Chapter 582: - Peerless!

“Those who understand me, perhaps it will be the Spring and Autumn Annals;
those who condemn me, perhaps it will be the Spring and Autumn Annals.”

Hearing that answer, Wu Mazi bent at the waist and bowed.

With complete sincerity, he said:

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Right and wrong, merit and blame, would be left for history to judge.

It was supreme confidence.

And at the same time, supreme freedom.

Wu Mazi straightened once more.

His aura began locking onto Prince of Jingnan.

Prince of Jingnan intended to enter the imperial city.

Wu Mazi was the imperial city’s Shadow.

If the Lingyin’s obstruction had merely been a ceremony that needed to be performed for appearances, then Wu Mazi was an important part of that ceremony.

Because his part was rather more difficult to complete.

The Jingnan cavalry began forming ranks.

They were already prepared to hunt down a great expert.

Strictly speaking, powerful cultivators were not uncommon in this world.

But only a handful could make an entire army treat them as a genuine battlefield threat.

Earlier, whether Cui Buddha-Hand, Chen Lotus, or Ma Lao’wu, each had counted as a local expert. Yet beneath a cavalry charge, though they could certainly inflict casualties, they themselves still could not escape destruction.

A true Third Grade Martial Artist, however, was another matter entirely.

The body of a Third Grade Martial Artist was simply too powerful.

His blood and qi had to be ground down first.

When the Sword Saint once fought Prince of Jingnan, he first used sword qi to wear away the prince’s blood and qi.

When Sha Tuo Queshi fought the Zhenbei cavalry outside the Marquis of Zhenbei Residence, his blood and qi had likewise been ground away by cavalry first. Only afterward had Li Yuanhu killed him.

That was almost an accepted law.

For every art beneath Heaven, when the Dao rises one foot, the devil rises ten.

If you build towering city walls, someone else will build ladders that climb to Heaven.

There was always a countermeasure.

Wu Mazi smiled faintly.

He shifted his aura away from Prince of Jingnan and turned instead toward the Jingnan cavalry already gathering momentum before him.

He did not expect Prince of Jingnan to fight him one-on-one.

The Lingyin’s requests earlier had indeed been rather fussy.

But fulfilling them had cost Prince of Jingnan almost nothing.

Wu Mazi, however, did not consider it shameful if cavalry were used to wear him down and kill him.

Put plainly, the other man’s army had already crossed into your country, reached your capital, and now stood at the gates of your imperial city.

The initiative naturally belonged to him.

That was the situation.

At a time like this, crying about fairness would only make you look pathetic.

Otherwise, what did all the blood and effort the enemy had spent taking cities, breaking fortresses, and winning field battles count for?

The Jingnan cavalry were ready.

Lieutenant Commanders moved to the front of their formations.

Warhorses pawed at the blue-brick paving beneath them.

Wu Mazi untied his apron.

There was nothing ornate beneath it.

A Shadow had no need for decorations.

Born beneath the shadows.

Raised beneath the shadows.

And in death, still dying beneath the shadows.

Wu Mazi was grateful.

His master had been grateful too.

Neither of them knew which predecessor among the Shadows had first come up with the idea of selling wontons in the imperial city lane.

At the very least, it had allowed them to breathe beneath the sunlight.

To stand in the fragrance of boiling wontons and feed a crowd of early-rising beasts in official robes, like feeding chickens.

Then, Prince of Jingnan stepped forward and severed the building momentum.

Wu Mazi looked surprised.

And delighted.

“Your Highness is willing to exchange a few moves with this humble one?”

Tian Wujing’s aura locked onto Wu Mazi.

The answer was already clear.

“Your Highness truly loves your soldiers like sons.”

The Jingnan cavalry did not begin howling to be sent forward.

Prince of Jingnan maintained terrifying discipline.

His will was iron law within the Jingnan Army.

More importantly, the soldiers of the Jingnan Army worshiped their prince like a god.

They believed with absolute certainty that their prince could not be defeated.

Tian Wujing shook his head.

“It is simply unnecessary.”

That too was absolute confidence.

Wu Mazi kindly reminded him:

“Your Highness knows there is still something inside those palace gates waiting for you?”

“This Prince knows.”

That was obvious enough.

“Your Highness should think carefully.”

Wu Mazi was warning him.

There was another major dish waiting inside the palace.

Did Prince of Jingnan truly want to spend himself here first?

Wu Mazi himself held no confidence in defeating Prince of Jingnan.

Prince of Jingnan had defeated the Sword Saint.

As a Martial Artist, Wu Mazi understood perfectly well what it meant for a Martial Artist’s body to defeat the Sword Saint of Jin.

And besides, thousands of Jingnan cavalry still stood here.

Prince of Jingnan already occupied an unbeatable position.

But if Wu Mazi could choose, he naturally wanted to fight Prince of Jingnan personally.

He did not indulge in fantasies of victory or killing him.

But if he could wound the prince, if he could force him to expend strength, then for Wu Mazi, for Ying Capital, and for Great Chu, that would already be a tremendously profitable trade.

Most importantly, a Shadow who had spent an entire lifetime hidden away could, at the very end, fight Prince of Jingnan openly and honorably.

That alone would make every bowl of wonton fragrance he had smelled through the first half of his life worthwhile.

“To hide one’s edge and wait for the right moment does not suit this Prince. A commander should grow fiercer the more he fights.”

Wu Mazi nodded.

“This humble one understands.”

So that was it.

Prince of Jingnan intended to use him as a whetstone.

To bring himself into full battle condition ahead of time.

There were indeed martial arts in the jianghu that grew fiercer the longer one fought.

Martial Artists were especially suited to such methods.

Blood and qi could certainly be exhausted.

But in that frenzied state of slaughter, the body and blood could also be driven toward an invisible extreme.

Wu Mazi opened his right hand.

Hum!

From the stove beneath the wonton stall, a broken black saber flew into his palm.

“This saber is called Wuyai. Long ago, the Marquis of Chu seized it after killing a Shanyue chieftain. I do not even know how many generations it has passed through our Shadow lineage. The blade holds heat once heated. Keeping it in the stove is just right.”

Tian Wujing raised Kunwu.

He said nothing.

Wu Mazi leveled the broken saber.

One foot struck the ground.

His entire body shot toward Tian Wujing like an arrow leaving the string.

When Martial Artists fought, there was rarely much ornament.

At least not at the beginning.

Wuyai chopped downward.

Kunwu blocked.

When the two blades collided, the surrounding blue bricks exploded upward.

Then

Wu Mazi began swinging Wuyai again and again.

One slash after another came down.

Tian Wujing met each one with Kunwu.

The saber force of both men was restricted within a small area, constantly colliding and dissolving.

The scene did not look particularly spectacular.

Yet often, this kind of “unspectacular” fight was the truly spectacular one.

By contrast, saber force and sword qi flying wildly in every direction might look far more impressive, but most of the time that merely meant neither fighter possessed the control to contain every shred of force.

Wu Mazi grew faster and faster.

Each strike descended upon the momentum accumulated by the strike before it, layer after layer stacking higher.

That pressure fell not only upon his opponent.

It pressed back upon Wu Mazi himself as well.

But that was the body of a Martial Artist.

He could bear it.

Tian Wujing’s return strokes, by comparison, never changed rhythm.

Steady.

Unhurried.

“Roar!”

Wu Mazi released a low growl.

All accumulated momentum gathered along the edge of Wuyai.

Then it erupted!

Tian Wujing stepped back once.

Kunwu swept sideways.

Bang!

Wu Mazi flew backward and landed.

His chest rose and fell.

The leg Tian Wujing had stepped back with sank deeply into the earth.

Slowly, he pulled it free and stood straight once more.

“Excellent! Satisfying!”

Wu Mazi laughed loudly.

Tian Wujing’s expression remained calm.

Cracks sounded from Wu Mazi’s bones.

After that first exchange, it was difficult to say who had truly gained the advantage.

Yet Wu Mazi already possessed one clear feeling.

He was the one losing out.

Not in terms of injury.

His assault had looked ferocious, but Tian Wujing had used the ground beneath him to guide much of that force away.

Everyone’s blood and qi differed.

But at their level, even the smaller amount would still look like an ocean to an ordinary martial practitioner.

Even so, if Wu Mazi had paid ten parts, then Tian Wujing had spent five.

Absolutely no more than six.

And with that, he had dissolved the entire attack.

The fight was satisfying.

But that very satisfaction carried an irritation beneath it.

It was like spending money lavishly and enjoying the pleasure of extravagance, only to look over and discover a man with roughly the same family fortune carefully budgeting every coin.

You could already see the ending.

By the time you had nothing left but bare walls and were walking out the door with a cracked begging bowl, the other man might no longer be eating delicacies every day, but at least every meal would still contain meat.

He was calculating.

It was a pity Count Pingye was not here.

Which meant the Sword Saint, who remained constantly beside Count Pingye to protect him, naturally could not be here either.

Otherwise, if the Sword Saint witnessed this scene, he would certainly burst into delighted laughter.

A peak Third Grade Martial Artist was qualified to enter their circle.

So he was qualified to be laughed at.

Because this was exactly how the Sword Saint had once lost to Tian Wujing.

When great experts fought, surely what one expected was overwhelming heroic spirit.

A Martial Artist’s body sweeping across the eight wastes.

Sword qi filling Heaven with a single stroke.

Occult arts making Heaven and Earth change color.

That was the bearing of the mighty.

But when Tian Wujing fought, he behaved exactly as he did when commanding an army.

He loved breaking everything down into calculations.

Every shred of force.

Every point of injury.

He calculated them all with terrifying precision.

Back then, in the small grove outside the old Jin capital, the Sword Saint had been shaving away Tian Wujing’s physical defenses.

Tian Wujing, meanwhile, had been calculating exactly how much injury he should trade for exactly how much of the Sword Saint’s sword qi.

Then, when the moment came, one move overturned the entire situation.

Wu Mazi changed his grip.

In truth, when two men fought without outside interference, some things remained fixed.

Take this situation now.

The Shadow lineage had never grown smoothly.

Every generation’s Shadow chose and trained the next.

There was no possibility of raising some hollow display piece like Prince Fu, strong-looking but useless.

Yet with the two sides not appearing greatly different in raw strength, Wu Mazi clearly understood that in killing experience and method, he was not Prince of Jingnan’s match.

Prince of Jingnan wanted to enter the palace.

Wu Mazi could not let him enter.

He could not flee.

Could not dodge.

Could not avoid.

Then only one road remained.

Use the stupidest method possible and grind against him here.

Wu Mazi smiled.

He decided to change methods.

Trade wounds.

If they traded to the very end, he would probably still lose.

But he would inflict the greatest possible damage upon Prince of Jingnan.

From that perspective, it was worthwhile.

You are the one refusing to drown me beneath your soldiers.

Then do not blame me.

Wuyai trembled.

Wu Mazi charged again.

This time, he advanced without the slightest thought of retreat.

Tian Wujing retreated.

Kunwu and Wuyai collided more than ten times in the blink of an eye.

Because Tian Wujing kept stepping back, the distance between them opened once more.

Wu Mazi landed and licked his lips.

The Jingnan riders began tightening their legs against their horses, ready to charge at any moment.

“Your Highness. Why not let this humble one experience the edge of Great Yan’s iron cavalry instead?”

Tian Wujing did not answer.

The next instant, he moved forward and attacked Wu Mazi himself.

Excitement flashed in Wu Mazi’s eyes.

He turned the blade horizontal and cut directly across.

Boom!

This collision carried the feeling that both men had thrown everything into it.

Two men and two sabers struck together, yet the impact was several times more terrifying than boulders from siege engines colliding in midair.

Kunwu and Wuyai locked together.

Their wielders stood very close.

Blood and qi, through body, through flesh, through steel, began clashing wildly.

Competing.

Grinding.

“Why did Your Highness retreat earlier?”

“It was not worth it.”

Tian Wujing’s answer was simple.

You wanted to trade wounds.

I only wanted to trade blood and qi.

Victory over you is certain.

Why would I not choose the cheaper path?

“Your Highness is refreshingly honest.”

They could still speak during the struggle.

That did nothing to lessen the terrifying intensity of the contest.

One only needed to look beneath their feet.

Layer after layer of blue brick was being ground away by the spiraling force of their blood and qi.

Any man in full armor who stepped near them now would probably be shredded apart in an instant.

“Your Highness, this is my last battle. Are we really going to fight like this?”

“Like this.”

“But fighting like this has no flavor at all, Your Highness!”

Both of us are peak Third Grade Martial Artists.

This battle is destined to be told by later generations.

Forget making it absurdly gaudy.

At the very least, should there not be some flying sand and rolling stones?

Instead, they had somehow fought in the clumsiest manner imaginable for Martial Artists.

Wu Mazi was genuinely beginning to regret it.

Perhaps it would have been better to throw himself into a Jingnan cavalry charge, kill freely, and die freely.

Then, Wu Mazi sensed Prince of Jingnan add more force.

He immediately raised his blood and qi to match it.

Between Kunwu and Wuyai, silver serpents seemed to collide.

The piercing explosions were so violent that caged birds in several nearby households dropped dead on the spot.

Suddenly, Wu Mazi withdrew his saber first.

The saber came back.

His body went forward.

His left hand clenched into a fist and smashed downward!

Tian Wujing sent the saber forward while his body retreated.

He evaded Wu Mazi’s fist.

Kunwu, however, continued cutting down toward Wu Mazi.

With no choice, Wu Mazi used Wuyai to block again.

His punch could only complete half its motion.

Then

Tian Wujing followed.

The two fell right back into the familiar contest of steel, blood, and qi.

Wu Mazi tried again.

This time he withdrew the saber and whipped out one leg.

Tian Wujing responded in exactly the same way.

Body back.

Blade forward.

You may kick me once.

I will eat half the force of your kick.

But try and see whether one slash of Kunwu can cut you dead.

Wu Mazi wanted to trade wounds.

But this trade?

He would lose his grandmother’s coffin money.

His second attempt to disengage failed.

Both men were true experts.

Both were Martial Artists.

At their level, talking about techniques or secret arts no longer mattered much.

No matter how profound the art, in the end it came down to one fist, one kick, one slash.

So-called Heaven Grade, Earth Grade, and Profound Grade cultivation arts were mostly tricks jianghu swindlers used on young fools carrying a little silver in their pockets.

Even Count Pingye, whose household had always been extravagantly rich thanks to the Demon Kings, had never gone searching for some miraculous “Heaven Grade” art in hopes of jumping realms and defeating stronger opponents.

Count Pingye understood.

Whether on a battlefield or in single combat, when the gap in absolute strength was enormous, you did not need elaborate movements at all.

The stronger person simply killed the weaker one in an instant.

Just like the Sword Saint facing every fool whose opening line was:

“To think the mighty Sword Saint of Jin...”

When strength was close, what mattered was killing experience and control over blood and qi.

How much strength lies in your fist?

How much in my kick?

How many of my punches can you take?

How many of your kicks can I endure?

That was why, despite having Demon Kings around him and the Sword Saint living next door, Count Pingye’s daily cultivation remained simple.

Practice the saber.

Temper sinew and bone.

Shoot arrows with A’Ming.

Exchange moves with Liang Cheng.

The martial path was something solid.

Wu Mazi knew that principle.

What he could not endure was how absurdly solid Prince of Jingnan was.

So solid it felt like bullying.

“Your Highness, if future jianghu fights all become calculations like ours, what excitement will the jianghu have left?”

“Do you count as someone of the jianghu?”

Wu Mazi laughed.

“True. I do not.”

Then, Wu Mazi attempted a third disengagement.

Saber withdrawn.

Fist out.

Tian Wujing reacted exactly the same as before.

Body back.

Blade forward.

Again, without the slightest novelty, the two collided.

But this time Wu Mazi turned his blade at the exact moment of contact, intending to pull open a little distance.

Only this time, he had thrown the punch first and withdrawn the saber afterward.

The reverse of before.

Tian Wujing held Kunwu in his right hand.

The blade pressed against Wuyai.

At the same time, his left hand clenched into a fist and met Wu Mazi’s.

Wu Mazi suddenly laughed loudly.

“Then let Your Highness understand why the wontons I cook never tasted as good as my master’s. I have one fist that can open the Second Grade!”

Peak Third Grade was a threshold.

Above that threshold stood the First and Second Grades that the jianghu almost never saw, though everyone had already agreed they existed.

A man like Seventh Uncle, who cultivated one sword his entire life, could forcibly open a single Second Grade strike while possessing only Seventh Grade sword cultivation.

For a genuine peak Third Grade expert, peering briefly into the legendary Second Grade was naturally even more possible.

This was Wu Mazi’s prepared killing move.

He knew what Tian Wujing was doing.

And he knew Tian Wujing knew what he himself intended.

Between men like them, there were almost no secrets.

Unless for one instant, one side possessed enough power to break the balance.

Wu Mazi had not even dared use this fist earlier.

He feared that if it failed to achieve anything, he would lose his only chance.

So his previous failed attempts to disengage had merely been groundwork.

All of them existed for this fist.

Tian Wujing’s fist failed to intercept the impossibly fast strike.

In an instant, Wu Mazi’s fist was already smashing toward Tian Wujing’s head.

“Your Highness, did you calculate this fist too?”

Tian Wujing did not answer.

Instead, in that instant, his entire body abruptly shifted forward by the smallest fraction.

The bizarre movement made Wu Mazi’s eyes widen.

That was the aura of the Second Grade!

Because Tian Wujing forcibly shifted that short distance, Wu Mazi’s fist scraped past his face.

But Kunwu, carried by its master’s forward movement, suddenly closed the remaining distance to Wu Mazi.

The blade flashed.

Psh!

Everything seemed to stop.

Even the violent grinding of blood and qi from a moment earlier fell silent.

Autumn wind swept through.

It lifted the thick layers of stone dust covering the ground and spun them in tiny whirlpools through the air.

A bitter smile appeared on Wu Mazi’s face.

“I should have thought of it earlier. If my fist can enter the Second Grade, then your saber should be able to as well.”

Tian Wujing replied:

“No. My whole body can enter.”

“...” Wu Mazi.

He had believed he had calculated everything.

In the end, every calculation had already fallen inside the other man’s.

The feeling resembled struggling against Heaven.

No matter how one struggled, one could never escape its palm.

That taste was bitter.

Now Wu Mazi finally understood.

Tian Wujing had genuinely not wanted to trade wounds.

But more than that, he had not even wanted to waste blood and qi trading attrition.

He had simply waited for Wu Mazi to reveal his move.

Then broken it.

Wu Mazi knew how high the cost of forcibly opening the Second Grade was.

Yet this prince had not even been willing to remain in that state for one heartbeat longer than necessary.

He wanted to end a duel between two peak Third Grade Martial Artists in the cleanest possible manner.

In the manner he considered most profitable.

“How can someone like Your Highness possibly exist in this world...”

One man.

His martial strength could suppress the jianghu.

His military achievements could suppress the states.

Wu Mazi laughed miserably.

“So... Heaven truly should envy you.”

Thump!

Wu Mazi’s head swayed.

Then separated from his body and rolled onto the ground.

Tian Wujing sheathed his saber.

Bent down.

And picked up Wuyai.

The treasured saber passed through generations of Great Chu’s Shadow lineage.

Wuyai.

It had clashed with Kunwu hundreds of times without the slightest damage.

It deserved to be called an equal divine weapon.

Tian Wujing examined the broken saber.

Then suddenly coughed once.

Afterward, he slowly said:

“Better than that Barbarian Saber.”

[End of Chapter 582]