Chen Chuan raised his hand and unbuttoned his overcoat one button at a time. The esoteric ritual on his skin had just boosted his strength, but in truth it had other effects, yet things that influenced the mind clearly had little effect on Mashiba Masaru.
Since they were useless, there was no need for it. So once all the buttons were undone, he gave the overcoat a casual toss, letting it drift away on the gusting wind.
Seeing that Mashiba Masaru was still unwilling to make the first move, Chen Chuan did not stand on ceremony. Ignoring the gunfire and sounds of combat breaking out again behind him, he rested the hilt of his saber beside his waist, leaned slightly forward, shifted his center of gravity ahead, and pushed off the ground, bounding forward.
Mid-leap, the rising white mist around him dragged a slipstream in his wake, radiating a terrifyingly potent momentum.
Mashiba Masaru's expression remained grave. He did not look down on his opponent just because his own strength had increased; in fact, the pressure Chen Chuan exerted on him was as palpable as ever.
Only this time, he did not remain rooted to the spot. Instead, he angled to the side, parrying and blocking with the aid of his footwork.
When lacking strength, he had had no choice but to disrupt his opponent's strikes in advance, relying entirely on the execution of technique. Now that he possessed sufficient power, he could parry in a more conventional manner. Furthermore, after the reverse infusion of vital essence, his height was now almost on par with Chen Chuan's, allowing him greater composure.
As their blades slashed and parried, after a few exchanges Chen Chuan could clearly sense that the other man had undergone an all-around physical enhancement. Even though Chen Chuan had not diminished his strength in the slightest, Mashiba could now parry steadily with just one hand—a feat made possible not only by power, but also by superior technique.
Unlike Iron Demon, the sudden surge in power had not left him unable to coordinate his body. On the contrary, every aspect worked in harmony. He truly had no shortcomings now.
After exchanging more than a dozen consecutive slashes, Mashiba Masaru grew increasingly confident. He carefully savored the power within this body—something he had never possessed before, or rather, an ability that belonged to his future self. Guided by higher mental techniques, there was nothing he could not master.
*This is what I will achieve in the future.*
After intercepting Chen Chuan's blade once again, the distance between them closed so tightly that neither could fully unfold their strikes. With a shudder running through their blades, both men recoiled backward once more.
Mashiba Masaru felt his spirit and body aligning ever more closely. Although this state could not last for long, he was certain that so long as he won this fight, even if he reverted to his former state afterward, the experience would allow him to progress rapidly and attain heights previously out of reach.
In truth, the vital essence within the blade could not be absorbed lightly, for overly domineering power would trigger resistance from one's mutated tissue. Only when facing a true adversary, when the mutated tissue felt an urgent crisis of life and death, could this barrier be utterly overridden.
Not since he was fourteen had any opponent given him this sensation. Only Chen Chuan had brought him to the brink of death, which was why he had been able to perfectly assimilate this vital essence.
Looking at Chen Chuan, he spoke with utmost earnestness: "Chen-kun, thank you." Once he won this battle and slew his foe, he would surely grant his opponent the honor due to a fighter.
Chen Chuan replied in a natural tone, "No need to thank me. If anything, I should be thanking you."
Mashiba Masaru froze for a second. An unsettling premonition crept into his heart, though he could not put his finger on what was wrong.
Without realizing it, the white mist rising from Chen Chuan had grown even denser. As it billowed upward, it formed a broad column of smoke, holding firm and unbroken amidst the fierce wind, with his silhouette fading in and out of view within it.
Since departing Center City, Chen Chuan had merely been taking his medicines and cultivating step by step. His power had been accumulating all along, yet it had not truly united with his self, because he had yet to trade blows with a fighter who truly counted as a powerhouse.
To be precise, no opponent had been able to force him to unleash his full might.
At the academy, he had Hongfu to spar with every day, but in Yangzhi, he naturally had no such luxury. Now that such an opponent had appeared, the power dormant within his mutated tissue was gradually awakening, beginning to truly adapt and fuse with him.
He slowly raised the long saber in his hand, pointing it toward Mashiba Masaru.
The other man's pure defense without offense reminded Chen Chuan of a bow being drawn wider and wider; so long as the bowstring did not snap, once pulled to its limit, it was bound to unleash a devastating shot.
*Then let us see who reaches their limit first.*
Mashiba Masaru's eyes narrowed. He noticed that Chen Chuan's field was expanding outward without the slightest restraint, his aura climbing higher and higher, yet not a single flaw could be seen.
Yet what of it? The Chen Chuan he had seen before was merely an illusory Chen Chuan—an unreal phantom before his eyes. Through the continuous clashes just now, he had already begun constructing the real Chen Chuan. He firmly believed that when the right moment arrived, a single strike would suffice to cut down this adversary.
Through his mental senses, Chen Chuan moved once more. With a thunderous shout, Mashiba charged forward to meet him. This time, their battle was no longer confined to that single stretch; in their rapid, crisscrossing clashes, they gradually moved off the National Boulevard. Every clash between them produced a boom like thunder, each blow detonating a ring of concussive air.
Vehicles close to one side rocked violently, their already cracked window glass continuously shattering from the shockwaves.
In Mashiba Masaru's eyes, with every full-force parry and strike, that Chen Chuan envisioned as an illusion was drawing closer to overlapping with the real Chen Chuan before him, yet a tiny margin remained.
And his Overlapping Emptiness jin was nearly charged to the point of counterattack.
After deflecting dozens more slashes, a surge of power suddenly welled up within his body. It felt as though it had appeared out of thin air, but it was in fact the rebound of his mutated tissue after being compressed to its absolute limit.
At this very moment, the phantom deep in his mind merged entirely with the Chen Chuan before him. Knowing the moment had arrived, his spirit surged to its zenith, and he unleashed the first strike of this battle—and his only strike!
Chen Chuan had been watching the changes within him all along. Sensing that the other man's biological field seemed to vanish completely in an instant, his eyes flashed. His Second Self suddenly merged with him, and watching the incoming slash, he swung his own blade upward to meet it!
The two blades intersected in midair. With a resounding clash, the blade in Mashiba Masaru's hand snapped in two. Yet his gaze did not waver; the remaining blade continued along its intended trajectory toward Chen Chuan.
This blow was not solely about the blade itself, but about the spirit fused into it!
To sever the intent was to sever the form!
So long as this strike annihilated Chen Chuan's spirit, the physical body would naturally collapse as well. This slash required not only his own spirit to climb to its pinnacle, but also his opponent's spirit to reach its apex. Only by shattering the strongest point could everything be utterly severed.
When the strike's momentum reached its fullest extension, although the broken blade did not touch Chen Chuan's body, that domineering blade intent surged directly into Chen Chuan's field and spirit.
In that instant, a dashed line appeared on the forehead of the Second Self, extending diagonally down to its chest and abdomen, and the entire form flickered into translucence for a moment.
Meanwhile, after snapping Mashiba's long saber, Chen Chuan's Xuejun Saber made a subtle adjustment to dissipate the jin transmitting through it. Then, driving with both arms at once, he thrust the entire blade forward.
Both men froze simultaneously. The dust beneath their feet shuddered and rolled outward in billows.
The severed upper half of the blade spun a dozen times through the sky before plummeting down, piercing into the wilderness ground with a sharp hiss.
Maintaining his slashing posture, Mashiba Masaru looked at Chen Chuan's tranquil eyes. He slowly lowered his head and saw the Xuejun Saber plunged through his heart, half of its length protruding from his back.
Crimson blood spilled from the corners of his mouth. Blood also began seeping through his skin, staining outward across his white robes.
That final blow had exhausted every shred of his spirit. Failing to slay his foe meant his vital energy naturally dispersed; at this moment, nothing remained of him but an empty shell.
He murmured softly, "Forgive me, Master... Your disciple's path ends here." With a tinge of regret, he slowly closed his eyes, then fell utterly still.
Seeing this, Chen Chuan drew back his saber. Mashiba Masaru's body pitched forward with the motion, slumping onto the ground. Soon, the spreading blood stained a patch of earth crimson.
Chen Chuan raised his hand to look at the Xuejun Saber, which transmitted an exhilarated impulse, and then glanced at Mashiba Masaru's corpse. In just this short span, his frame had gradually withered back to its original size.
He pondered for a moment. That strike had indeed been formidable. Setting aside the jin behind the blade, it could be considered an attack that obliterated the spirit.
However, the other man did not seem to have mastered it completely; after the blade broke, the attack lost at least half its power. Judging from the wound sustained by the Second Self, Chen Chuan's accumulated changeless mind likely could have withstood it even head-on.
He looked up ahead. Advisor Yao was battling two enemies single-handedly. Judging by his current state, Yao had taken quite a few wounds and looked somewhat battered, but overall he was still holding the line.
Yao was wearing an Esoteric Cult Bureau overcoat, and the rituals laid out on the field were sufficient to cause sensory disorientation in intruders. Although the two opponents could resist it to some degree, they could not avoid being slightly affected.
And sometimes, the slightest lapse could cost an opening, allowing Yao to narrowly evade fatal strikes time and again.
Yet as Chen Chuan turned his gaze over, all three fighters sensed it and glanced his way. Advisor Yao's face lit up with pleasant surprise, while the other two fighters' pupils contracted. Having no desire to linger in combat any longer, they forced Advisor Yao back with a flurry of strikes, rapidly disengaged, and fled in different directions.
One of them even whipped his hand around and hurled a throwing knife toward Chen Chuan from a li away.
Chen Chuan raised his saber and deflected it casually. Without another glance at that man, he turned toward the other fleeing figure, pushed off the ground, and gave chase.
Seeing that Chen Chuan was not pursuing him, the knife-throwing fighter rejoiced inwardly and sprinted into the distance. But after taking only a few steps, he suddenly clutched his stomach, stumbled forward, and fell uncontrollably to one knee, vomiting mouthful after mouthful of blood.
Chapter 466