Chapter Seventy-Two: I Am Myself, and Yet Not Myself—The Man in White

Ahead stood a towering mountain, its peak piercing the clouds, yet from its summit a blade's aura surged upward, cleaving the vast sky. The powerful sword intent reverberated through the heavens.

"This is the killing sword intent at the pinnacle realm," Jiang Ming muttered, his brows furrowed. "But why does it fill me with such a chilling, soul-shaking feeling?"

Suppressing his doubts, he looked toward the foot of the mountain, where a burly young man stood. His aura was astonishingly fierce, and when his fists met, thunderous echoes resounded.

Before Jiang Ming could advance, the youth charged toward him.

Boom—

His fist struck like thunder, wild and violent.

"Entry-level fist intent," Jiang Ming realized, and with a step, he rushed forward as well. This time, he did not draw his long sword; instead, he met his opponent with his fists.

With a single punch, Jiang Ming sent the young man flying, smashing a crater in the rock behind him.

"This opponent is impressive," Jiang Ming felt a surge of excitement.

In the world of Nine Yin Nine Yang, aside from the battle at Kao Shan City, he had rarely needed to exert his full strength. Of course, the final battle before leaving was an exception—the humanoid lightning was too formidable.

Now, with a worthy adversary before him, he was eager to test himself.

"This will serve as training," Jiang Ming thought as he engaged in fierce combat.

Dragon Suppressing Fist, Dragon Subduing Kick, Tablet Breaking Hand, Nine Yang Divine Fist—none were ultimate moves, all relying solely on physical strength, yet Jiang Ming still dominated completely.

Bang—

With the last punch, he killed his opponent.

Ascending the mountain, Jiang Ming soon encountered another challenger.

Some wielded swords, others knives, even a master with a whip appeared—they were all defeated.

After slaying nine adversaries, Jiang Ming reached the summit.

Atop the highest rock sat a man, the mountain wind howling as his long hair danced wildly, giving him an air of untamed arrogance.

Beside him was a long sword, from whose tip a sword intent shot skyward, splitting the heavens.

"Why is it you again?" Jiang Ming asked, puzzled.

This was the same white-clad youth as the final opponent of the third level, yet his aura was entirely different.

"I am myself, I am not myself, I am not who I was," the white-clad youth stood and drew his sword, his aura rising anew. Fine sword energies whirled around him, so fierce the wind could not approach.

"Wait!" Jiang Ming had not expected a reply and was overjoyed. He quickly spoke, "When I climbed the mountain, the seventh challenger wielded a fusion of intent, very strong; the eighth used only wind intent, but was even stronger; the ninth had heavy intent, overwhelming power, suppressing everything. When fusing the same true energy, I could not match their attacks. Now you wield only killing sword intent, yet it remains so powerful. Why?"

"Integrating intent into true energy, sword techniques, and so on is only the most superficial application; it centers on energy and technique," the white-clad youth replied coolly. "Intent belongs to the power of Dao rhyme, the force of heaven and earth, the power of rules. For superficial use, the more fused, the stronger the attack. But even a single intent is formidable—if you comprehend it deeply enough, you can wield the sword, the technique, the energy with intent, and unleash its true might."

"To use intent, to embody intent—these are two levels."

"In essence, there is no hierarchy among intents."

"Even ten fused intents can be broken by a single pure intent."

"From your successive breakthroughs, your comprehension is extraordinary—almost miraculous to ordinary people. But your accumulation is thin, your foundation weak."

"Youth, read more books!"

His tone remained indifferent, but it was clearly guidance—a profound guidance.

"To use intent is to fuse it into energy and technique. To embody intent is to make it the core, to command all, and thus create secret arts and unique skills."

Jiang Ming gained new understanding.

"Thank you!"

He was startled by the advice, for this was the Federation Martial Exam.

Conversation was rare, let alone guidance.

Moreover, the youth had witnessed his prior battles.

It was astonishing.

Above all, Jiang Ming was grateful, and clasped his fists in respect.

"No matter how great your comprehension, you need guidance, an outline, firsthand observation, direct experience, to fully utilize your talent. Simply put: gain insight, spar often, and read widely," the white-clad youth said, waving his sword. "Enough—attack!"

"Very well!"

Jiang Ming hesitated no longer. Sword in hand, killing sword intent erupted as he charged forward.

The two instantly clashed.

Sword intent raged, slicing the mountain.

Rocks tumbled, the peaks trembled.

High above, the wind could not reach; drifting clouds were torn apart.

Sword light whirled, enveloping them both.

Moments later, Jiang Ming was forced back.

Yet his eyes shone ever brighter, his spirits soared, his fighting will ignited.

"Master, again!"

Jiang Ming attacked once more.

He used only true energy comparable to his opponent's and wielded only killing sword intent—their power was nearly equal.

The duel was a pure contest of sword comprehension.

But Jiang Ming was still a step behind.

Outside.

In Second High School.

Whether on the field or in the classroom, students and teachers alike were cheering, unable to contain their excitement.

The appearance of Qin Zhiyan had already thrilled them.

But then Jiang Ming's points began skyrocketing, his rank soaring.

"Damn, he's still racking up points on the fourth level—what does that mean? It means he's crushing all opponents!"

"Unbelievable! He's at sixty-seven thousand—no, sixty-eight thousand now. It's so fast."

"He's beyond human. With such results, he must be at least a fourth realm martial artist, at the pinnacle of the fourth realm. Fourth realm? He’s comprehended intent, and reached a profound level—he’s defying heaven!"

"Not just heaven, he’s overturning the universe! Look at Qin Zhiyan, she’s been stuck on the third level for ages, probably won’t reach the fourth. Even so, she’s in the Federation’s top hundred. Compared to Jiang Ming, though..."

"Jiang Ming is already number one—city first, province first, Federation first. My God, is our Second High School about to become famous nationwide?"

"As alumni, we are honored!"

"As classmates, we are honored!"

The students buzzed with excitement, words failing to express their joy.

Meanwhile, in Pingyang City's plazas, restaurants, even bathhouses, cheers and uproar echoed nonstop.

"For Jiang Ming, for Pingyang, all drinks are free today!" declared the hotel.

"For number one, for our classmate Jiang Ming, ladies, let's dance!" cried the plaza.

"Ladies, a genius has emerged from our city. Soon Pingyang will be famous throughout the Federation, and our business will flourish. Today, all services are free. If anyone can bring Jiang Ming here once, she’ll become the manager," said the massage parlor.

In this age of martial prosperity, this era of reverence for the strong, the emergence of a prodigious student ignited everyone's passion.