20: Chapter 20 Sword Control Technique

Jiang Yan sat cross-legged in the cave, his Flying Sword resting horizontally across his knees.

The Flying Sword was finished; the next step was to choose a Sword Control Technique.

Sword Control Technique is different from a Spell.

Spells involve converting Qi into a certain energy form and releasing it—Fireballs, Ice Spikes, Wind Blades are all products of converted Qi.

Sword Control Technique, however, uses Divine Sense and Qi to control a physical Flying Sword; the Flying Sword itself is a carrier of Qi, not a converted product.

Therefore, the power of a Sword Control Technique depends on three factors: the quality of the Flying Sword, the strength of one's Divine Sense, and the grade of the sword technique.

The Medium Grade Flying Sword is sufficient for now.

As for Divine Sense, at Qi Refining Stage 1, one can only cover a radius of one zhang around the body; for sword control, one can control it within a range of ten zhang at most, any further and it would be out of reach.

In his past life, he had cultivated the "Taixu Nourishing Spirit Art," a fourth-grade Divine Sense Cultivation Technique, and he had been practicing it for the past few months, but Divine Sense is inherently slow to grow.

Thus, the grade of the sword technique is very important.

Jiang Yan closed his eyes, and two complete Sword Control Technique manuals appeared in his mind.

Both were fourth-grade and could be cultivated up to the Nascent Soul Stage.

The first one, "Flying Star Sword Scripture."

Its characteristic is speed. The Flying Sword acts like a meteor, piercing in a straight line, arriving in an instant.

It has nine levels in total; the first level, "Meteor Style," allows the Flying Sword's speed to increase by fifty percent, with a straight-line attack trajectory, suitable for long-range sniping.

Following that are the Star Chasing Style, Shattering Star Style, and Star River Style; each level has new sword style variations.

Its advantage is that it is easy to pick up. The circulation path of the Meteor Style is simple, and the Qi consumption is not high; with his experience, he could master it in at most three days.

Its disadvantage is the lack of variation—it is truly fast, but the trajectory is too straight, making it easy for speed-type opponents to predict.

The second one, "Wind-Thunder Sword Scripture."

Its characteristic is change. Wind and thunder are mutually generated, making it hard to distinguish the real from the illusory.

It also has nine levels; the first level, "Wind Rising Style," allows the Flying Sword's attack trajectory to become erratic, as elusive as the wind.

The second level, "Thunder Movement Style," can add thunder-attribute damage to the sword, which has a restraining effect on evil spirits and demonic creatures.

The third level, "Wind-Thunder Transformation," fuses the two, doubling the power.

Its advantage is the variety of changes, making it harder to defend against in actual combat, and the restraining effect of the thunder attribute can be very useful in certain situations.

Its disadvantage is that it is difficult to master—the Qi of both wind and thunder attributes must be controlled simultaneously, which requires a higher level of Divine Sense than the Flying Star Sword Scripture. The consumption is also higher.

Jiang Yan placed the Flying Sword flat in front of his knees, closed his eyes, and simulated the circulation paths of both sword techniques in his mind simultaneously.

The Meteor Style of the Flying Star Sword Scripture. Qi starts from the Dantian, flows along the Hand Shaoyang Sanjiao Meridian into the Flying Sword, forming an acceleration Formation inside the sword body.

Divine Sense attaches to the sword, locks onto the target, and shoots it out. The whole process is clean and efficient, like drawing a bow and releasing an arrow, with no wasted movements.

The Wind Rising Style of the Wind-Thunder Sword Scripture. Qi is divided into two strands, one flowing through the Hand Shaoyang Sanjiao Meridian, and one through the Foot Jueyin Liver Meridian.

The two strands of Qi intersect inside the Flying Sword, forming a micro-whirlwind, making the Flying Sword's trajectory erratic.

Divine Sense must not only lock onto the target but also adjust the flight direction in real-time.

Jiang Yan opened his eyes.

He decided to practice both, but for now, he would focus mainly on the Wind-Thunder Sword Scripture, and choose which one to specialize in later depending on the situation.

The reason for choosing the Wind-Thunder Sword Scripture is simple—with the Flying Sword in hand, the attack power is sufficient. What is lacking is the hit rate.

He had witnessed the reaction speed of an Innate Martial Artist; Murong Yan could use a long spear to shatter his small Qi sword. Although a Flying Sword is harder to block, if the trajectory is too straight, it might not hit.

The erratic trajectory of the Wind Rising Style can make up for this shortcoming.

As for the high Qi consumption—his fighting style was never about endurance.

Three hundred years of combat experience had taught him one thing: in a true life-and-death battle, the outcome is often decided within a few moves.

Either you die, or I live; the longer it drags on, the more variables there are.

After making his decision, Jiang Yan immediately began to Cultivate.

The first day.

He divided his Qi into two strands. The left strand flowed through the Hand Shaoyang Sanjiao Meridian, and the right strand through the Foot Jueyin Liver Meridian.

The two strands of Qi parted ways in the Dantian, traveled up along their respective Meridians, converged at the shoulders, and then poured into the Flying Sword together.

He failed.

The force of the left strand was too strong, and the right was too weak; the two strands of Qi collided inside the Flying Sword, like two water currents clashing, stirring up a turbulent mess.

The Flying Sword bounced on his knees and clattered to the ground.

Jiang Yan picked it up, adjusted the ratio of the two strands of Qi, and started again.

He failed again.

This time the right strand was too strong; when the Flying Sword shot out, it veered off course and nailed into the cave wall on the left, missing his aimed position by at least three chi.

The third time. The fourth time. The fifth time.

He adjusted with every failure. It wasn't a blind adjustment—he was using his Divine Sense to observe the state of the two strands of Qi as they intersected.

The wind-attribute Qi of the left strand was pale cyan, appearing like a flowing mist in his Divine Sense perception; the thunder-attribute Qi of the right strand was pale purple, like tiny electric arcs jumping.

When they intersected, the pale cyan and pale purple would first repel each other, then slowly fuse, turning into a grey-blue color after Fusion.

The better they fused, the more erratic the Flying Sword's trajectory would be without losing control.

If they didn't fuse well, the trajectory would either be too straight, or so erratic that he couldn't even lock onto the target.

On the first day, he failed over a dozen times. By nightfall, the Flying Sword could finally make a small turn in the air—although the turn was stiff, as if it had been bumped by something, it at least proved that this path was viable.

The second day.

Jiang Yan continued to practice. The light outside the cave changed from grey-white to bright, and then from bright to dusk-yellow.

He didn't know how many times he had practiced; he only remembered the Flying Sword shooting from his palm, drawing an arc in the air, nailing into the rock wall, pulling it out, and shooting it out again.

By noon, the trajectory of the Flying Sword began to become smooth.

It was no longer a stiff turn, but a smooth arc—although the curve wasn't large, the entire trajectory from launch to hit was continuous, without any break points.

In the afternoon, the arc turned into a wavy shape. The Flying Sword swayed left and right in the air, like a snake swimming in water.

The amplitude of the sway wasn't large, but it was enough to make it impossible for an opponent to accurately predict the landing point.

By evening, he tried to let the Flying Sword change direction twice before hitting the target.

The first time it succeeded; the second time the Flying Sword went completely out of control, slammed into the cave wall and bounced back, nearly grazing his arm.

Jiang Yan caught the Flying Sword and lowered his head to look at the blade.

There was a shallow white mark on the dark gold blade, left by the impact with the stone.

He rubbed it with his thumb, and the white mark disappeared.

He placed the sword back on his knees and closed his eyes to regulate his breathing.

The soreness in his Meridians had turned into a stinging pain, as if countless fine needles were pricking him.

The Qi in his Dantian was also running low; the pale red nebula had become thin, and the color had faded from deep red to light pink.

That was enough for tonight.

The third day.

The morning sunlight leaked through the gaps in the pine branches at the cave entrance, casting long, thin pillars of light on the ground.

Dust was drifting in the light beams, slow and leisurely, moving up and down.

Jiang Yan opened his eyes. His Qi had recovered, and the stinging pain in his Meridians had vanished, leaving only a faint numbness, like the feeling the day after intense exercise.

He picked up the Flying Sword, took a deep breath, and then exhaled.

He divided his Qi into two strands. Left strand wind, right strand thunder.

The two strands of Qi traveled up along the Meridians, intersected at his shoulders, and poured into the Flying Sword together.

The Flying Sword shot out from his palm.

It did not travel in a straight line.

The blade drew a distorted trajectory in the air—not an arc, not a wave, but an erratic, elusive path.

Like a falling leaf in the wind, swaying left and right, fast and slow.

But the tip of the sword always pointed in the same direction, just as a falling leaf, no matter how it drifts, will eventually land on the ground.

The Flying Sword nailed into the rock wall ten zhang away.

It penetrated three chi into the stone.

The blade hummed, and the vibration traveled from the hilt to the tip, emitting a faint buzzing sound inside the stone, like the sound of bee wings flapping muffled inside a jar.

Jiang Yan looked at the sword hole and hooked his finger.

The Flying Sword withdrew from the stone, turned around in the air, flew back to him, and hovered above his palm.

There was some stone powder on the blade, grey-white, which was particularly conspicuous on the dark gold surface. He wiped it with his sleeve, and the stone powder fell off in a flurry.

The Wind Rising Style was complete.

He didn't stop; he continued to practice.

Mastery is one thing, proficiency is another. His current level could only be described as being able to use it.

But there was still a gap before actual combat—the allocation of Qi was not precise enough, the trajectory changes were not rich enough, and he occasionally lost control during consecutive direction changes.

By noon, he made the Flying Sword change direction three times before hitting the target.

The first time it veered left, the second time it pulled to the upper right, and the third time it turned sharply downward.

The three direction changes were completed in one go, and the Flying Sword finally inserted obliquely from above, nailing into the ground.

By evening, he had increased the number of direction changes to five.

After five direction changes, the speed of the Flying Sword had slowed down significantly—every direction change consumed kinetic energy, and after five times, the momentum of the sword was clearly exhausted.

This was an inherent flaw of the Wind Rising Style: the more changes, the slower the speed, and the weaker the power.

In actual combat, one cannot be greedy. Three direction changes were enough; enough is enough.

Jiang Yan retracted the Flying Sword and placed it on his knees.

As his fingers brushed over the spine of the sword, he could feel that the mental connection between the sword and his fingers was much clearer than it had been three days ago.

It wasn't that it had become stronger, but that it had become "familiar"—like the feeling of new shoes starting to fit after wearing them for a few days.

He glanced outside the cave. The light through the gaps in the pine branches had turned orange-red, and twilight was seeping in.

The light inside the cave dimmed, making the reddish-gold glow on the Flying Sword more obvious, like a small piece of burning charcoal on his knees.

In the following days, Jiang Yan continued to refine the remaining semi-finished gold essence while consolidating the Wind Rising Style.

The work of refining gold essence was incredibly boring—wrapping the gold bars in spiritual fire, burning, melting, removing impurities, cooling, and burning again.

Over and over again, like a donkey turning a millstone. The practice of the Wind Rising Style was also repetitive: shoot it out, pull it back, shoot it out, pull it back.

The sword holes on the cave wall became more and more numerous, densely packed like a honeycomb.

On the evening of the fifth day, he saw a squirrel on the old pine tree at the cave entrance.

It was grey-brown, with a fluffy tail, squatting on a branch gnawing on a pinecone.

It was gnawing very attentively, holding the pinecone with both front paws, its little head bobbing.

Jiang Yan looked at the squirrel, and his fingers moved.

The Flying Sword shot out silently.

The squirrel heard the movement—or perhaps it sensed it.

Its ears twitched, its head lifted, and its black-bean-like eyes glanced toward Jiang Yan's side.

Then it saw a dark gold light flying toward it.

The squirrel dropped the pinecone and turned to run.

The Flying Sword chased behind it. The squirrel jumped between the branches, as agile as a rabbit.

It hopped left and right on the branches, leaping from this pine branch to that one, its big fluffy tail swinging behind it.

The trajectory of the Flying Sword began to become erratic. It wasn't that it couldn't catch up—at the speed of the Flying Sword, catching this squirrel was easy.

Jiang Yan was practicing. He was treating the squirrel as a moving target, keeping the Flying Sword within half a chi behind it, neither catching up nor falling behind.

The squirrel hopped seven or eight times, finally jumped behind the tree trunk, scurried up to the treetop in one breath, and drilled into a tree hole, disappearing.

The Flying Sword hovered at the entrance of the tree hole for a breath, then turned around and flew back to Jiang Yan.

Jiang Yan retracted the Flying Sword, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward.