Chapter 56 — A Thrust in the Dark

The young patriarch's face turned strange. That arm-thick qi of Shen Mu's — was that what one called a thread of qi? Was there such a thing as a qi thread so thick? A qi thread of such ferocious power? And what did it mean, that his qi was not yet strong enough? Never had he seen anyone at the Spirit Fetus realm with such a mighty cultivation of qi! This youth of Hidden Maim Village had pierced a bucket-thick wooden post with one thrust, and split mountain stone two feet thick with another; the power hidden in his qi threads already surpassed that of countless sword cultivators at the Spirit Fetus realm! The village head smiled faintly and gave Shen Mu a pointer: "That is it. You had not mastered the most basic motion in swordsmanship — the thrust. What if all your strength could be gathered into that single motion of thrusting? What if you could bring out every last ounce of your power?" Shen Mu could not believe it. He shook his head. "Riding the flying sword with qi only means using qi threads to command the blade. Qi threads are too soft — how could they ever bring out all one's strength?" "It can be done." The village head said unhurriedly, "You must make the sword a part of you, like your own hand. Now — raise your hand. Imagine a sword gripped in it. Your index and middle fingers rest against the blade. When your hand thrusts forward, the sword thrusts with it!" "A part of my own body?" Puzzled, Shen Mu once more curled his arm-thick qi threads around the precious sword. His right hand closed in an empty grip, thumb pressed over ring finger and little finger, index and middle fingers extended as though laid along the blade. He thrust forward. With a soft hiss, his qi threads carried the sword forward too; the keen blade sliced the air and gave out a shrill whistle! He could not help but be startled and delighted. Before, when he rode the flying sword with qi, the power stored in the blade had been at most a tenth of his own; now he felt the power within the sword double and redouble! The young patriarch laughed. "That is called the Sword Pinching Sign — the opening stance in the cultivation of swordsmanship. A moment ago, without even using the sign, you could already pierce through mountain stone. It seems the abundance of your qi surpasses even mine in my day!" The village head shook his head. "But it is not enough. The Sword Pinching Sign alone cannot overcome a master who has steeped himself in the sword way for decades. Shen'er — let your qi burst from your palm, and try again." Shen Mu obeyed. Qi threads coiled from his palm around the precious sword; he roused his qi and thrust forward once more, two fingers joined. Whoosh — His thrust raised a whirlwind, and within it the keen sword shrieked, harsh to the ear! The young patriarch's eye twitched. He at once perceived that the power of this thrust had risen by about a tenth over the last, and that this old cripple before him had, with a mere two sentences of instruction, brought Shen Mu such an enormous advance. Truly fearsome, truly worthy of respect! The village head barked, "The qi threads are not wound around the sword — they take root within it. The sword is part of your body, and your qi is part of your body; both are your flesh! Try again!" Shen Mu's qi merged with the keen sword, soaking into it, and all at once he felt as though he had grown another hand. At this thrust, he felt his strength like a great flood finding its outlet: seven or eight parts of his power gathered in the keen blade and drove toward the village! Wind howled through the village, and suddenly the wooden stake the butcher so often stood upon split in two with a crack! Shen Mu was stunned. His sword had never touched that stake — it was the sword wind that had split it in two! The young patriarch sighed in admiration. This old cripple had, with a few scant words, made Shen Mu erupt with terrifying potential; his attainments in swordsmanship were indeed exceedingly high. "Still not enough." The village head said, "Your strength is not yet fully brought out. You have put your own strength into the sword — but what of your spirit fetus? Where is the power of your spirit fetus? Your spirit fetus must grip the sword as well. Thrust again!" Shen Mu steadied himself. Within the spirit treasury of his primal fetus, the spirit fetus moved in concert with his own body, fingers joined, thrusting forward! "Not good enough! Where is the Crimson Heart Art? The Crimson Heart Art does not merely require you to forge a cinnabar heart — it requires you to plant your cinnabar heart in the sword! Plant the sword for me!" "Still not enough — again! Planting the cinnabar heart in the sword: that is the very crux of the Crimson Heart Art!" "Your legs connect to the earth; they are the source of strength. Use the leg arts the Lame Elder taught you and borrow force from the earth!" "And your eyes? Where is the Heaven Eye the Blind Elder taught you? Let your sword grow eyes too!" "You learned the fist from Elder Huo, forged your sinews and flesh like a dragon, and have even seen a true dragon — so why is there no dragon's vast grandeur in your sword, none of the withering sweep of Elder Huo's fist?" ... Shen Mu thrust again and again, and the village head's demands rose higher and higher: first merely to summon his own strength, then to summon the power of his qi, the power of his spirit fetus, and then to fuse Elder Huo's fist and the Lame Elder's legs into his swordsmanship — each harder than the last. In but a short while he had thrust he knew not how many times, yet the village head remained dissatisfied and bade him keep practicing. Granny Zhu, the Lame Elder, and the others watched Shen Mu at his sword practice, each wearing a look of astonishment. They saw Shen Mu ride his flying sword with qi, and at a single thrust came a short, urgent shriek; then a gale rose and blew to either side, so that even the banners of the smithy, the herb plot, and the butcher's shop snapped and streamed backward! And with every thrust, a sword scar appeared on the ground — the work of the sword wind grazing the earth! Granny Zhu found it almost unbelievable. She murmured, "In so short a time, the village head has trained Shen'er into a master of the sword. That is really too..." The village head shook his head. "I have not taught him any swordsmanship. I have only helped him consolidate his strength, to bring together what you have all taught him. For now he has only just begun to understand the single motion of the thrust; he is still a fair distance from truly mastering it. And the most basic motions of the sword also include the chop, the upward flick, the hang, the cloud, the point, the burst, the cut, and the shear. Only when he has mastered these basic motions will he have entered the gate and be fit to learn swordsmanship. Shen'er — thrust once more at the Butcher's Knife!" Scarcely had he spoken when Shen Mu tossed up the Butcher's Knife, rode his flying sword with qi, and thrust like lightning! Clang — The keen sword met the Butcher's Knife and pierced clean through the precious blade forged of dark-iron cold-crystal, the tip emerging from the spine of the knife. Both the Butcher's Knife and the keen sword fell to the ground. Shen Mu was stunned; he stepped forward to examine them, never having imagined he could make such progress in so brief a span. The most basic motion of swordsmanship — the thrust — could hold such tremendous power! "Hold!" The young patriarch opposite raised his hand in haste. A wooden stick drifted over from the woods; the young patriarch extended a finger and pared at it, and in the blink of an eye had whittled it into a wooden sword three feet long, which he handed to Shen Mu. "Go meet him with this sword. Do not use a real blade." Shen Mu shook his head. "I have not learned any swordsmanship. The village head taught me only one motion." Shen Mu said, troubled, "The patriarch of your Nether Demon Cult said I sho