He looked at the old man, who was stroking his beard—it was somewhat long. His head wasn't tall but massive, almost like a mass gathered backward, with hair scattered around and covering his ears and parts of his face. He was tall, nearly two meters, but a few centimeters shorter—no more than five.
After finishing his speech, the old man added,
"Boy, your aura is terrifying. It's so strong it sends chills through me. Your mastery of the sword has reached perfection—or maybe even surpassed it. It's as if you've merged with your blade. So fight me, and I'll help you find your enlightenment. Just know—I do not show mercy in battle."
I replied,
"Good. I'm not merciful to frail, crazy old men either."
I picked up my sword and stood, but it seemed the old man was both angry and amused—laughing madly. What kind of insanity was this? He unleashed an aura that covered the entire arena. Even elite Tang clan fighters, who had reached the First Realm, froze under the pressure. But I didn't give in. I released my aura in return and dashed toward him.
The moment I tried to strike, he vanished from his place and reappeared behind me. Yet for some reason, I felt it—I sensed the attack and dodged it, redirecting my strike toward the wall, which cracked deeply from the impact.
Suddenly, I heard the old man's voice whisper in my ear:
"Boy, never lose focus in battle. It usually leads to death."
I parried with my sword, relying on my Wave Blade style. Though I reduced the damage, there was no room to get hit by this monstrous warrior. I charged at him again, and he swung horizontally. I blocked it, but he redirected and went for my neck. I dodged again and managed to deflect his strike with my technique.
But he didn't let up. He launched a flurry of swift attacks—some so fast they seemed like teleportation. And again, my body moved on its own, instinctively parrying every move.
The old man grinned and said,
"Child, you've truly fused with the sword. Anyone watching would think you've trained for thousands of years. You've gone beyond perfection. Your body anticipates every possibility—even ones that resemble previous patterns. This doesn't happen unless one has reached the Ascension Realm. Your body predicts attacks and reacts faster than thought. What kind of hellish training did you go through?"
I interrupted,
"Enough talk. Let's finish this fight."
He smiled, raised his sword, and charged. I dodged beautifully—seeing all his attacks. But then... he changed. His strikes became random and chaotic—yet complex. He released a powerful aura slash, and though I cut through it, my body was heavily injured. My chest began to bleed. Still, I pressed on with one arm.
It became harder and harder—like my mind was blanking out. In the middle of battle, he redirected a wave slash toward my back. I blocked it, but he tricked me. He held back and used only a tiny amount of energy while I used nearly everything—leading to a huge clash of auras. A massive explosion occurred. My vision blurred. I blacked out.
Inside my mind, I met another version of myself—one with brown and blue hair wearing white robes. He had no form before but said,
"I can take form in your mental world. But something's wrong. You mentioned an old man? That's strange. No one else has been summoned here before without my awareness."
I asked him to show me what was happening outside. He did.
Back in the arena, my unconscious body—Tian Shi—stood with lifeless eyes, holding a sword. He dashed past the Tang family head, launching thousands of strikes in a second. The Tang leader blocked them all but was still slightly injured. Tian Shi's body was preparing to strike children outside the palace, but the Tang Patriarch fully unleashed his power and intercepted.
They clashed. Even at 60% strength, the Tang leader barely held him back. The arena was nearly destroyed.
Back in the mind realm, my inner self said,
"You're in a state called unconscious flow. It allows your body to utilize every bit of skill and memory it has. Unlike conscious focus, where your awareness sharpens, the unconscious state executes without awareness—pure instinct. But there's a danger. If your memories are filled with blood and violence, your unconscious form can mistake friend for foe."
I asked,
"Can I take control?"
He replied,
"You must enter the realm of the unconscious fully. But beware—it is a void. No feeling. No self. If you lose awareness in there, you may never come back."
I entered.
It was terrifying. Just pure emptiness. But a fragment of me—my will—remained. That fragment shone with light and shattered the void. I reformed, standing in a blinding white space. In front of me stood a figure—pure black, no features, like a shadow.
I thought,
"Who is this? Is he the one who brought me back?"
The figure spoke,
"So you've obtained absolute will in the mental realm. I am your unconscious manifestation—your helper, your executor of every technique you've learned."
I said,
"Stop the battle outside."
He replied mockingly,
"Why should I? You have potential—you might even achieve enlightenment from this."
He attacked. My body began to vanish. I tried to fight back, but even my sword was erased. Suddenly, light burst from within me, pushing back the disintegration. I stepped forward and grabbed him by the throat.
"You're useless to me now. I don't need a failure."
He begged for mercy,
"I promise—I won't do it again!"
I didn't let him finish. I poured light into him and erased him.
With my will, I reshaped the unconscious realm. I created a tree—the Tree of Memories—that contained all of my past, both conscious and subconscious. From it emerged a new entity, resembling me: the Absolute Unconscious, dressed in white with black eyes.
He greeted me and said,
"I now serve you. The unconscious is yours. I've stopped the unconscious combat mode. I've also created this tree, containing every memory and experience you've had."
I asked,
"How do I reach the state of flow?"
He answered,
"Flow is when conscious and unconscious overlap. It's not full fusion—but an interlinking of memory, awareness, and instinct."
I thanked him and returned to my conscious self.
There stood Chang Yi, smiling.
"Welcome back, Sovereign of Will. That old man you fought? He was a memory remnant from someone you've killed before. Your subconscious preserved his entire being."
I replied,
"Understood. If you find anything else, message me mentally. Here, take a fragment of my will."
I gave him a tenth of my will. That should be enough.
Back in the real world, I woke up in the arena—my body destroyed. The old man charged at me again, but I dodged effortlessly. My mind was clear—I could feel every attack before it happened. I dodged with ease.
I said,
"Old man, stop. I've broken through the unconscious."
He answered,
"I won't let you live, brat!"
I yelled,
"Enough, you drunk bastard!"
He halted and chuckled,
"Very well. Let's end this. You're a genius, boy."
His words faded. I collapsed.
I awoke in bed, bandaged all over. Ching Yan and Ching Jin were by my side. They must've stayed with me all night.
A young master entered,
"You're insane, fighting my grandfather like that. You're stronger than I thought."
I replied,
"He held back—only used 60%. If not for that, I'd have lost."
He added,
"The documents are resolved. Also, the Shadow Phantom gang has been internally destroyed."
I was stunned by how fast everything had moved.