Spitting out the mouthful of blood made Jiang Fei feel much better.
If that blood hadn’t been expelled and had remained pent up inside, it would have been truly unbearable. Now that it was out, his whole body felt much more at ease. Yagyu Munenori’s opening iaido strike had truly been too powerful—the sword energy was so oppressive it felt suffocating. Even if the sword itself didn’t strike, the sheer pressure of its energy could inflict internal injuries!
Raising his left hand, Jiang Fei gently wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. In a flash, he returned to the center of the mountaintop, holding his wooden sword and looking at Yagyu Munenori from a few meters away.
Yagyu showed no smugness over gaining the upper hand and injuring Jiang Fei with that first strike. Instead, he looked at Jiang Fei with solemn eyes and said, “In just one month, your swordsmanship has improved greatly. You’ve actually reached the Wooden Sword realm.”
It was worth noting that during their last encounter in Jincheng, Jiang Fei had still been wielding a steel longsword against Yagyu, not a wooden one.
This time, Jiang Fei was using a wooden sword.
Had Jiang Fei’s strength not surged so dramatically, Yagyu reckoned Jiang Fei would most likely have been slain by that first strike…
“Yes,” Jiang Fei replied.
“You truly are a remarkable genius. In all my decades of life, you are the most extraordinary swordsmanship prodigy I have ever seen. Even I, in my youth, was far inferior to you,” Yagyu said.
Jiang Fei remained neither flattered nor alarmed. “Unfortunately, I lost this first round.”
“Yes. You lost,” Yagyu nodded. “So from here on, I will exert even more effort.”
Jiang Fei had lost the first round, yet Yagyu said he would try even harder. His words might sound contradictory, but they weren’t.
His earlier strike had undoubtedly been with full force, holding nothing back. Although it injured Jiang Fei, the result wasn’t as decisive as he’d hoped. That was why he now regarded Jiang Fei—after his growth in cultivation—as a truly formidable opponent, one he must strive even harder to defeat. That was the greatest respect he could show Jiang Fei.
Jiang Fei lightly swung his wooden sword, sending snowflakes swirling in the air. He exhaled deeply, thoroughly expelling the stifling depression from spitting blood earlier, and said coldly, “Do you have even more powerful techniques? If so, please, go ahead.”
As the number one swordsman in Japan, hailed as a modern sword master, Yagyu’s strength was indeed extraordinary. That opening iaido strike had already approached perfection. Even with Jiang Fei’s Dugu Nine Swords elevated to the second layer, he couldn’t find a flaw to exploit—he could only match it with an equally flawless technique, clashing head-on.
And in the end, Jiang Fei had still lost in that direct confrontation.
That level of lethality was already the result of Yagyu’s full effort. Jiang Fei didn’t believe he had held anything back earlier.
In the ensuing exchange, Yagyu’s attacks would inevitably not be as impeccable as that opening strike. Naturally, Jiang Fei wouldn’t suffer severe injuries again. Instead, he could find weaknesses in Yagyu’s swordsmanship during the fight!
Of course, if Yagyu truly still had hidden trump cards, then the situation would be unpredictable.
Yagyu’s eyes grew brighter and brighter. Snowflakes in the sky could no longer fall anywhere near the space around him.
He hadn’t expected Jiang Fei’s progress over the past month to be so immense—leaping an entire realm compared to their first encounter in Jincheng.
Back in Jincheng, Jiang Fei had displayed an all-around prowess with throwing daggers, bizarre lightness skills, and a longsword, astonishing Yagyu and prompting him to agree to a rematch a month later.
Now, Jiang Fei wielded only a wooden sword—no throwing daggers, no flashy lightness skills—yet Yagyu felt more cautious than ever.
As he had said, Jiang Fei’s prodigious talent surpassed his expectations, defying belief. He was the first such genius Yagyu had encountered in all his years. Even Yagyu himself, even Lion King, even countless other exceptional masters—none could have been as strong as Jiang Fei at his age!
With that thought, Yagyu couldn’t afford to be anything but cautious, and his mood couldn’t help but grow heavy.
He wasn’t as narrow-minded as Miyamoto Ichizen, who upon seeing a peerless genius emerge in China, thought only of killing that genius in the cradle, fearing Jiang Fei would one day grow to threaten Japan’s swordsmanship world.
Yagyu’s mindset was different: he would exert his full effort to show Jiang Fei respect, and then cut Jiang Fei down with his sword.
So, in the end, it didn’t really make a difference.
Yagyu and Miyamoto Ichizen had different motivations, but the outcome was the same.
Either way, they both wanted Jiang Fei to fall under their swords, using Jiang Fei’s blood and flesh to nourish their own sword paths.
Yagyu moved again.
Only this time, his movement wasn’t as explosive as before, not iaido. After all, iaido—the art of drawing and cutting in an instant—by its very nature unleashed its greatest power in the opening strike. Once the sword left its sheath, that unstoppable momentum was expended; it was impossible to recreate that unique force afterward.
So this time, Yagyu moved quite slowly, step by step, as if strolling leisurely in a garden—utterly unlike someone about to fight. His demeanor as he approached Jiang Fei held no hostility; it was more like walking toward an old friend of many years, simply going over to say hello.
Every movement lacked any intent to kill an enemy, filled instead with softness. His pace was so slow that even any ordinary person could clearly see Yagyu’s trajectory.
But being able to see his trajectory was one thing; being able to detect the true strangeness within it, to uncover its real power and devise a way to break it—that was another matter entirely.
In this regard, the clear distinction in realms among martial arts masters became immediately apparent.
Some of the Jianghu heroes who had descended from the Golden Summit of Mount Emei at the last moment to rush to this peak, upon seeing Yagyu’s footsteps and sword-swinging manner, were filled with puzzlement. They couldn’t discern the subtlety or lethality in it at all, thinking Yagyu had decided not to attack anymore.
But true top-tier experts like Bai Kedi, Little Wine Ghost, and Daoist Qingxu frowned deeply upon seeing Yagyu’s footsteps, their eyes filled with caution and wariness. They clearly recognized the true profundity within Yagyu’s technique.
Among them, Lion King—founder of the Qisha Group, who had once fought Yagyu to a draw—exclaimed in a low voice, “Shadow-Slash! Is this old devil really going to use that move?!”
Everyone was startled upon hearing Lion King’s exclamation, wondering what “Shadow-Slash” meant.
But in the next instant, they quickly understood.
They saw Yagyu, who had been moving very, very slowly—his steps seemingly unchanged, as if he had become an elderly man who could barely walk. But when they focused their eyes and looked closely, they realized that at some point, Yagyu’s body in its original position had long vanished!
No.
Not vanished.
What remained in the original spot was still Yagyu’s “body,” but it was merely an afterimage.
And then, as they realized this body had become an afterimage, they saw that along the entire path from Yagyu’s starting point to Jiang Fei, the space was now filled with Yagyu’s afterimages.
It was as if Yagyu had suddenly split into over a dozen figures—like Sun Wukong plucking hairs from his body and transforming them into multiple “clones.”
So this was Shadow-Slash.
For Jiang Fei, however, the real challenge wasn’t Yagyu’s seemingly slow but actually fast footwork. In his eyes, Yagyu’s clones weren’t just in front of him—the direction Yagyu was attacking from.
To Jiang Fei, Yagyu’s clones had already spread to all sides around his body—every corner, every direction was filled with Yagyu’s clones!
These clones sealed off any possible retreat for Jiang Fei, leaving him no room to withdraw. Moreover, each of these clones wasn’t merely an illusion—they could all launch genuine attacks.
In other words, Yagyu could, in an instant, reach any corner around Jiang Fei’s body and attack from any direction.
This move was also essentially flawless.
No matter which direction Jiang Fei thrust his sword, Yagyu could evade it and then, from behind Jiang Fei, launch a fatal strike while Jiang Fei was completely defenseless!
That was the true Shadow-Slash.
Holding his sword in one hand, facing the countless afterimages and sword energy, at the final moment—to everyone’s astonishment—Jiang Fei closed his eyes!
Yes, Jiang Fei closed his eyes, completely shutting them, no longer watching how dazzling, how brilliant, how flawless Yagyu’s sword technique appeared from the outside.
He seemed to have become a man waiting for death, offering his neck to the blade.
And Yagyu showed no mercy or hesitation because Jiang Fei closed his eyes, as if giving up or admitting defeat.
He had said that since Jiang Fei withstood his first strike, he would exert even more effort from here on—that was the greatest respect he could show Jiang Fei.
And so, his Shadow-Slash descended upon Jiang Fei with absolute decisiveness, carrying an unyielding, irrevocable intent.
Lion King’s eyes widened. At this point, even if he wanted to intervene, it was too late.
Everyone else closed their eyes, as if unable to bear witnessing Jiang Fei’s tragic fate in the next instant.
