Chen Xin fell deep into contemplation after listening to Xiao Tian's analysis of Tang San's hidden weapons. His suspicion toward hidden weapons as a whole had already waned.
At last, he sighed and asked:
"Then, in your opinion, should our sect purchase the hidden weapons made by Tang San?"
Xiao Tian did not hesitate. "Buy. But be selective. If Tang San truly produces a Zhuge Divine Crossbow capable of harming Soul Sects, then every clan member should have one. As for the others? They're basically useless. You can purchase them in small quantities, but don't waste money. The only thing to be mindful about is cost."
Chen Xin waved a hand dismissively. "You needn't worry about that. The Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect is wealthy. Even if hidden weapons are expensive, our coffers can carry the burden. What matters to me is only one thing—whether Tang San's weapons will truly be useful."
Xiao Tian's lips twitched. So this is how a rich man speaks… even money is treated as trivial?
"Grandpa Jian, you misunderstood me," Xiao Tian explained patiently. "I'm not saying you lack money. What I mean is this—buy one batch, bring it back to the sect, and on the pretext of showing it to Sect Master Ning, let some high-level blacksmiths examine the materials. Have them appraise the real cost of production. That way, you avoid Tang San blackmailing you with sky-high prices."
He paused then added meaningfully, "Because hidden weapons are consumables. Each one fired is one less. Every mechanism will need future maintenance or replacement. The upkeep could be enormous."
Chen Xin, struck by the practicality of Xiao Tian's perspective, nodded gravely. "Yes… you are right. Wealth is one thing, but cost-effectiveness is another."
Tang San might be clever, but how much could a single person manufacture? To support the entire sect's demand, the feasibility was questionable at best. Further talk could wait until the boy produced his so-called Zhuge Crossbow. For now, Chen Xin's interest was piqued elsewhere.
He leaned forward slightly, eyes glinting.
"Xiao Tian, forgive my boldness. But may I ask… when did you begin to comprehend sword intent?"
Xiao Tian's calm reply was like a quiet thunderclap.
"It was not long after I awakened my martial spirit. Truthfully, even before awakening, I always felt an innate affinity for swords. From as far back as I could remember, every day of my life was spent with a sword in hand."
For one of the strongest sword cultivators alive, Chen Xin was left speechless.
"…!" His heart shook violently.
Back when he was of comparable age, sword intent was a mountain peak still distant, unreachable. But here before him stood a boy who, at twelve years old, not only grasped it—he wielded it to terrifying effect in live combat.
For the first time in many years, Sword Douluo Chen Xin felt a gnawing sense of inferiority.
He forced a faint laugh to cover his unease. "Haha… I hadn't expected that your talent in the sword would reach such height. Then—let us speak candidly. What is sword intent, to you?"
His question was half a test, half genuine curiosity.
Xiao Tian closed his eyes briefly, then spoke with measured weight.
"Sword Intent… is the state where one's comprehension and practice of the sword transcends mere form. It is the soul, the temperament, the will of the sword. A perfect resonance between the sword and its wielder."
His gaze sharpened. "It can manifest as sword momentum, sword energy, sword heart, even evolve into a sword domain. For instance—my Exorcism Sword Technique earlier contained no sword intent. Only when imbued with intent can sword techniques grow beyond technique—into sharpness capable of suppressing the heavens."
Chen Xin's stern face flickered; admiration rose quietly like an uninvited tide. Even his own long years of cultivation had not distilled the concept so clearly.
Yet as he digested the words, he shook his head slowly.
"Xiao Tian, your sword intent is strong, certainly. But something is still missing."
Xiao Tian blinked. "…Missing? What do you mean?"
Chen Xin's voice was serious, each word carrying weight.
"Attribute.
Intent requires a character, a personality. For instance, my own Seven Killing Sword Intent carries murderous aura. Its very presence can freeze opponents, intimidating them before blades even cross. Your sword intent, while sharp and forceful, lacks such defining attribute. It's like a sword edge—keen, yes, but colorless. Give it attribute—and it will transcend what you hold now."
Boom!
Xiao Tian's entire chest vibrated as if a bottleneck cracked open inside him.
Yes… that's it!
"Grandpa Jian, I understand now!"
Without wasting time, he excused himself, rushing into the courtyard, eyes alight.
…
In the training grounds, Sword Fifteen materialized in his hand. He closed his eyes, letting sword intent flood outward, cloaking his whole being. But now with Chen Xin's words echoing in his ears, he sought a new resonance—a defining edge.
Slowly… surely… a change stirred.
The crowd gathered curiously, Tang San among them, eyes narrowed.
"Grandpa Jian," Ning Rongrong whispered in awe, "what's Xiao Tian doing?"
Chen Xin stroked his beard, silent for a moment. Then he spoke gravely. "Don't interrupt. He's grasping… something new. A breakthrough during our 'Dao' discussion."
Zhu Zhuqing, standing apart, clenched her clawed hands. Xiao Tian's aura made her heart itch. "Xiao Tian," she called lightly. "How about… we test this insight together?"
Xiao Tian opened his eyes and smiled faintly. "Very well. Let's practice. Don't hold back."
Her gaze sharpened. "I never do."
The sudden overlay of spirit energy surged—her Nether Cat martial spirit burst into possession form, lending her unnatural speed. Her graceful figure blurred, vanishing, circling Xiao Tian like a shadow. She was searching for the tiniest flaw, the slit in his aura.
Then—!
"First Soul Skill, Nether Stab!"
Her body vanished in a straight-line burst of speed. In a flash, Zhu Zhuqing struck forward, claws gleaming, her body moving faster than the eye could follow.
But in the same instant, Xiao Tian's body slipped sideways with supernatural ease. His blade rose languidly—yet precisely blocked her claws.
Their eyes locked. For the briefest heartbeat, her gaze met his—so deep and calm she faltered. Her chest trembled. Unbidden, her heart fluttered once, and she reflexively sprang back.
But Xiao Tian's low chuckle followed. "…Too late."
Boom.
His sword intent shifted violently, the previously translucent aura turning into substance—a strange blue-black hue.
The sword swung. A wave of blue-black energy tore across the air, sweeping directly toward Zhu Zhuqing.
Her pupils shrank, body jerking aside. She managed to evade—partially. But a searing line licked across her right arm, splitting fabric, biting skin. Blood trickled.
She winced but curled her lip in silence.
Then… her stomach dropped.
Because as she prepared to leap again… her speed faltered.
"What…?"
Confusion and dread pooled in her eyes. The agility that defined her combat vanished, smothered by something unnatural. It felt as if her movements had slowed by nearly a tenth—a crushing disadvantage for an agility-type.
Chen Xin's eyes blazed. He forced himself calm, but awe drummed through his chest.
"…Do you see?" he murmured coldly to the others. "This is it. Xiao Tian's new sword intent does not merely strike. It slows. His sword aura carries attribute power now."
He eyed Zhu Zhuqing with pity. "In combat, speed is your only shield. To lose it… is death. You lost this duel. Xiao Tian let you off lightly—had he willed it, his sword strike just now would've ended more than just your sprint."
Zhu Zhuqing's lips parted. She silently gazed at Xiao Tian, stunned that such a simple slash had shackled her strongest trait. At last, she said quietly, "…I admit defeat."
The training field went silent.
Every gaze turned to Xiao Tian—the boy standing straight, sword humming faintly, the blue-black aura dissipating around him.
Chen Xin exhaled slowly, emotion threading his voice. "Xiao Tian… astonishing. To add attribute to one's sword intent mere moments after discussing it—this is monstrous comprehension. Tell me, what do you call this?"
Xiao Tian smiled faintly, sheathing his sword.
"The Slow Sword Intent."
At that exact moment, his system chimed in his mind, cold mechanical tone sounding clearly:
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for defeating the God of Speed, Zhu Zhuqing. Though she held back out of affection for the host, even Sword Douluo was utterly shocked by your mastery!]
The world held its breath around Xiao Tian—while Tang San's jealousy burned hotter, heart boiling like poison.
--
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