Chapter 93 — Deceiving Heaven, Swapping the Sun
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 3 of 4
Elder Huo warned, "His vital energy is abnormally deep and mighty — two or three times yours.
If your blade meets his, it will be knocked flying, and you will be sent flying with it.
You can only beat him with skill. "
"Then what the hell is the point of fighting?
"
The Butcher flew into a rage, planted both blades in the ground, rolled his eyes, and said with a smile, "Shen'er, sit down. Neither of us will use blades — we will use only listening to force, and touch hands. "
Shen Mu planted his slaughtering blade in the ground and sat facing him. The two used their hands as blades, palms meeting. Each closed his eyes, sensing the shifts of force in the other's palm to infer the movement of the muscles in the other's body, the circulation of vital energy, to grasp the distribution of the other's strength — then strike at his flaw, one blade, one kill.
This was the secret of Drawing the Blade from the Forbidden Palace.
Blade in hand, I walk out of the emperor's forbidden palace; chariots and horses boom like thunder.
Alone I go to the imperial court, my hand holding the sovereign's head. The meaning of the verse: I walk out of the emperor's forbidden palace with my blade in hand; outside, the sound of chariots and horses rumbles like thunder; countless men and horses bar my path — only because I went alone into the imperial palace and came out with the sovereign's head in my hand. The bearing of this one move, its spirit, no other technique could rival: wild, looking down on all things, disregarding all things.
Yet this move was also the most skill-demanding of all the Butcher's blade techniques; one's control of one's own strength must reach the utmost extreme, and one's grasp of the enemy's strength must likewise reach the utmost extreme — it was the summit of all martial arts and divine powers. The two palms touched, and at once the working of muscles, the circulation of vital energy, the distribution of strength, both his own and his opponent's — Shen Mu perceived in nearly an instant that the Butcher's vital energy was far inferior to his own.
Yet in the very moment he struck out with his hand-blade, the Butcher had already sensed the shift in his force, blocked ahead of time, and with his other hand chopped at the place where Shen Mu was flawed. After all, the Butcher was a notch above in skill; in both reaction and experience he far surpassed Shen Mu. But when he blocked that blade, he realized something was wrong — his whole body was sent flying backward, chopped clean out of the village by the force in Shen Mu's hand-blade, and he crashed into the mountain forest beyond.
Shen Mu looked down and saw that the clothes he had just changed into were already split open, cut by that blade of the Butcher's. He said to himself, That was close. His cultivation was too strong. Though his blade technique was still inferior to the Butcher's, he could crush the Butcher by sheer cultivation alone. "I lose!
"
The Butcher leaped up from beyond the village, landed back inside it, propped himself on both hands, and said with hearty good cheer, "I lose! Alchemist, Deaf Elder, there is no need for you to compete either — your cultivation is no match for his! "
The Deaf Elder sneered, "Who said I meant to compete with him in magic power and cultivation, in fierceness and ruthlessness? Shen'er, I have painted two dragons.
"
Whoosh —
With a flick of his hand he unrolled two scrolls and hung them on a pole. Two ink dragons seemed to come alive on the paper, so vivid they looked ready at any moment to leap into the sky.
Yet strangely, neither dragon had eyes. "All these years I have taught you the way of calligraphy and painting.
The way of brush and ink is not these stupid brawling methods — it is the plaything of clever men, and it demands insight.
"