"CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK."
With every blocked strike, Ye Feng skidded backward across the ground, his arms aching as the puppet's sword came down with overwhelming weight and force.
In terms of strength, the puppet overwhelmed Ye Feng without effort. Its swordsmanship was leagues above his—every swing faster, sharper, and more precise. Ye Feng was completely outclassed, clinging to a single advantage: his footwork.
Ye Feng decided to rely on his footwork—the only advantage he held over the puppet. Dancing around it, he launched a flurry of sword attacks.
Dancing around the puppet, Ye Feng rained sword strikes onto its body from every conceivable angle, Saint Force surging along his blade.
"CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK!"
However, despite the flurry of sword strikes Ye Feng had just executed, only faint scratch marks appeared on the puppet's body. Its body was far sturdier than the puppets he had encountered on the pagoda's first level.
Ye Feng parried the puppet's relentless sword strikes, abandoning all offense and concentrating entirely on counterattacks.
"CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK!!"
"SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!"
Ye Feng was too slow to parry every one of the puppet's sword strikes. Those he couldn't deflect, he was forced to block, yet even that proved insufficient—several attacks still broke past his guard.
Ye Feng's body was already riddled with deep cuts. The puppet followed up with a horizontal slash meant to cleave him in two. At the final moment, Ye Feng wrenched his sword aside and blocked the attack just in time.
"CLANK!"
Ye Feng was sent flying backward as the puppet charged after him. This is bad, he shouted in his mind. Before he could stabilize himself, the puppet's sword flashed.
"SLASH."
The blade tore deep into Ye Feng's torso. Blood erupted like a fountain, spraying through the air as his body twisted from the impact.
Ye Feng's vision faded in and out, his thoughts slipping into a fog as the blood drained from his body.
Ye Feng dropped to one knee, hearing the puppet's footsteps inching closer. "Not good. I need to focus, or I'll die here. I must concentrate on my sword."
Ye Feng rolled sharply to the side, narrowly evading another strike from the puppet's sword. "I have to block all distractions and focus only on the sword."
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as he calmed his racing mind. Slowly, he tuned out the chaos around him, channeling every ounce of his concentration into his sword gripping it tightly in his hand.
The puppet swung its sword at the defenseless Ye Feng again. "SLASH!" The blade cut deep into his waist, and blood gushed out, staining the ground crimson.
Ye Feng gritted his teeth, pushing past the pain, and forced his mind to sharpen. "I must focus only on the sword. Think only of the sword."
Ye Feng slowly opened his eyes. They gleamed with a new intensity—sharp, like sharp swords, cutting through the haze of pain and blood. With every passing second, that sharpness deepened.
He met the puppet's relentless sword strikes: "CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK."
Ye Feng leaped, flipping to the side, and swung his sword in a wide arc—"CLANK." The strike barely left a scratch on the puppet.
The puppet swung its sword with relentless ferocity, forcing Ye Feng to block each strike: "CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK."
Every time Ye Feng blocked a sword strike, he was forced a few steps backward. The puppet's relentless strikes kept overpowering him, gradually pushing him off balance. The puppet then lunged forward, aiming to finish Ye Feng once and for all.
As Ye Feng fell to the ground, the puppet swung its sword downward. Reacting quickly, Ye Feng raised his sword to block the strike—CLANK! The force of the blow was overwhelming; the puppet's sword slammed into him, driving him harshly into the ground.
Ye Feng spat a spray of blood from his mouth and cursed, "Damn it!" He forced himself to his feet, taking a deep, steadying breath. "I need to focus… focus on the sword. Every fiber of his being—heart, soul, mind—he concentrated entirely on the weapon in his hand. Nothing else existed. Only the sword."
After a few seconds, the light in Ye Feng's eyes began to fade, replaced entirely by his focus on his own sword—and the puppet's. The sounds around him slowly dulled, leaving only the clash of metal: CLANK, CLANK, CLANK. Moments later, the scent of his own blood vanished, and his vision plunged into complete darkness.
________
Ye Feng looked around in disbelief. He found himself in a desolate land where the earth was crimson, as though soaked in blood. The thick, suffocating stench of blood sent shivers crawling up his spine. Even the mountains and hills in the distance were stained red, giving the land an unsettling, nightmarish aura.
Numerous swords of varying shapes and sizes were embedded in the ground. Ye Feng also saw countless blades lodged into the mountain ahead, their silhouettes jutting out like a forest of steel.
He started walking toward the hill and soon saw that countless swords were embedded there as well. Ye Feng frowned in confusion and asked himself, "Where am I?"
He looked around again, bewildered, but suddenly froze when he glanced at his own body. His eyes widened as he asked in disbelief, "What happened? How are all my injuries healed? And where is that puppet I was fighting?"
After a few moments, he heard approaching footsteps and saw a figure walking toward him. The man was clad in a black robe, his face shrouded in shadow, and he wielded a crimson sword. The blade's tip dragged lightly against the ground as he advanced calmly toward Ye Feng.
All of a sudden, the black-robed figure charged at Ye Feng with incredible speed and swung his sword down in a vertical arc. Ye Feng's eyes widened in shock at the sudden attack. He quickly flipped backward, narrowly dodging the strike.
"What the hell?!" Ye Feng yelled.
The black-robed figure did not reply. Without slowing down, he charged at Ye Feng again, moving with the same terrifying speed as before.
Ye Feng quickly grabbed the hilt of one of the swords embedded in the ground beside him and yanked it free. He raised it just in time, blocking the black-robed person's strike with a sharp "CLANK."
Ye Feng glared at the black-robed person after blocking his sword strike and said angrily, "If you want a fight, then I'll give you one—and I'll make you regret attacking me out of nowhere."
Their swords collided again and again as Ye Feng and the black-robed person exchanged rapid blows—"CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK."
Ye Feng unleashed a relentless barrage of horizontal and vertical slashes, sharp thrusts, and swift counterstrikes, but the black-robed person responded with flawless precision, skillfully blocking and parrying every one of Ye Feng's attacks.
Every time the black-robed person parried Ye Feng's sword strikes, he immediately counterattacked, swinging his blade with incredible speed to cut him down. Ye Feng managed to dodge several strikes by ducking under them, but he couldn't evade them all—the black-robed person's sword was simply too fast.
Despite the countless cuts covering his body, Ye Feng refused to yield. He pressed on relentlessly, clashing swords with the black-robed figure and launching attack after attack with unwavering determination.
Ye Feng lunged, thrusting his sword toward the black-robed person's throat. In an instant, the black-robed person deftly parried, deflecting the blade aside and surging forward, intent on finishing him. Ye Feng's eyes widened in alarm, and he sprang backward, putting as much distance as he could between himself and his relentless foe.
The black-robed person surged forward relentlessly, and once again, their swords met in a furious clash: "CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK."
Ye Feng and the black-robed person continued to clash swords relentlessly. Ye Feng's swordsmanship is improving at an astonishing rate, each movement more precise than the last. His footwork becoming sharper, more fluid, as if the battle itself was teaching him the rhythm of combat.
They danced with their swords, each clash echoing with precision and fury.
Ye Feng struggled to keep up as the black-robed person's sword strikes grew faster and more precise. His reflexes lagged, and the strikes came too quickly to block. "SQUASH, SQUASH, SQUASH!" Three deep gashes tore across his chest, waist, and shoulder, while countless smaller cuts raked his body, each one burning with pain.
_____
Back in the pagoda
There was no light left in Ye Feng's eyes; he looked like an empty shell, devoid of any soul. Yet, his aura grew stronger with every passing second, surging outward as if he were absorbing a high-ranking monster core.
Ye Feng continued battling the puppet as if his injuries didn't exist. His entire body was drenched in his own blood, flowing freely from countless wounds—from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes.
The crimson liquid stained the ground beneath him, yet he moved with unyielding determination, each strike sharper and more relentless than the last.
He looked like a devil drenched in human blood. Ye Feng's swordsmanship and footwork grew sharper and more precise with each passing moment, just like his otherself in the crimson desolate land.
Ye Feng's sword swings is growing faster, stronger, and sharper with each passing moment. He was now keeping pace with the puppet in swordsmanship, his movements fluid and precise. Every strike from the puppet was met with flawless parries and blocks; no attack could get past him anymore.
"CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK." Ye Feng and the puppet exchanged sword strikes at a blistering pace. With each swing, Ye Feng's sword no longer left mere scratches—deep, jagged marks began to etch themselves into the puppet's body, evidence of his growing strength and precision.
_______
Outside the pagoda
Two students had been teleported from the pagoda. One was a burly boy with spiky red hair and a fair complexion, while the other had long blue hair and equally fair skin. Both were unconscious, their bodies battered and bleeding heavily from the injuries they had sustained inside the pagoda. Without wasting a moment, the academy staff rushed them to the medical bay.
All the students outside the pagoda were still whispering, their eyes wide with curiosity, wondering who the mysterious student was that had reached the second level.
Ye Long was stunned when he saw the two students who had just teleported from the pagoda, for that sight confirmed the identity of the student who had reached the second level—it was his fifth brother.
Su Hau looked at Ye Long and said, "Brother Long, I can't believe it… your fifth brother is the one who reached the second level." Zi Ma chuckled softly at Su Hau's remark and nodded in agreement. Ye Long slowly nodded his head, he is still stunned by what he was witnessing.
_________
In the pagoda
The puppet's body was riddled with deep sword marks from Ye Feng's relentless strikes. With a swift motion, the puppet swung his sword, aiming straight for Ye Feng's head. Ye Feng ducked under the blow and, in a flash, thrust his sword toward the puppet's forehead with astonishing speed.
When Ye Feng's sword grazed the puppet's forehead, it instantly glowed in a silver light, while it was coated with Saint Force. Without hesitation, he drove the blade deep into the puppet's forehead, leaving a trail of blinding energy in its wake.
Ye Feng's sword pierced the puppet's forehead effortlessly, cutting through it as if it were nothing but butter. The moment he withdrew his blade, the puppet collapsed to the ground, completely motionless.
After Ye Feng defeated the puppet, two walls lifted into the air, revealing a pair of wooden doors. Slowly, the doors creaked open, and two puppets stepped out. One gripped a heavy black spear, its polished surface gleaming ominously, while the other wielded a black halberd, the weapon radiating a menacing presence.
The two puppets charged at Ye Feng as soon as they stepped out of the wooden doors, their weapons slicing through the air. Ye Feng leapt over their heads, landing behind the spear-wielding puppet. Without hesitation, he swung his sword at the puppet, coating the blade in saint force. "CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK!" The strikes came fast and furious, but despite the relentless assault, the puppet remained unyielding. Ye Feng's sword left deep grooves across its back, yet the mechanical warrior refused to falter.
___________
Back in the crimson desolate land
Ye Feng and the black-robed figure clashed in a blur of steel, their swords striking again and again: "CLANK! CLANK! CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!" Sparks flew with each collision, and the sound of metal echoed like thunder across the crimson desolate land.
The black-robed person thrust his sword straight toward Ye Feng's heart, but Ye Feng deftly parried the attack and countered with a swift strike to behead the black-robed person's head in one fluid motion.
The black-robed person ducked beneath Ye Feng's sword swing and drove his blade straight into Ye Feng's heart.
Ye Feng's body stiffened. He coughed up a mouthful of blood, the metallic taste filling his throat.
"So this is how I die."
He let out a bitter laugh. "What a shame."
"I wanted to reach the pinnacle of the cultivation world, I wanted to fully comprehend the Sword Dao and explore it's mysteries."
"But It seems I won't be given the chance to achieve either."
The light in Ye Feng's eyes dimmed rapidly after his death. Slowly, he began to vanish from the crimson, desolate land, as if he had never existed.
__________
In the Pagoda
The light in Ye Feng's eyes suddenly flared back to life. The spear-wielding puppet lunged, its weapon aimed straight at his heart. Yet, before the strike could connect, Ye Feng's body went limp. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
The spear missed Ye Feng as he tumbled to the ground. Just then, the formation stone blazed to life, and it teleported him outside the pagoda.