The swordsmanship of the two swordsmen was exquisite, but their cultivation was not strong; Qin Sang defeated them with little effort. Unlike puppets, they had no vital cores or weak points of that nature; Qin Sang treated them entirely like living, breathing human beings.
Yet as soon as the two fell, two more swordsmen leapt from the walls, granting Qin Sang no time at all to catch his breath.
With his retreat cut off, Qin Sang understood that this trial demanded he press forward without hesitation.
In the long corridor, sword rays intertwined.
Qin Sang's breath grew heavy, yet his eyes shone ever brighter.
He had already fought over a dozen battles consecutively. Step by step, Qin Sang pressed deeper into the corridor, able only to advance and never retreat. The darkness at the end of his vision was slowly dispersing, yet he still could not see what lay at the end.
With each wave, the swordsmen grew stronger in a regular, measured progression—sometimes in swordsmanship, sometimes in cultivation realm. Meanwhile, he could only rely on his sword arts or his own divine abilities, as his magic treasures remained sealed.
Qin Sang already had a premonition that he would be defeated before reaching the end of the corridor.
He did not know what would await him when that happened.
He had racked his brains, but was completely helpless against the restrictions inside the corridor.
*Whoosh!*
Two more swordsmen leapt down, wielding sword arts distinct from any of the previous ones.
Each swordsman wielded only a single sword art, yet each art was remarkably exquisite. If a sword cultivator took a stroll down this Sword Path, barring any accident, their swordsmanship would surely advance by leaps and bounds.
These swordsmen were his opponents, but they also seemed like teachers.
Qin Sang could clearly feel himself gaining numerous insights throughout the combat. Unfortunately, with the weight of an uncertain fate pressing on his mind, he could not bring himself to feel the slightest joy.
"Fighting together, these two swordsmen are nearly a match for me!"
Sensing the might of their sword rays, Qin Sang's heart sank slightly. He knew he would not be able to go much further.
Even so, his movements were not affected in the slightest.
The ebony sword trembled faintly, producing a crisp hum, and transformed into a streak of lightning. Before the two swordsmen could combine their strikes, it erupted with ultimate speed, closing in on one of them in an instant.
Swordsmen like these could be considered flawless sword cultivators: feeling no fear and experiencing no emotional turmoil, they executed optimal responses when assaulted.
But against Sword Qi Thunderclap, this swordsman's speed was still a step too slow.
His sword stance had barely begun to take form when the ebony sword struck first despite being launched after, shattering it.
Before the swordsman, lotus-shaped sword qi was pierced through by a bolt of lightning. The ebony sword's momentum remained undiminished as it instantly ran the swordsman through the chest, veered slightly, and darted straight for the other.
Having suffered a strike to his vitals, the swordsman stiffened abruptly. His sword qi dissipated, and he withdrew his sword, standing upright. Bowing to Qin Sang, he dissolved into a cluster of azure light and silently faded away.
The other did not last much longer either.
Immediately afterward, two more swordsmen leapt down from the walls.
As soon as they clashed, Qin Sang's expression shifted. They seemed to have anticipated Sword Qi Thunderclap; before the ebony sword even struck, they converged and took up a defensive formation.
Their sword stance was peculiar: their spirit swords pointed together, forming a shell of circling sword qi as tight and impenetrable as a tortoise carapace.
"This Sword Path..."
Qin Sang sighed helplessly. No matter what sword art he used previously, the next enemies would counter it directly with a style designed to suppress it.
To his surprise, even Sword Qi Thunderclap was no exception.
This time, Qin Sang had grown wiser. Instead of hastily revealing sword light differentiation, he maintained Sword Qi Thunderclap, maneuvering carefully against them until he ground the two down to death.
No matter how powerful a single sword art was, it could not be entirely without flaws.
From then on, he settled his mind to duel with his opponents, patiently searching for a way to break through.
*Clack! Clack! Clack!*
Qin Sang's footsteps echoed through the corridor. He walked slowly, yet every step was immensely solid.
In this process, Qin Sang simply threw caution to the wind and put everything else out of mind. With only the sword in hand occupying his thoughts, he lost himself in the Dao of the sword. Unbeknownst to him, his swordsmanship was improving imperceptibly.
The sword arts he had learned in the past were fusing together, advancing toward a state of harmonious mastery.
Even Sword Qi Thunderclap began to incorporate more variations.
Such pure duels of the sword were an experience Qin Sang had never had before, yet the rewards were astonishing.
"Not good! They've grown stronger again!"
Qin Sang's pupils contracted sharply.
For the two newly emerged swordsmen could also use Sword Qi Thunderclap, and they knew his weaknesses intimately.
Having just defeated two opponents, Qin Sang had not even caught his breath before two flying swords charged like thunder and lightning, sweeping in from left and right and making defense extraordinarily difficult.
Forced into a corner, Qin Sang had no choice but to unleash sword light differentiation.
He was already deeply satisfied that he had held out for so long; had it been him before entering the corridor, he would have fallen to the earlier swordsmen long ago.
The ebony sword split into two, but the ray of sword light did not move to block the other flying sword; instead, it launched a surprise attack on one of the opponents.
The ploy indeed succeeded. Thrusting his palms forward, Qin Sang surged his true essence, using a Daoist art to block one sword, while the ebony sword entangled the other flying sword, and the surprise sword ray struck home, slaying one of the swordsmen.
"Apart from swordsmanship, anything that is one's own power can be brought to bear—physical body, spiritual sense, Daoist arts... However, the power of Daoist arts is closely tied to true essence, making it difficult to surpass the limits of one's cultivation realm. Spiritual sense and the physical body might be able to, but secret arts of that nature are exceedingly rare."
Qin Sang gained another insight, though unfortunately he had not deliberately cultivated his physical body or spiritual sense.
Having reached this point, the pressure on Qin Sang mounted dramatically, and the battles grew increasingly arduous.
When the swordsmen began unleashing sword light differentiation, his strength finally ran dry, and his run came to an end.
Unwilling to accept defeat, Qin Sang stared wide-eyed toward the depths of the corridor. The darkness there had grown thin, nearly revealing what lay within, yet failure was already upon him.
*Whew!*
A crescent of sword qi came whistling straight toward him.
Qin Sang hastily swung his sword to parry, only to feel a searing pain in his wrist as the immense force blasted him away, sending him crashing into the wall.
Instantly, the swordsman flashed before Qin Sang like a wraith. His offensive struck like a raging storm before he gripped his sword with both hands, pouring every ounce of might into a savage downward cleave!
Death descended!
Qin Sang's eyes nearly tore at the corners as an inhuman roar tore from his throat. Since beginning his cultivation journey, no matter what hardship he faced, he had never surrendered—and even in the face of certain death, he would not yield.
Pouring every shred of strength in his body, he swung his sword in defiance.
The next instant, a blinding sword ray swept across his eyes.
In that fraction of a second, Qin Sang truly believed he was dead.
After a moment of daze, Qin Sang felt no pain. Looking around, he discovered that at some unknown point, he had been teleported back to the entrance of the corridor.
The swordsmen were gone. The corridor was tranquil, as if everything had been nothing more than a dream.
Drenched in sweat, Qin Sang hurriedly summoned the ebony sword to inspect it. Seeing that it was undamaged, he breathed a sigh of relief, slumped limp onto the ground, and forced a smile onto his face.
After a brief respite to regulate his breath, Qin Sang stood up, his expression having regained its composure. He gazed deep into the corridor, recalling the insights he had just gained, and then walked back inside without hesitation.
At the very least, he had to see clearly what lay at the end of the corridor.
Furthermore, Qin Sang had a premonition that his realm in the Dao of the sword was about to make a monumental breakthrough.
Chapter 788