Chapter 512: Why Does It Seem Like You Warriors of the Desolate Sea Realm Know Everything?!

"A contest of swordsmanship?" The warriors of the Desolate Sea Realm looked at one another in mutual bewilderment.

This so-called contest of blade craft meant that neither side would deploy their ultimate lethal manifestations—classified as martial techniques by the natives of this otherworldly domain—nor would they suppress their opponent through sheer cultivation strength, relying instead solely upon the wealth of their combat finesse to achieve victory.

Consequently, in an engagement bound by such stipulations, the invocation of grand, devastating arts like the Ten Directions Invincible was, naturally, strictly forbidden.

Before the warriors of the Desolate Sea Realm had stepped into the fray, the Frost Dragon Clan had advanced with irresistible momentum, utterly crushing several masters of the Haotian Academy.

Yet the moment the combatants of the Desolate Sea Realm made their appearance, the clan suffered three consecutive defeats, each more humiliating than the last; how could such disgrace be endured?

They had just witnessed how the martial techniques of two successive Desolate Sea warriors were overwhelmingly formidable; thus, they sought to avoid that sharp edge, choosing instead to engage from a different domain.

To say nothing of the other clans, even the previously arrogant Frost Dragon Clan dared not speak with their former hubris.

Any notion of trampling the opposition had long since been abandoned; their sole hope now was to claw back at least a single round.

Otherwise, should word spread that the Frost Dragon Clan had been utterly annihilated by a band of warriors emerging from obscurity, where would they ever hide their faces again?

Furthermore, they reasoned that these Desolate Sea warriors, entirely unknown until their sudden emergence, could at most excel in one specific facet and could not possibly be flawless in all aspects.

Earlier, when Liang Heihu had unleashed the Myriad Swords Returning to the Ancestor, he had summoned a vast multitude of the blades belonging to those present; some had already been returned to their masters, while others, finding the process tedious, simply went to retrieve them themselves.

Nalan Hongwu was among the latter.

It was precisely at this juncture that Tchaikov repeated his inquiry regarding a trial of sword skills.

"Allow this old man to try," Nalan Hongwu murmured casually.

Seeing that Tchaikov held a two-handed greatsword, Nalan Hongwu reached down and casually plucked a greatsword from the earth, casting a glance at a youth from the Western Polar Realm who had come to reclaim his weapon—the very same Iberli who had been thrashed earlier: "Lend this to this old man for a moment."

"Eh—?"

"Using a greatsword?!"

Not only were Iberli and the warriors of the Frost Dragon Clan dumbfounded, but the entire gathering of onlookers from the Western Polar Realm stood frozen in disbelief.

It was common knowledge that the cultivators of Lingzhou conventionally favored single-handed longswords, and judging by the blades wielded by the Desolate Sea cultivators just moments ago, they shared that exact preference.

In other words, only the warriors of the Western Polar Realm were accustomed to two-handed swords; as for two-handed broadswords and greatswords, such massive armaments had been unique to the Western Polar Realm since antiquity.

Yet now, their adversary had actually chosen a two-handed greatsword as thick as a door panel to contest in swordsmanship?!

Tchaikov flew into a raging frenzy on the spot, shouting in the Western Polar tongue: "I shall soon make you understand the meaning of flaunting martial arts before a Martial Emperor!"

"Hmph! To think that you warriors of the Desolate Sea Realm would be so arrogant!" The previously composed Thea now found her delicate face turning completely pale with anger.

If she was moved to such wrath, the surrounding, inherently boastful warriors of the Frost Dragon Clan fared far worse, erupting into a chorus of shouts:

"Defeat him!"

"Teach him a lesson!"

"To dare flaunt two-handed swordsmanship before Elder Tchaikov, he must truly be tired of living!"

"Elder Tchaikov is the grandmaster of swordsmanship within our clan; where could you Desolate Sea warriors have even learned the art of the two-handed sword?!"

In truth, none believed that a warrior from the Desolate Sea Realm could properly wield a two-handed greatsword.

Though the greatsword and the single-handed sword both belonged to the category of blades, they represented two entirely distinct systems; mastering the single-handed sword by no means meant one could deftly handle a two-handed greatsword.

And when Tchaikov noticed that the white-haired elder before him, despite holding a two-handed greatsword, maintained a single-handed gripping posture, a faint, cold sneer formed on his lips: this man did not know how to use a greatsword at all; victory was assured.

With a thunderous roar, Tchaikov leapt high into the air, his greatsword churning a massive pressure of wind, looking as though he held a veritable mountain in his grasp as he chopped down fiercely toward Nalan Hongwu!

In the very next instant, a flash of sword light erupted.

A greatsword weighing hundreds of catties seemed like nothing more than a feather in Nalan Hongwu's grip.

A strike as swift as lightning flashed, and Tchaikov was driven back over ten paces, his soul unsettled by terror.

The fabric over his chest had already been sliced open; had he not evaded with absolute precision, he would likely have been severed cleanly in two!

"What manner of swordsmanship is this?!"

Or rather, had he directly applied the techniques of a single-handed sword to a two-handed greatsword?!

Before he could formulate an answer, Nalan Hongwu closed the distance, leaping into the heavens with a single stride, gripping the hilt with both hands this time.

The exact same downward cleave descended, yet compared to Tchaikov's prior strike, this single blade possessed not only the weight of a mountain but the swift ferocity of thunder!

"Cloud?!" Song Qingfeng recognized it instantly, "The old master watches Final Fantasy as well?!"

Boom!

The earth ruptured violently; as Nalan Hongwu's blade cleaved down, the fan-shaped expanse of earth several chang before him exploded with soil and stone, carved instantly into a massive crater.

"A greatsword is not meant to be used in the manner you display," Nalan Hongwu remarked, looking down at the frantically dodging Tchaikov.

"Observe closely the true method of the greatsword!" As the words left his lips, Nalan Hongwu hurtled forward like a cannonball; Tchaikov screamed internally as disaster loomed, having barely evaded one strike before Nalan Hongwu's greatsword shifted its momentum as though it possessed no weight at all, turning like a shadow clinging to bone to cleave at Tchaikov once more.

A succession of strikes rained down; when weight was demanded, it fell like Mount Tai pressing down, and when speed was required, it flashed like a passing shadow. Tchaikov's swordsmanship seemed refined to the utmost limit, yet when Nalan Hongwu unleashed his forms, they were more concentrated than Tchaikov's own, appearing less like human martial arts and more like the movements of a precise instrument of war!

Every movement, every posture, was the optimal manifestation of slaughter, deceptively simple; yet it was precisely this simplicity that struck terror into Tchaikov's heart.

At the very least, a complex and profound sword style could use intricate forms to deceive an enemy; conversely, simple swordsmanship indicated that the opponent had entirely bypassed and discarded all superfluous, flamboyant embellishments, returning complexity to pure essence.

Only a genius blessed with supreme combat talent, tempered through countless battles, could ever hope to attain such a realm.

Yet this white-haired elder before him was actually capable of achieving this?!

Even as Tchaikov exerted every ounce of his strength to ward off the tempestuous assault raining from every conceivable angle, Nalan Hongwu drew his single-handed sword from his waist with his free hand.

A greatsword in one hand, a single-handed sword in the other, striking

...

It was impossible to tell how many rounds they had fought.

"How is it that you warriors from the Desolate Sea seem to know absolutely everything?!" Thea suddenly gasped, struck by a frustrating realization that made her want to cough up blood.

.