181: Chapter 181 Wang Lin's Test (Part 6)

No one could answer.

Wang Lin watched as Luo Qinghe's aura continued to climb, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.

So that's how it is.

Luo Qinghe was not LV5; he had been suppressing his own strength, remaining in the Sacred Court Knight team with the status of LV5.

As for why? Wang Lin did not know, and he did not want to know.

Luo Qinghe raised his head, looking at Wang Lin, his gaze changing.

From the previous scrutiny, it turned into seriousness...

Luo Qinghe raised his sword.

The tip of the sword pointed at Wang Lin's throat; there was no luster on the blade, no aura, quiet as if it were an ordinary iron sword.

But Wang Lin felt that the sword was locking onto him.

It was not locked on with eyes, nor with aura, but with fate.

This sword had decided to pierce him; no matter where he dodged, no matter how many Tentacles he used to block, no matter what Superpower he used to defend, the sword would pierce him.

This was his sword intent, an inescapable sword intent.

All twenty-two of Wang Lin's Tentacles retracted, forming layers of defense in front of him.

One layer, two layers, three layers... twenty-two layers, each layer being the pinnacle of a blade technique.

Luo Qinghe thrust out this sword.

The tip of the sword touched the first layer of Tentacles and broke through.

The second layer, broken through. The third, fourth, fifth...

Layer after layer of Tentacles were pierced through like paper before the sword tip.

It was not that Luo Qinghe's sword was stronger than Wang Lin's Tentacles, but that his sword intent was too pure—pure to the point where any defense was futile before it.

The twelfth layer, thirteenth, fourteenth...

The sword tip was drawing closer; Wang Lin could feel it.

His spatial perception clearly told him that the sword tip was twenty centimeters, fifteen centimeters, ten centimeters, five centimeters away from his throat...

Wang Lin stretched out his right hand—not a Tentacle, but his hand—which was glowing with a faint metallic luster.

Wang Lin's right hand reached out from the forest of Tentacles, and when the sword tip was only three centimeters from his throat, he pinched the blade with two fingers.

The sword stopped.

The entire Martial Arts Arena went still.

Luo Qinghe's sword stopped three centimeters in front of Wang Lin's throat, held by two fingers, motionless.

He tried to pull the sword back, but couldn't.

He tried to rotate the blade, but it wouldn't turn.

He tried to infuse the blade with his blood energy, but the blood energy stopped at the middle of the blade... blocked by Wang Lin's two fingers.

Wang Lin looked at him: "What is the name of this sword strike?"

Luo Qinghe was silent for a moment: "It has no name."

Wang Lin nodded and released his fingers.

Luo Qinghe withdrew his sword and stepped back, his breathing becoming a bit rapid, fine beads of sweat seeping out on his forehead.

"You just said you only used twenty percent of your strength. What about now?"

Wang Lin thought for a moment: "Still forty percent."

Luo Qinghe nodded, then sheathed his sword: "I lost."

The voice was not loud, but the entire Martial Arts Arena heard it.

Han Tieshan's complexion turned from livid to ashen.

Shen Qingfeng's lips were trembling; his "Lightning Sword" was like a joke in front of Luo Qinghe,

and Luo Qinghe was like a joke in front of Wang Lin.

Then what was he, Shen Qingfeng, in front of Wang Lin?

Wen Yanghao closed his eyes, not wanting to watch any longer.

After a silence, Song Zhengchu walked up.

His pace was slow, but every step felt like it was stepping on everyone's heart.

His deep cyan robe remained motionless under the lights, and the black longsword at his waist swayed gently with his steps.

He stood in front of Wang Lin, less than two meters away.

"Although you have defeated my four attendants, you are still not qualified to become an Inspector."

"The position of Inspector cannot be obtained just by defeating a few knights. You need to complete the assessment I give you."

"And your assessment is to go deep into the Mist Forest..."

"Cut the crap..." Wang Lin interrupted him, "There's no need for such trouble. If I just defeat you, won't that be enough?"

As soon as these words were spoken, everyone was shocked, finding it hard to believe.

Defeat Song Zhengchu?

A swordsman of the Holy Court, a special envoy of the Council of Elders.

An LV4 Esper saying he wanted to defeat a swordsman.

Someone on the Council of Elders side stood up, then sat back down.

The instructors were all like they had been hit by a freezing spell, motionless.

Lu Zhiyi was also stunned into silence by Wang Lin's boldness.

Even Bishop Qin Cang looked incredulous.

One had to know that swordsmen were known for their killing power.

Among opponents of the same rank, a swordsman's attack power was the highest; this was the consensus of the entire Holy City.

The sword techniques of an Ancient Martial Artist were inherently sharp, and a swordsman was the pinnacle among Ancient Martial Artists.

They abandoned all other combat methods and bet everything on a single sword.

The sword was their life; the sword was their path.

Among the knights of the Holy Court, those who could call themselves "swordsmen" were very few.

Not everyone who used a sword was worthy of being called a swordsman; a true swordsman needed to have an understanding of the sword that surpassed ordinary people, a nearly paranoid pursuit of sword intent, and a lifelong loyalty to the sword path. Song Zhengchu was one of them.

An LV7 swordsman had attack power comparable to an LV8 Esper. This was common knowledge.

An LV4 Esper saying he wanted to pass the assessment by defeating him.

It wasn't arrogance; it was absurd.

Then Song Zhengchu smiled: "Are you sure you want to defeat me? Using the strength you used to beat those four just now?"

Wang Lin looked at him: "I said just now, I only used forty percent of my strength."

Song Zhengchu's brows furrowed slightly.

This was not the first time he had heard Wang Lin say this.

Wang Lin had said it to Luo Qinghe just now, and now he had said it to him again.

He had thought Wang Lin was bluffing to intimidate his opponent. Could it be that this kid really only used forty percent of his strength?

But the expression on Wang Lin's face when he spoke didn't look like he was bragging. And his tone was too calm, his gaze too composed.

It seemed this kid still had trump cards.

Song Zhengchu's brows furrowed even tighter; he fell silent. One second, two seconds, three seconds...

Everyone watched the silent Song Zhengchu, thinking and judging.

This meant that what Wang Lin said might be true.

Song Zhengchu was silent for a long time, then he spoke: "I accept your assessment. But how do you intend to defeat me?"

Wang Lin said seriously: "I don't know. Let's fight and see."

Song Zhengchu only said one word: "Good."

Simple, direct, without any superfluous meaning.

Wang Lin charged forward first.

His figure left an afterimage on the Martial Arts Arena; the people on the spectator stand only saw a blurred line.

Twenty-two Tentacles unfolded behind him, each one executing a different blade technique—twenty-two blade techniques pouring down towards Song Zhengchu simultaneously.

Song Zhengchu stood there without retreating.

His left hand was behind his back, his right hand gripping that black sword.

The blade drew one arc after another in the air, neither fast nor slow, neither heavy nor light, each arc perfectly blocking the attack of a Tentacle.