The moment Shuren's foot met with Ming's chest, a sword sliced right across his face!
He flicked his head in that last instant, reducing the damage as much as possible. Throwing Ming back dozens of metres with his kick didn't matter any more.
Intense pain radiated from his entire head, and half his vision was blotted out. On the right was the white landscape of snow, and on the left was the shadow delivered by the sword.
Ringing sounds came from his left ear, like a bell was being slammed over and over. The world itself seemed to fall apart at any moment, disorientation covering what was left of his mind.
The snow beneath Shuren's face turned into a swarming pool of fresh blood, a river of impeding death.
His trembling hands moved to his face, to feel for his injuries. And in the socket of his left eye, he felt an empty void.
A chunk of meat had fallen down by his feet.
His ear.
That one slice had taken away both his left eye and his ear, leaving a deep gash on the left side of his skull!
Shuren glared at his opponent, now backed away by over a dozen metres, kneeling with a hand to his chest. His sharp blue eyes were surrounded by ravaging bloodied veins, barely taking in what happened.
I thought I was controlling the tempo, but that was just a façade controlled by him the entire time!
Shuren grit his teeth to the point his gums were bulging out, and sharp whistles of air was exhaled out through the gaps between his teeth.
Soon, those sharp exhales turned into steam as Shuren employed the breathing style taught by his grandfather. To focus on the battle, and ignore all else in the world, even the pain and disarray of his own body.
Right now, I only have a third of my original Qi reserves left. But if Ming has more than me, even with his injuries, he can last longer through attrition. I have to decide now, do I go for the kill, or play as defensive as possible?
Shuren had to ignore the pain now! Even the distraction of pain would cause him to falter.
Every swordsman worthy of the blade would train to achieve a state of zen; where even the pain of your own body could be ignored to focus during battle! To embody a tranquil ocean in the midst of a storm!
Shuren used a staff, but he could still use the teachings of his grandfather.
He continued to breathe hot steam from his mouth, the inside of his body being forged into a perfect sword.
Having kicked Ming far away, Shuren regained his bearings. He closed the distant gap with a slow pace, waiting to see his opponent's next actions.
Ming stabbed his sword in the ground to use the hilt as a cane, regaining his stance to stand up once more. "You-" He coughed out blood, holding a hand on his chest.
His internal injuries had worsened. For a moment, he struggled to even gasp for air.
I won't fall for it again, Wu Ming!
Shuren didn't take the bait. By the time he tried to run the distance, Ming would've counter attacked with all his force. Like he'd just did now.
The price he paid now was an eye and ear, but next time, it would be his life.
With the neutral restored, both Shuren and Ming casually probed each other while closing the gap. Shuren kept a firm grip on his staff, awaiting his moment.
"You that scared of me coughing blood? You didn't even try to take that advantage," Ming teased while resting his sword above his shoulder. He wiped the blood off his mouth with his other hand, then beckoned Shuren over. "Come on! Fight me like a man!"
Shuren cocked his chin up with a sneer, even as his head was doused in blood. "Very well, I'll send you back home." The gap between them had shortened enough for his next move.
With a blur of his arm, Shuren launched his staff like a javelin and dashed forth.
A streak of blood fell from the side of Shuren's head as he ran, turning into a trail of crimson light amongst the snow.
Ming deflected it with ease, but the staff rebounded and with Qi Tether, returning to Shuren's grasp. But this time, though Shuren came within Ming's range, he didn't strike with his staff.
Weaving between the flurry of Ming's sword attacks, Shuren didn't allow a single slash to hit even his hair. The blood falling from his body splashed towards Ming, causing a slight distraction to his opponent.
Ming stepped back to prepare for a wide slash, covering as much space as possible. This guy, it's like his body has an aversion to swords itself! Exactly what kind of training does the Liu Clan give their members?!
Shuren skid back, stabbing his staff deep in the ground. He pulled out his hands in a stance once more, making Ming instinctively back away once again. This again? You think I'll fall for it twice, Liu Shuren?!
Unarmed, Shuren prepared to strike. But with Ming opening up a gap, Shuren didn't dash forth to enter close quarters combat.
He brought his leg up high, bringing it down for an axe kick. But it wasn't aimed at Ming.
His leg slammed into the part of the staff sticking out, bending it down until the second half in the ground exploded out.
Ming's vision had been covered by a mixture of snow, blood, and dirt. This guy!
With staff in hand, Shuren stepped forth, using everything he had to do the killing blow!
"This is the end, Wu Ming!"
The flying cloud of snow and debris dissipated, pushed away by Ming's outburst of Qi. Holding his sword upright with both hands, his eyes flickered as he used everything he had to clear all distractions away.
Shuren's only advantage had been lost!
But he still continued forward, unrelenting.
Even when steel cut through his liver, bringing him face to face with Ming.
The taste of bitter iron filled his mouth, and dark blood dripped out of his injury.
"You said I wouldn't be able to land a hit on you?" Ming taunted, relaxed as he finally dealt with Shuren with his killing blow.
Ming had stabbed his blade right through Shuren's body. With this, victory had been guaranteed!
His sword was jammed in Shuren's body, refusing to budge even when Ming pushed to tear him apart.
Shuren held a bloodied smile, stepping forward even as the sword dug deeper through his body. It slid further deep into his body, half the blade cutting out of his back.
The gap between Shuren and Ming had closed.
It didn't matter if he had completely run dry of his Qi Reserves. Ming had lost his advantage in battle.
And right now, Ming's defences were at his lowest.
This was what it meant to be a cultivator! To take risks in battle for the highest reward!
Shuren slammed his fist on Ming's jaw. He staggered back, unarmed, with the sword still jammed in Shuren's body.
Without stopping, Shuren grabbed the staff tucked in the snow. With a primal roar from the depths of his soul, he dragged out every vestige of energy left to slam it straight into Ming's skull.
Ming failed to muster enough Qi to protect his vitals. His brain shook from the blow to his chin. "Bastard, y-you really meant it when you said a sword couldn't just hit you." Struggling to keep stable, Ming fell flat on the ground.
There was only one thought in Ming's mind. The difference between them.
The gap between me and someone from an Immortal Clan is too large! He's only Stage 6, yet he put me in such a position with such ruthless battle intent! What kind of training did this guy go through?! Ming thought, taking a cold breath in to think it through. There was only so much being in a Rank 4 Clan not even specialised in battle could do for him.
Blue motes gathered on Ming, preparing to take him away from the battlefield.
It had been a while since Shuren enjoyed a raw battle such as this. He held a smile even through the maddening pain surging throughout his body. At least for this one moment, he could relish in this feeling. Besting a powerful swordsman such as Wu Ming.
"Don't think it came easy to develop that skill. I've been stabbed enough times for a lifetime with the sword." Shuren gripped the hilt of the sword embedded in him, dragging it out. Dark blood covered it from hilt to the end, akin to a demonic blade amongst the cold plains of the snow.
He stared at Wu Ming, but not with the expression of a winner, or of a conceited fellow.
Shuren held a sincere smile, glad to have partook in this duel. And with his next words, he offered Wu Ming a friendship.
"We should train together."
The average person would despair, wail or even remain stoic in the face of defeat.
As his body dissipated, Wu Ming left with a content smile.
Shuren barely held himself together. He was already dying. When even breathing felt like an arduous motion, Shuren kept his body still and his back wide. He held the bloodied sword in hand, using all his strength to raise it high in the sky.
The victor had been decided.
Amidst the cheers of the crowd at the entertaining show, with coins being bet by the commoners, spirit jades being put on the line by cultivators, and even mystical treasures traded amongst Elders of the Seven Clouds Sect, one man stood atop the bodies of a thousand others.
The winner of the Seven Clouds Sect finale, out of a thousand participants, and the ravenous involvement of even Deviant beasts, was clear to everyone in Cloud City.
The first step has been done. Liu Clan, and all the Supreme Elders that abandoned me after the death of my grandfather. Watch as I hone my blade and make my own way to become the rightful Patriarch! Even if that dog took my rightful place, I'll tear him down from the Throne of Blades!
The Fractured Realms, once buzzing with a thousand mortals and a thousand beasts, stood tranquil. That world held only one man.
The speckles of snowflakes drifting past his body were painted crimson, becoming blood glass snow flakes. The wintry winds dried the warm blood, colouring him into the visage of an undying demon. His left eye was shut tight, devoid of sight, and his right eye was wide open, its blue pupils radiating with elation.
This was… His first true victory. But not just the victory of besting a thousand other disciples.
It was his first step to make his plan come to fruition. To take back the Throne of Blades, reserved only for the inheritors of the Divine Sword Saint.
To allow his family to rest without the struggles of fighting for resources.
To be a proud son to his father, and a reliable brother to his siblings.
To become a true cultivator, worthy of traversing the world with none standing in his way!
Shuren took a deep, deep breath. To make a declaration to the world.
This wasn't the story of a grand hero, an evil demon. It wasn't the tale of a man who defied death and crossed worlds with the gift of a greater being. Nor was it the tale of a wandering sword saint, taking over the world with each slash of his blade.
He was no son blessed by the heavens, nor a commoner rising from the shadows.
This was the story of an arrogant young master, abandoned by his clan and forgotten by his forefathers. A young master who faced with his responsibilities and expectations of his lineage, wished to travel across the world. One experienced with the harshness of cultivators, but ignorant in the ways of mortals and the realities of the greater world.
He was just a man seeking the path of the sword.
Even if he was cursed to never wield it.
Liu Shuren roared in defiance of fate!
"My name is Liu Shuren! And I'll become the strongest swordsman in the world!"