Chapter 49: Sword-Art

Dao Wei knew he had to act quickly before they could fully organize.

He advanced through the base, his path marked by fallen adversaries. As he rounded a corner, he came face-to-face with a group of elite disciples. Leading them was a tall guy with a scar across his face, sneering at Dao Wei.

"So, you're the intruder causing all this chaos," the man said, drawing his sword. "You've made a grave mistake coming here."

Dao Wei's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on his Sabre. "Your sect has brought nothing but suffering and death. Since I'm here, of course, you can only pay with blood."

"Ignorant!"

With a roar, the elite disciples charged at Dao Wei. 

Clang! Clang! Clang!

He met them head-on, his movements a blur of speed and precision. The clash of steel echoed through the corridors as Dao Wei engaged in a fierce battle. His Void Sword technique was flawless, each strike calculated and deadly.

One of the disciples lunged at him, but Dao Wei sidestepped the attack, countering with a swift slash that sent the disciple's head crashing to the ground while his body remained standing. 

Another disciple aimed a powerful strike at Dao Wei's head, but he ducked, using his Ethereal Step to vanish from sight and reappear behind his opponent. 

"That's fast!"

Clang!

With a quick, decisive quick-fast strike, second one down.

One bulky guy of the elite disciples growled in frustration, watching as his comrades fell one by one. 

He charged at Dao Wei, his abnormally long sword glowing with a dark, ominous energy. "You'll pay for this!" he shouted, swinging his sword with all his might.

Dao Wei met the attack head-on, their swords clashing with a thunderous impact. The force of the blow sent a shockwave through the corridor, causing the walls to tremble. 

Dao Wei pushed back, his eyes locked on his opponent's. "Still not qualified."

With a surge of Qi, Dao Wei unleashed the full power of the Ethereal Slash. His blade glowed with a brilliant light as he struck with lightning speed producing slashes that traveled through the air as invisible, nearly undetectable energy waves. 

The bulky guy tried to block, but Dao Wei's attack was too fast, too powerful. The bulky guy's long sword shattered, and he fell to the ground.

Bang!

"Too strong!"

There was a trail of sword Qi on the huge scar left on his chest. The sword had cut so deep that his bones could be seen, and his internals were all squashed to a pile of blood, while the sword Qi kept destroying his foundation. It only took a moment before he took his last breath.

Bang!

The bulky guy fell onto his knees, never to get up again. His skull fractured and his heart pierced.

The battlefield was a blood-soaked arena of despair, bodies strewn in the wake of Dao Wei's unrelenting advance. His steps were slow and methodical, a stark contrast to the tempest of emotions raging within. Anger, hatred, and an unfamiliar, overpowering desire burned through him, fueling his every move.

"Enough talk. Let's fight." His voice was cold, a chilling declaration that echoed through the lifeless surroundings. Even as he spoke, Dao Wei's Spiritual Power surged, but he deliberately held it just below the Nascent Spirit Realm, a calculated restraint.

"The Peak Stage of the Golden Core Realm?" The tall man's surprise was quickly replaced by outrage. His face turned an angry shade of crimson, his pride wounded. "You dare underestimate me?"

As the first disciple of the outer sect, he considered himself invincible, a formidable force. Yet here he stood, facing an opponent who was merely at the Peak Stage of the Golden Core Realm. The thought alone was enough to ignite his fury.

"Go to hell!" he roared, his long sword slicing through the air with a ferocity that produced a sharp sonic boom. In an instant, he closed the ten-meter gap between them, his sword aimed directly at Dao Wei.

Dao Wei's eyes narrowed, but his movements remained fluid and precise. The Dragon Sabre was out of its sheath before the tall man could blink, its blade creating a blur of shadows too fast for the eye to follow. With a swift, powerful stroke, Dao Wei met the incoming attack head-on, his Spiritual Power surging to its peak.

Clang!

The sound of metal striking metal reverberated through the air as their weapons collided. Dao Wei twisted his wrist expertly, the Dragon Sabre slipping past the tall man's sword with a ghostly finesse. In a heartbeat, the Sabre was poised to slice through his opponent's hands.

"This sword art…!" The tall man's disdain evaporated, replaced by a dawning realization of the skill his opponent wielded.

Though the technique was simple, its execution was flawless. Dao Wei's swordsmanship was nothing short of extraordinary, each movement clean, efficient, and devoid of unnecessary flourish. It was clear that he had a profound understanding of the sword, his foundation as solid as the earth beneath their feet.

"Die!" the tall man bellowed, swinging his long sword with all his might. His sheer strength repelled Dao Wei's strike, and he quickly moved to launch a counterattack.

But Dao Wei was faster. "Whether it's your sword or your movement, both are too clumsy," he taunted, his voice barely above a whisper, yet cutting through the tension like a blade. His sword blurred into motion, a relentless barrage of ethereal shadows that left no room for the tall man to breathe, let alone fight back.

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd that had gathered to witness the duel. This was no ordinary battle. They watched in disbelief as a warrior of the Golden Core Realm, often considered inferior in strength, dominated a Late Nascent Spirit Realm warrior with ease.

"Interesting," mused a middle-aged man in a loose green robe, a slight smile playing on his lips as he observed the fight. "This young one has remarkable swordsmanship."

The man was an Elder of the White Lotus Sect, his insight as sharp as his reputation. He recognized the brilliance in Dao Wei's technique at a glance. "If I'm not mistaken, he's using the Yang Sword Art of the Taiji Sect. It's a First-class Sword Art, but he's mastered it to an exceptional level. His every move is precise, with no wasted effort. His talent in Sword Principles is extraordinary."

He continued to watch, noting the stark difference between Dao Wei's refined technique and the tall man's brutish approach. "The other one relies on brute strength, but it's clear he's no match in terms of skill. If not for his superior Spiritual Power, he would've lost from the outset."

On the ground, the clash between the two warriors reached a fever pitch. The tall man, now fully aware of his disadvantage, felt panic creeping into his heart. "How can this be? How can his sword be so fast?" Desperation gripped him as he unleashed everything he had.

"Ahhhhh!" He roared, his eyes ablaze with fury as he channeled all his remaining strength into a final, desperate assault.

Boom!

The air around them seemed to explode as the tall man released his most powerful technique. The long sword in his hands became a blur, attacking with a ferocity that left Dao Wei no choice but to defend with all his might.

"Look! Zhao Lin is using his ultimate move!" someone in the crowd exclaimed, pointing out the signature technique that had made Zhao Lin famous within the Death Zen Sect.

The Seven Beasts Destruction technique was as fearsome as it was relentless. Each strike was stronger and more savage than the last, a chain of attacks that could overwhelm even the most formidable opponent.

Dao Wei felt the pressure mounting as he blocked each successive blow, his arms growing numb from the sheer force of the strikes. Zhao Lin's final, eighth strike was the strongest, his Spiritual Power pushed to its absolute limit.

"Die!" Zhao Lin screamed, his face contorted with rage as he launched the final blow.

But Dao Wei's eyes flashed with a cold, murderous intent. "Courting death!" he hissed.

In that instant, his sword moved faster than the eye could follow, a blazing-hot shadow that vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Vivid red splattered into the air.

Zhao Lin's victorious grin froze on his face, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. A single, precise cut had opened his throat, a fatal wound that silenced him forever.