Chapter 965: Chapter 964: Achievement_1
The sixth circle of stone pillars.
Six blurry shadows advanced and retreated, barely forming a tactical system that gave Shi Xiaole no chance for a quick decisive strike and forced him to rely on attrition to injure them.
For anyone else, this would have been an insurmountable limit, struggling even to last for fifty moves.
However, to Uncle Wang’s astonishment, just after a mere twenty moves, Shi Xiaole had taken control of the situation.
Under his swordplay, the six blurry shadows were like sand flickering in the waves, appearing to encircle him, yet in reality posing no threat; instead, Shi Xiaole picked them off one by one, breaking through each shadow.
This challenge took Shi Xiaole sixty-six moves, leaving him entirely unscathed.
Yan Zhen’s chest heaved violently.
He remembered his master saying that those who passed the sixth stage were once-in-a-millennium geniuses, and every stage they passed after that represented a higher level of prowess. To date, only his master had smoothly cleared all stages.
Yan Zhen did not know which stage Shi Xiaole could reach; all he knew was that his master had taken eighty-five moves to get through the sixth stage.
It couldn’t be said that Shi Xiaole was better than his master based on this; that was impossible. Everyone had their own style. Shi Xiaole was clearly a ’strike-to-kill’ type, while his master was a ’stronger against stronger’ type.
But at the very least, it proved that Shi Xiaole’s strength within his tier was far more than what it seemed; so where was his limit, at the seventh stage, or the eighth?
Or perhaps...
Considering this possibility made Yan Zhen’s heart lurch. He sneaked a glance at God, seeing his face flushed with excitement, and couldn’t help taking several deep breaths before turning his gaze back to the scenes depicted on the cyan stone.
The sixth stage was several times more difficult than the fifth, while the seventh stage was many times harder than the sixth. Sword Qi that matched his own strength came at him from all directions. Shi Xiaole moved his body, dodging in succession in a way that defied the laws of physiology, and struck back with his sword.
Clang, clang, clang...
Sparks flew in clusters.
The essence of the Wandering Dust Battle Method lay in striking first, luring the enemy with force. Over the years, Shi Xiaole’s understanding of it had deepened beyond what he had reached back in Rainbow State. After ninety-seven moves, he seized the initiative and pierced through one of the blurry shadows.
With that, the difficulty began to diminish.
Fifty-three moves later, a second shadow shattered.
Then came the third, the fourth, the fifth...
After three hundred sixty-six moves, Shi Xiaole passed the stage.
"This lad is truly beyond expectations!"
Uncle Wang’s eyes shone brightly, almost unable to stop himself from cheering for Shi Xiaole.
Frankly, he had never thought he’d leave the Heaven King Tomb, because apart from the Holy Monarch and God-like figures, who could possibly clear all nine stages?
Now, he seemed to see a glimmer of dawn, although it was still faint and could be extinguished at any moment.
The eighth stage.
At this point, Shi Xiaole also finally felt the pressure. Amid stacked layers of sword winds, any carelessness could result in a hit; every move and strike had to be made with full effort, leaving no room for error.
This time it took him a full one thousand two hundred thirty-two moves to successfully clear the eighth stage.
"Young man, don’t rush into the ninth stage, take a good rest!"
Uncle Wang shouted anxiously from the side. Excited, he tried to stand up, causing the virtual chains that surrounded him to clank loudly.
In extreme excitement, one could become fearful of loss, and even Uncle Wang was no exception.
That was the ninth stage, after all, a level that only historical top geniuses could enter and not necessarily pass. He feared that Shi Xiaole’s excessive energy consumption would squander this opportunity.
Shi Xiaole nodded.
He didn’t think he would fail, but being completely sure couldn’t be wrong.
Inside the courtyard with mottled walls.
"This lad truly has his father’s spirit."
God laughed heartily, rocking his whole chair.
If he wished, nothing that happened in the Heaven King Tomb could be hidden from him, but before Shi Xiaole’s challenge, God couldn’t be bothered to care.
Elephants aren’t interested in watching ants, which is why God had no idea about Shi Xiaole’s previous great battles, or he wouldn’t have been so surprised.
Looking at Shi Xiaole, who had an extraordinary demeanor and seemed like a young Sword Emperor, God saw a peculiar sparkle in his eyes, as if he had spotted a young elephant among a pile of ants, one that would hopefully grow to become one of its kind.
"There are too few men like me, and sometimes I really get lonely, especially since the second great battle between heaven and earth is inevitable. When the time comes... rather than..."
God murmured to himself, and gradually the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but turn into a wicked smile, similar to a mischievous bad boy who loved pranks.
Seeing his master with this expression, Yan Zhen couldn’t help shivering as chills crept into him from his pores.
After adjusting for half a 2-hour period, despite Uncle Wang’s dissuasion, Shi Xiaole entered the ninth stage.
"The rest was too short, sigh..."
Uncle Wang beat his chest and stomped his feet in frustration.
Without having been trapped in one place for six hundred years, no one can truly understand how desperately Uncle Wang wanted to get out. Now, Shi Xiaole had become the sole repository of all his hopes.
Nine blurry silhouettes, ghostly in appearance, not only refrained from attacking but dispersed in every direction at the first opportunity. Should Shi Xiaole ever lose control, he would be faced with their endless and myriad deadly sequences - not even a god could withstand them.
Of course, Shi Xiaole wasn’t going to give them that chance.
His sword unsheathed, Shi Xiaole for the first time pushed Wandering Dust to its limits, the sword light in his hand so fast it lost its shadow, leaving only streaks of light that instantly engulfed the nine blurry silhouettes.
Sword Qi flashed through the air.
Seven blurry silhouettes charged at Shi Xiaole, as if they possessed their own consciousness, drawing most of the momentum from Wandering Dust. The remaining two continued to retreat and soon broke free from his control.
But Shi Xiaole had no intention of letting them have their way. As the seven blurry silhouettes moved, he already responded, shifting his position with his sword’s momentum enveloping everything around him.
Within the circle formed by nine stone pillars, the light flashed wildly or condensed continuously, sometimes unfurling like a roll of lotuses reaching for the sky, other times surging like a tsunami, with the unchanging fact being Shi Xiaole’s unyielding control of the situation.
The process was fraught with danger.
With the nine blurry silhouettes capable of countless evolutions, and each adaptation could lead to numerous different outcomes, Shi Xiaole had to instantly offer the most accurate response.
Any slightest deviation from this process would result in the loss of control and being engulfed by the nine blurry silhouettes turning the tide completely against him.
It could be said that ordinary people simply do not possess the ability to calculate to such an extent, let alone possess such combat skills bordering the divine, not just Uncle Wang and Yan Zhen, even God himself was watching without blinking.
One hundred moves.
Two hundred moves.
With every move that passed, the drain on Shi Xiaole was dozens of times more than under normal conditions, yet he remained calm. The contest was about making no mistakes because once a mistake was made, it would be the beginning of breaking the stalemate.
Shi Xiaole had to admit, the trial here was much more difficult than the one set by the old man who played the zither years ago. However, this also indirectly proved that his strength, amongst his peers, was still improving.
In the blink of an eye, six hundred moves had passed.
A tingling pain, like needles, began to prickle in Shi Xiaole’s brain, a sign of his mental energy being greatly depleted.
Uncle Wang, watching from afar, had sweaty palms from nervousness, fearing that in the next moment Shi Xiaole might make a mistake and be surrounded, a scenario leaving almost no chance for recovery.
At the seven hundredth move, the pain in his brain intensified, but Shi Xiaole’s expression remained resolute, and his sword kept swinging, seemingly unaffected.
By this juncture, each additional strike he made compounded his mental burden, his complexion growing paler, causing Uncle Wang to hold his breath.
Even Yan Zhen, watching from afar, tensed up, but couldn’t take his eyes off the battle, eager to see whether Shi Xiaole could measure up to his master.
The young man in black sat upright in the rocking chair, an inscrutable smile on his face, and profound depth in his gaze, impenetrable to others.
The vast courtyard was devoid of the slightest breath of wind.
The seven hundred and eighty-sixth move.
Just as Shi Xiaole thrust his sword, his mental scan immediately alerted him to a brief pause in the actions of one blurry silhouette, three hundred meters to his right.
An opportunity.
Unprecedented, a one and only chance!
Vigorous Air surged throughout his body, channeling into his hands; Shi Xiaole, like a swift arrow, darted forward, and while mid-air, the Spring Fury Sword lashed out with unprecedented ferocity, leaving behind a lingering sword scar.
Whoosh—a sound was made!
At the end of the sword scar, the blurry silhouette froze, shattering into points of light from head to toe.
Uncle Wang’s mouth dropped open, his heartbeat ceased, his blood stilled, his entire body feeling electrified as every pore opened and his throat emitted a sound like a blower in full swing.
Seizing the opportunity to break free, the eight blurry silhouettes rapidly changed formation, some charging forward and others zooming sideways, setting off an invisible tumultuous wave aimed directly at Shi Xiaole.
But Shi Xiaole was as if oblivious, one sword strike gaining leverage, he swiftly launched a series of rapid attacks, stabbing hundreds of times in succession. The sounds of collisions, ting ting ting, filled the air as sparks almost drowned out all the silhouettes.
Shi Xiaole couldn’t fend off the assault of nine blurry silhouettes, but faced with the attack of the eight, he managed to persevere for dozens of moves, gradually regaining control.
After several hundred moves, he successfully dispatched the second blurry silhouette.
Shi Xiaole was extremely tired, the previous contest was about who made no mistakes, now it was about who could last longer. In a moment where the scales of victory were tipping in his favor, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall first.
In the midst of three pairs of eyes showing different emotions, Shi Xiaole’s sword technique’s lethality gradually declined, yet he continued to vanquish one blurry silhouette after another.
The five thousand eight hundred and ninety-sixth move.
Shi Xiaole sidestepped, mustering remaining strength, and sent a sword through the chest of the ninth blurry silhouette, shredding it before kneeling on the ground, gasping for air.
Agony mixed with fatigue surged towards him like a tide, yet mentally, he felt an indescribable sense of satisfaction, and after this battle, Shi Xiaole faintly felt that his strength had risen once more.
"You passed, you actually passed..."
Uncle Wang’s lips quivered uncontrollably, his speech became incoherent, and his old face flushed red.
When a wish so extravagant one dares not even think about it truly happens before one’s eyes, alongside excitement and joy, Uncle Wang felt a hint of bewilderment.
But soon, as he looked at Shi Xiaole, who remained kneeling on the ground, the bewilderment faded, replaced by undisguised gratitude, his eyes misting over.
