later,

whenever he felt hunger, thirst, or fatigue, Chen Hang simply slashed his own throat with his sword, replacing his mental image with a new one.

The new mental image reset all states, naturally free from hunger, thirst, fatigue, or any physical damage caused by sword practice.

This was an extremely self-punishing practice—

others might find it monotonous and unbearable.

But Chen Hang’s Dao heart was as cold and hard as iron; he found joy in it, even a peculiar fascination.

Thus,

he poured all his energy into it.

Until one day, four months later.

Chen Hang’s wrist suddenly trembled slightly; with that motion, the tip of his sword instantly split into seven points of cold light, like seven flying nails striking out violently, then converging into one.

“Seven Stars Illuminating the Sun—the final sword form of the Xiao Chi Long Sword Scripture—is complete…”

Chen Hang slowly sheathed his sword after a long while and sighed.

At this level of sword art, if he wished to continue ascending as before, mere relentless practice would no longer suffice—he must fight!

This was why, in the mortal martial world, swordsmen always sought to test their blades across the land.

The sudden insight born of life-or-death struggle was worth more than a decade of solitary contemplation.

But sword duels were brutally dangerous; one misstep meant shattered sword and dead body—this was why, though mortal swordsmen were numerous, those who attained Ten Steps, One Kill were rarer than a needle in a haystack.

“Senior brother, please instruct me.”

Chen Hang summoned Xu Zhi’s mental image and bowed slightly.

Xu Zhi’s mental image said nothing.

Holding his sword in his left hand, he thrust straight forward—his movement natural, devoid of any artificiality, like a deer’s antler hanging from a tree.

“Good!”

Chen Hang laughed and raised his sword to meet it.

At the fortieth exchange, Xu Zhi suddenly changed his technique; Chen Hang could not dodge in time and was cleanly severed through half his skull.

…

“Good!”

Moments later, Chen Hang was reborn on the spot; even more delighted, he charged at Xu Zhi once more with his sword.

This time, though he held out until the forty-seventh strike, he still lost, cut cleanly in half at the waist by Xu Zhi’s sword.

…

Third time.

…

Fourth time.

…

Fifth time.

…

Sixth time.

…

Chen Hang had died countless times at Xu Zhi’s hands, but in every encounter, he never lasted beyond fifty strikes.

Xu Zhi’s sword technique was no longer human.

Kill once every ten steps!

At this moment, he did not seem like a man controlling his sword—his sword had gained a spirit of its own; it was the sword that controlled the man!

“Whirlwind Draws Fire!”

He turned offense into defense, barely parrying Xu Zhi’s strike aimed at his groin.

Chen Hang, now showing signs of weakness, no longer stubbornly held his ground but retreated dozens of steps away.

“Brother Chen, change your tactics.”

Chen Hang swept his sleeve, and a red-and-white glowing primordial pearl floated into midair, spinning gently.

“Please judge my Thunderfire Thunderbolt Primordial Pearl.”

He smiled faintly.

In midair, thunder roared and fire blazed forth with sudden intensity.