Xiao Ye stood in a world of swirling blade light, each stroke resembling flickering flames.
"Pressure!" His eyes lit up as he once again sensed that awe-inspiring force. This must be martial intent. He focused intently, but soon frowned. How does one even begin to grasp martial intent? The question left him clueless, surrounded by endless steel.
Whoosh!
Just as frustration crept in, Xiao Ye's expression shifted. His true Qi was draining at an alarming rate—the Flame Blade had transformed into a black hole, devouring his energy. Even his extraordinary reserves dwindled rapidly.
Is this blade mocking me? He felt like crying.
Boom!
Suddenly, the blade storm vanished. Before him stood a towering figure, blurred but unmistakably wielding a colossal blade. The man exuded dominance, as if ruling the heavens themselves.
"The Flame Blade's original owner!" Xiao Ye's gaze glued to the weapon. Could this be the Xuanwu Realm powerhouse who once wielded it? The familiar true Qi vibration matched what the blade had stolen from him.
So, the blade's previous master left this illusion by channeling his energy through me. Xiao Ye deduced.
Whoosh!
The colossal figure raised the blade and slashed downward, a radiant stroke that split the void. Xiao Ye's pupils dilated.
This strike carries martial intent! The oppressive force nearly suffocated him.
The figure trembled, then disintegrated into ash.
Why did he vanish? Xiao Ye realized—The second strike required even more energy. My true Qi wasn't enough.
He grinned. I'll need to grow stronger to see that second strike.
The first strike's essence etched into his mind. With this, I can dominate peers and even crush higher realms. Combined with the Heavenly Net Skill, his power would skyrocket.
Returning to reality, Xiao Ye replenished his Qi with the Heavenly Net Skill. Gripping the Flame Blade, he replayed the strike in his mind.
Whoosh! He mimicked the motion, but the result was limp, lacking grandeur.
Focus on the intent, not the form, he realized. Re-entering the blade's realm, he watched the figure strike again—then vanish.
Same issue. Frustrated, Xiao Ye retreated to the Time Tower, spending months dissecting the strike.
Wrong. Wrong again.
Days blurred into weeks. Finally, clarity struck. The key isn't speed or trajectory—it's the oppressive aura!
Stepping into the courtyard, Xiao Ye stood motionless like a statue. Su Ying appeared, watching him curiously.
He's training, she thought, unaware of his struggle.
Three hours later, Xiao Ye moved. Blades flashed chaotically, then coalesced into a single, earth-shaking slash.
It worked! Ecstatic, he understood—This is the Blade of Oppression, fueled by martial intent.
"Martial intent of fire," he murmured, recalling the Black Dragon Chronicles. Only one who grasped such intent could ascend to the Xuanwu Realm. The Flame Blade amplified its power, letting him crush peers effortlessly.
This is the first strike of the Blade of Oppression!
Whoosh!
A sound snapped him back. Su Ying gaped, shaken by the aura radiating from him.
"Xiao Ye, are you alright?" she asked, voice trembling.
"Fine. I'm leaving." Xiao Ye turned to depart. His mission in Wutang City complete, he'd return to Qingyang Town. Blood Wolf's gang would soon face his wrath.