Chapter 56: The Young Monk

Lin Fei expressionless, merely took a casual step forward, and his figure materialized instantly on Liu Heng's left.

The brilliance upon the sword surged dramatically once again, resembling a black serpent coiled around the blade.

A flash of sword light, its speed so dazzling as to confound the eye.

Liu Heng crossed his fists in front of his chest in an attempt to parry, yet it was futile. His body slammed into the adjacent wall like a kite with a snapped string.

"Though your fist technique appears tremendously formidable, it is actually superficial—altogether too hollow."

Lin Fei's figure appeared before Liu Heng like a phantom, and another sword strike swept outward.

Faced with such humiliation, Liu Heng's visage contorted with burning rage. He emitted a roar that shook the heavens, the radiance upon his fists blazing with dazzling brilliance.

This time, rather than choosing defense, he drove the spiritual energy within his body to its absolute limit, surging like a boiling river. He stamped his foot fiercely against the ground, his right fist tearing through the air with a piercing screech as it smashed violently toward Lin Fei.

Bang!

The fist collided with the tip of the sword mid-air. After a brief stalemate, Liu Heng's fist was deflected, and a bloody gash appeared across his chest.

Once more, his body was sent flying, crashing heavily against the wall.

The ensuing scene played out as if time were reversing.

Lin Fei continuously wielded the longsword in his hand. With every single step forward came the execution of a sword strike—neither more nor less, as precise as a woodcutter cleaving logs in the mountains. The longsword would pause ever so slightly at its zenith, and then descend with the force of a myriad jun.

Though devoid of fancy maneuvers, that longsword seemed to carry an irresistible, unstoppable momentum, beating Liu Heng into a state of utter helplessness and wretched extremes.

After a dozen exchanges, Liu Heng was swept once again by a sword strike. A violent churning arose within his chest and abdomen; he spat a mouthful of blood and dropped to one knee upon the ground.

"Impossible... Impossible..." Liu Heng's eyes were filled with agony and incomprehension as he muttered to himself, "Clearly my cultivation realm is higher than yours, why... why on earth is this so?"

"To measure victory and defeat by cultivation realm is the most foolish behavior of all."

Lin Fei's expression remained calm as he said indifferently, "Moreover, while your innate talent is outstanding, compared to true top-tier experts, you still fall somewhat short. Furthermore, no matter how formidable one's talent may be, it is entirely meaningless to me."

Slowly, Lin Fei raised the longsword in his hand, the tip pointing directly at Liu Heng, the brilliance on the blade flowing ceaselessly.

"Show mercy!" A voice came rolling from afar like distant thunder.

Yet Lin Fei acted as though he heard nothing, bringing his sword down in a thrust.

Clang—a crisp ringing sound echoed.

Lin Fei's sword was struck by a hard object, causing the tip to deflect and plunge deep into the stone ground.

Directly following this, a figure appeared before Liu Heng, heralded by a gentle breeze.

Lin Fei shifted his gaze to look.

The newcomer possessed a serene countenance, bright eyes, and thick eyebrows. Most striking of all was his completely bald pate.

Astonishingly, it was a young monk.

Amidst this freezing snowy night, he wore only a ragged, grey monastic robe and stood barefoot.

Lin Fei turned his head slightly to observe a palm-sized stone embedded in the ground.

This was the "hidden weapon" that had just deflected his longsword.

Yet the distance between that monk and himself was at least five hundred meters.

In his heart, Lin Fei understood that the origins of this monk were by no means trivial.

He was a monk hailing from the Leiyin Temple.

The young monk's voice was gentle and tranquil: "This benefactor, why must your methods be so ruthlessly severe?"

There was not a trace of reproach in his tone, only a mellow tranquility that brought peace to the heart.

A fierce glint flashed through Liu Heng's eyes, and he hastily addressed Monk Wuwang: "Master Wuwang! This person is precisely Lin Fei, who was accepted as a disciple by the Sword Sect's sect master in recent years, and the primary culprit behind the slaughter that wiped out the Lin family's forty-eight souls back then. Quick, apprehend him!"

Monk Wuwang's brows furrowed slightly, revealing a trace of astonishment.

Lin Fei's expression remained completely unruffled as he abruptly posed a question: "Among the 'Wu' generation, what is your ranking?"

The monk brought his palms together in a salute, his demeanor humble: "This impoverished monk ranks tenth."

Lin Fei nodded and said, "So that is how it is. Then you are the first."

Monk Wuwang shook his head gently, his tone tinged with modesty: "I dare not accept such a title."

"Tenth" and "First"—at first hearing, these two statements seemed entirely unrelated, but Lin Fei had caught the subtext within them.

Ever since the publication of the Academy's Hidden Dragon Rankings, the younger generations of the various sacred grounds had gradually stepped into the light, becoming the focal points of attention in the cultivation world.

For example, Liu Xuan of the Martial Emperor City, Wen Dao of the Dao Palace, and Jinxiu of Penglai were all young cultivators favored by numerous practitioners across the mainland.

As for Monk Wuwang, who ranked tenth among the 'Nian' generation of Leiyin Temple, he occupied the fourth spot high up on the Hidden Dragon Rankings. He could well be called the "leader" of Leiyin Temple's younger generation in this era; thus, naturally, he was the first.

The young monk remained silent for a moment before speaking slowly: "I can more or less guess that you are Lin Fei, but is what Liu Heng just said the truth?"

Lin Fei's tone was as placid as still water: "So what if it is? What if it isn't?"

"If it is not, then that is naturally for the best."

Monk Wuwang's expression gradually grew solemn, his words revealing an unquestionable resolve: "But if it is truly as Liu Heng claims, and you have committed such a heinous crime, as the current leader of the younger generation of Leiyin Temple, I will certainly strip away your cultivation with my own hands and hand you over to the Sword Sect for punishment."

His voice was as steadfast as a boulder, faintly carrying the majesty of a Buddhist Vajra.

Lin Fei gazed into Monk Wuwang's steady and clear black eyes, seemingly lost in memory as a long-lost warmth flashed through his gaze.

A moment later, Lin Fei retracted all emotion, asking in a calm tone: "I intend to kill him. Will you step aside or not?"

The young monk shook his head, answering with absolute finality: "Naturally, I will not."

Lin Fei nodded and said, "Then let us do battle."

Monk Wuwang quietly watched Lin Fei. After a long while, he spoke earnestly: "Your cultivation realm is too low; you will not be my match."

There was neither contempt nor arrogance in his words, merely the stating of an indisputable fact.

As an eminent monk ranking fourth on the Hidden Dragon Rankings, his realm vastly surpassed that of ordinary people, and naturally he was qualified to utter such words.

Lin Fei did not refute him, but rather remarked casually: "I have recently comprehended a new sword stance. Since your hide is thick and tough, you will serve perfectly to test whether my swordsmanship has grown rusty."

His tone was relaxed, as though he viewed Monk Wuwang merely as an ordinary wooden practice post for swordsmanship.

Anyone else might have been consumed by blazing fury, but Monk Wuwang maintained his equanimity, merely giving a slight nod: "Then I shall receive this sword strike from you."

Lin Fei felt no surprise; the monks of Leiyin Temple had always been renowned for their magnanimity, and even a thousand years later, this seemed to remain unchanged.

He took ten steps back and exhaled a long breath gently.

Upon the ancient sword in his hand, sword qi surged once more, a black streak of sword qi winding around his right wrist like a spiritual snake, looking startlingly lifelike.

A moment later, the accumulated snow upon the courtyard ground began to tremble faintly.

The snowflakes drifting through the sky froze motionlessly around Lin Fei, neither rising nor falling, as if locked in mid-air.

Though the sword technique had yet to be unleashed, the entire courtyard was already saturated with his sword intent.