Chapter 73: A Contest of Blades

Lu Yan continued flipping through the manuals and soon found a body-forging martial art titled "Barbaric Elephant Form."

Diamond Body was a hard-style technique, but in essence, it too was a kind of body-forging art. Once the Barbaric Elephant Form was mastered, the subsidiary meridians throughout the body would be opened, focusing on tempering the physique. The practitioner's body would grow ever stronger, their strength rivaling that of an elephant, with explosive power and skin, tendons, and muscles as tough as the beast itself—greatly enhancing their defensive capabilities.

Lu Yan was very tempted; he could imagine how, once Barbaric Elephant Form and Diamond Body were combined, his defensive prowess would ascend to a new level.

He then selected another unique technique: "Heavenly Eagle Eye."

The eagle soars a thousand meters high, yet can spot prey ten miles away; its eyesight is unmatched. Once Heavenly Eagle Eye is mastered, the meridians around the eyes are opened and gradually strengthened, enhancing vision until it becomes as keen as an eagle's.

Such an art might not directly increase combat strength, but in truth, it was even more important than raw power—for it was a lifelong enhancement of a vital sense.

“Have you made your choices?” the shopkeeper, Li Shuo, asked as Lu Yan closed the manual.

“Do you have any archery techniques?” Lu Yan inquired, his longing for bow techniques still strong.

“My apologies, but we truly do not,” Li Shuo replied. “In the heyday of the Great Chu Dynasty, there was a strict prohibition: bows and crossbows were considered forbidden weapons—common martial artists were not allowed to use them, and even hunting bows required registration. Now, with the dynasty fallen and the warlords in chaos, the bans have long since become obsolete. Yet, archery techniques are still treated as forbidden arts by the great clans, taught only within armies. If any are found on the market, the clans collect and suppress them immediately.”

“After all, archery is too dangerous.”

Lu Yan understood. With fists, blades, or swords, no matter how skilled, one must close in to kill. But master archers could strike from afar, taking lives from a thousand meters away—how could the great clan leaders ever feel safe? Naturally, they would do everything to keep such arts from spreading.

The Hundred Herb Trading House, being a Li Clan enterprise, would never offer archery techniques for sale. It's not that they have none—they simply won't sell them.

Lu Yan could only set aside this obsession for the time being.

“Very well, tally up the total,” he said, his hands still roaming over the four beautiful legs around him.

“Windchasing Steps, four thousand taels. Diamond Fist, three thousand. Barbaric Elephant Form, four thousand. Heavenly Eagle Eye, five thousand. That's sixteen thousand taels in all. But since you're buying four second-tier martial arts at once, you get a twenty percent discount—the total comes to twelve thousand eight hundred taels,” Li Shuo said.

“I won’t haggle with you—let’s call it an even twelve thousand,” Lu Yan countered.

“Sir, you must know—the twenty percent discount is already the lowest price. Any less and... Ah, but I’ll make the decision—twelve thousand it is. I’ll cover the missing eight hundred myself, just to make a friend of you,” Li Shuo replied, feigning difficulty but finally relenting.

“Do you have any weapons here? Show me,” Lu Yan said, rising to his feet.

Soon, they entered the armory. Lu Yan looked around, but found nothing to his satisfaction.

“I need a weapon capable of withstanding a Martial Marquis’s Bone Force. Do you have anything like that?” Lu Yan asked.

“Weapons that can withstand Bone Force are considered divine arms,” Li Shuo replied. “Forgive my boldness, but may I ask your cultivation level?”

Lu Yan frowned. Asking about someone’s cultivation was a grave taboo.

Li Shuo quickly realized his misstep and apologized. “Forgive me, sir, I was out of line. But let me be candid: unless you are a Martial Marquis yourself, even if you have a divine weapon, if your body can't withstand Bone Force, the weapon alone is useless. For those below Martial Marquis, refined steel is more than enough.”

“So you have none?” Lu Yan pressed.

“We truly don't. The Li Clan has divine arms, of course, but they are all in the hands of the Martial Marquis lords—never for sale,” Li Shuo answered. Then, as if to redeem himself, his eyes lit up and he continued, “If you’re truly interested, I do have a recommendation. There’s a way to obtain a divine blade capable of withstanding Bone Force.”

A divine blade, no less.

Lu Yan’s interest was piqued. “What do you suggest?”

“In the north of the city lives a swordsman named Wang Dao. He’s a martial prodigy—began practicing at ten, and by forty had refined the second-tier art ‘Moon Reflecting Blade’ to a transcendent level. But he’s since hit a bottleneck. For over twenty years, he’s been unable to progress to the unity of man and blade. So, he set up an arena at his home, challenging all swordsmen under heaven: if anyone can defeat him in pure blade technique, without using vital energy, he will present them with his ancestral divine blade—the Crimson Blood Saber.”

“But in these three years, none have bested him. Few have even lasted ten moves.”

Lu Yan was intrigued. Thirty years to perfect a second-tier martial art—such a man truly deserved the name “martial prodigy.” Ordinary fighters might spend thirty years just to master a third-tier art. Second-tier arts were harder still; to perfect one in a lifetime was rare talent indeed—let alone to reach the transcendent level. Without a Daoist manual, Lu Yan doubted he could have done it himself.

To defeat such a man, one would need to have achieved unity of man and blade with a second-tier technique. No wonder no one had succeeded in three years.

But what others could not do, Lu Yan was confident he could.

“Will you lead the way?” Lu Yan asked.

“Of course,” Li Shuo agreed with a nod.

Lu Yan paid twelve thousand taels and received the four martial manuals, tucking them securely away. He then followed Li Shuo toward the northern part of the city.

Hundred Herb City was vast, far larger than Changfeng City; the northern district alone dwarfed all of Changfeng.

Wang Dao’s dwelling was modest—a weathered little courtyard with a simple arena set up within. It was quiet and deserted.

“Wang Dao! Someone has come to challenge your blade. Come out and face him!” Li Shuo called loudly.

After a while, an old man with disheveled hair wandered out from the inner room. Though his beard was graying and his frame robust, his gaze was vacant, filled only with confusion and doubt.

“This fellow’s probably been studying blade techniques again, nearly to obsession—it’s become a heart demon for him,” Li Shuo whispered.

“Who wishes to challenge me?” Wang Dao asked, casting a casual glance at Lu Yan and Li Shuo.

“I humbly request your instruction,” Lu Yan stepped forward, cupping his fists.

“You?” Wang Dao sized him up, frowning. “Are you even a swordsman? You don’t have a blade—how can you call yourself one?”

“My blade was destroyed in battle. I’ve heard you’ve set up this arena—that anyone who defeats you in blade technique alone will receive your ancestral blade as a prize?”

“Absolutely true,” Wang Dao confirmed.

“Can it withstand Bone Force?”

“Of course,” Wang Dao replied. To strengthen his claim, he added, “The Crimson Blood Saber was forged from crimson blood iron and several rare metals—it cuts through iron like mud and is indestructible.”

“Good. Then let’s begin. May I borrow a blade?” Lu Yan asked.

“Very well, I’ll humor you for a few moves,” Wang Dao said, returning inside and bringing out two black iron sabers, tossing one to Lu Yan.

The instant Lu Yan gripped the saber, his aura changed—his eyes grew sharp, and it was as though he and the blade were one, radiating a fierce edge.

Any expert could tell at a glance.

Wang Dao’s demeanor grew solemn, battle spirit flaring in his eyes.

“You may make the first move. If I attack, you’ll have no chance to draw your blade,” Lu Yan said.

Had Lu Yan spoken thus earlier, Wang Dao would have dismissed it as arrogance. Now, however, he believed it.

Excitement flashed in his eyes as he let out a low cry and charged, slashing at Lu Yan with his blade.

A crescent-shaped arc of light flashed through the air.

Then it split—one into two, two into four, four into eight...

In all, sixteen crescent-shaped arcs swept toward Lu Yan, their reality and illusion impossible to distinguish.

An ordinary opponent would be overwhelmed, flustered, and forced to retreat. This technique truly merited the title “transcendent.”

Yet Lu Yan did not move, his expression calm, as if he hadn’t even seen the arcs of light.

Only when they drew near did Lu Yan suddenly strike.

A flash of white in the air—instantly, the sixteen arcs shattered, and Lu Yan’s saber was at Wang Dao’s throat, less than an inch away.

Li Shuo froze. Wang Dao froze.

But then Wang Dao began to tremble with excitement, murmuring, “Such technique... This is the supreme realm I’ve sought all these years...”

The confusion in his eyes melted away; it was as if Lu Yan’s single stroke had cut through the haze before him, letting him glimpse hope once more.