Returning to the courtyard, Du Chengfeng examined the longsword in his hand.
The blade was three feet long, the hilt eight inches and two-tenths long. The sword's body was narrow and sharp, giving one the urge to stab or slice something just by holding it. This feeling wasn't due to any influence of the evil qi of weapons, but merely because the sword was too handy.
"This sword is indeed excellent."
Although Du Chengfeng hadn't seen many good swords, with his current understanding of weapons and combat, he could judge the quality of a weapon just by touching it.
Like this sword in his hand, the edge was sharp, capable of cutting hair with a breath, and its balance and feel were also top-notch.
This wasn't something that an ordinary folk workshop could create.
"It's called Wind-Riding."
The scarred man named Cui Yuan spoke, his voice full of cherishing.
"Please treat it with care, sir."
Du Chengfeng acted as if he hadn't heard such words.
To name a weapon and treat it as a person? No wonder this guy named Cui Yuan earlier seemed courteous in words but suddenly attacked him. Du Chengfeng initially thought that mental illness was just a term, but now it seemed that Cui Yuan's symptoms weren't light.
However, when Du Chengfeng placed the sword's blade on the whetstone, he understood that there was a reason why the sword was given a name.
That was fifteen years ago, when Cui Yuan was only fourteen, very young, and parentless. He had been following his teacher diligently in both literary and martial studies.
However, one day, his teacher suddenly gave his own sword to Cui Yuan as a farewell gift.
"Like a great bird riding the wind, soaring high into the sky, I hope you can be a person as straight as this sword."
Before leaving, Cui Yuan's teacher blessed his disciple like this and urged him to eat well.
But the young Cui Yuan just shook his head.
"Master, I'll go with you wherever you go."
"I told you not to call me Master. Call me Teacher."
The tall man squatted down, pressing Cui Yuan's shoulder.
"The teacher is going to a dangerous place this time to do something big, just as you have your ambitions, the teacher also has his own. In the future, only you will be left. Live well…"
"Then why can't I go?"
Cui Yuan bit his lip, tears already streaming down his face.
"Is it just because I'm the son of a bandit? Because of my background?"
"It's not about your background."
The tall man raised his hand to wipe away the tears on Cui Yuan's face.
"It's because this task is indeed dangerous. The teacher can do it, but your current strength is far from enough."
It was this farewell and the giving of the sword that made the young Cui Yuan determined to practice swordsmanship.
Up to this point, Du Chengfeng found it normal. After all, at the borders near Jibei, such painful farewells happen frequently. And over time, more swordsmen or martial artists appear in the region of Jizhou. They vow to become stronger while dying in some senseless vendetta.
But what he saw next made Du Chengfeng take notice.
Even after his teacher left, Cui Yuan did not slack off. Instead, his practice became more intense. Building his body, practicing techniques, washing, thrusting, blocking, hanging, picking, rubbing, and scraping, though they were the most basic sword techniques, Cui Yuan practiced them with utmost seriousness.
Wielding the sword three thousand times a day, Du Chengfeng had only heard others boast about it, but had never seen it done himself.
But Cui Yuan persisted for fifteen years.
The only witness to all this was the longsword named Wind-Riding.
Over fifteen years, Cui Yuan made a total of one hundred and thirty-five challenges. The Wind-Riding Sword never killed a nameless ghost, but any swordsman with a reputation in Jizhou or Youzhou had been sought out by Cui Yuan, challenged, and subsequently killed by a single strike.
Despite having no grievances, he ruthlessly killed each time. Such vicious acts were terrifying even among swordsmen who took lives as their profession. As a result, criticisms of Cui Yuan never ceased.
But Cui Yuan didn't care. He only saw it as part of his practice and a way to become stronger.
This time, not only Du Chengfeng but all swordsmen in Jibei began to think Cui Yuan was mentally unstable.
So as Cui Yuan's fame rose, he quickly became the target of many. In a short time, a hundred or so swordsmen banded together, intending to kill this lawless troublemaker.
But until the moment Cui Yuan drew his sword, these swordsmen realized that what they faced was no longer human.
It was a one-sided massacre. The swordsmen who initially thought they had the victory were like wheat being harvested, all falling to the ground. Even those who tried to flee were chased down by Cui Yuan and had their throats pierced. Every swordsman who participated in that ambush became a ghost under Cui Yuan's sword without exception.
And this experience of one against a hundred finally confirmed for Cui Yuan that his swordsmanship had reached a minor success.
So to bring his swordsmanship to major success, at the age of twenty-nine, Cui Yuan had to challenge his final opponent.
That was Liu Qingyun, a renowned swordsman in Jizhou, known as the "Fast Blade". When Cui Yuan was still young, it was this young Fast Blade Hero who single-handedly wiped out a bandit stronghold in Youzhou with just a long knife in his hand.
Also killing Cui Yuan's parents.
But Cui Yuan knew that he wasn't doing this for revenge. Rather than dwelling on those trivial matters, he wanted more to overcome the fear and unease imprinted in his heart since childhood.
Only by crossing this last and first mountain could his sword become invincible, peerless under heaven.
Only then could he cut through all difficulties and obstacles.
"Hiss..."
After finishing sharpening the longsword, Du Chengfeng glanced at the sword in his hand and then at Cui Yuan standing in front of him, and he couldn't help but start feeling a toothache.
Strictly speaking, this was the first time he truly encountered a living person who wielded a deadly weapon yet remained rational. Although Cui Yuan's manner of speaking and acting seemed rather like a mental patient, Du Chengfeng merely thought it looked that way. After all, the other person knew to knock before visiting, apologize after doing something wrong, and wash hands after using the restroom — all quite normal behaviors.
But who could have thought that this swordsman named Cui Yuan really had a bit of a mental issue.
It's true that the longsword had accumulated a large amount of evil Qi, but Cui Yuan's obsession with becoming stronger had already surpassed the act of killing itself. Rather than the sword driving Cui Yuan to kill, it was Cui Yuan driving this sword, using killing as a way to measure his own power.
Just like right now.
"I mean, I didn't even charge you any money, right?"
Seeing Cui Yuan take the longsword and point its tip at him, Du Chengfeng's expression turned grim.
"Is this how you treat a kind-hearted person?"
"Earlier, you didn't go all out."
Saying this, Cui Yuan, standing with the sword, looked towards Du Chengfeng's side.
A heavy two-handed great saber lay there quietly.
Evil Qi surged.
"This is your usual weapon! This is your real skill!"
The man named Cui Yuan tightly gripped the longsword, staring intently into Du Chengfeng's eyes.
Reflecting in Du Chengfeng's vision was a glimpse of rational madness he had seen countless times on that Wind-Riding Sword.
"Didn't expect to meet such an opponent before mastering my swordsmanship! Please guide me!"
Shh——
Saying this, the sharp Wind-Riding Sword lunged towards Du Chengfeng, swift as a bolt of lightning.
Yet Du Chengfeng still managed to dodge away.
After honing his skills just now, Du Chengfeng had completely familiarized himself with Cui Yuan's sword movements. Now darting back and forth, Cui Yuan couldn't land a single strike on him — but this only excited Cui Yuan further, making the longsword in his hand ever quicker and more urgent!
"Yes! This is it! This is exactly what I want!"
Swinging the longsword, Cui Yuan had never felt so exhilarated, as if, at this moment, the opponent in front of him was another version of himself.
What could be more exhilarating than battling oneself?
Of course, there is something more exhilarating, and that's battling someone stronger than oneself.
Only by stepping over the skeletons of the strong could he become stronger!
"Come!"
After a chain of sixteen consecutive strikes, Du Chengfeng was finally pushed into a corner by Cui Yuan's sword edge.
And it was at this moment that Cui Yuan finally saw the man named Du Chengfeng in front of him grip that heavy great saber.
"Good!"
Cui Yuan straightened his sword and shouted, a flash of sword light.
"Zheng——"
The piercing sound of clashing metal reverberated in the room.
And Cui Yuan's longsword had already brushed past the opponent's neck.
"Hoo..."
Breathed a long sigh of relief, Cui Yuan couldn't help but feel a weight lifted from his heart.
Although he already knew that this knife-sharpening Master Craftsman named Du Chengfeng was somewhat capable, that heavy great saber still shocked him. Just seeing that blade almost overflowing with savage ferocity, it was clear that only a battle-hardened and brave Martial Artist could wield such a weapon.
Luckily, once again, he was the victor.
Once again, he had defeated a strong enemy with his own strength, and once again, he had cleaved through his inner fears with the edge of his sword.
His sword had once more sliced through the hardships and obstacles, just as his teacher had once urged him to do.
A great roc catches the wind one day, soaring straight up ninety thousand miles.
Just like the sword in his hand, he had finally become a knowledgeable and virtuous, yet peerlessly skilled swordsman.
Just like the sword in his hand...
"...Hmm?"
As he was about to sheathe his sword, Cui Yuan couldn't help but be taken aback.
He found that the originally more than three-foot-long sword in his hand had somehow been reduced to just a foot and a half.
The half-piece sword tip that should have grazed the opponent's neck was nowhere to be found.