The sword came from every direction.
Ethan's opponent didn't follow any pattern when attacking.
He simply struck with a fast barrage of slashes like a railgun, forcing Ethan to remain in a defensive stance, not allowing him a single window to counterattack or do anything else.
One minute had already passed since the fight began, and Ethan had been able to do nothing except let his opponent have his sadistic way.
Still, it was interesting to Ethan.
His opponent clearly had issues.
He seemed sadistic, deriving pleasure from the pain and suffering of others.
He appeared to enjoy crushing participants who came here with the hope of joining one of the greatest sects on the continent, relishing the moment when hope left their faces.
Yet, despite his cruelty, he had not done anything beyond the rules, no dirty tricks, no killing, no crippling.
The rules of the fight stated that sect members would not kill or seriously injure participants, but nothing mentioned that they had to go easy on them.
The other sect members hadn't gone easy either, but they at least didn't go overboard, except for the twin brothers.
Ethan was fighting one of them right now.
They weren't holding back one bit, even though it was clear the participants were weaker.
Even if the participants had real skill, they couldn't show it because they never got the chance.
The same went for Ethan.
There were still two and a half minutes left before the fight ended, and within that time, he had to show something impressive enough for the elders to pass him to the final test.
The final test was the simplest one.
More of a requirement check, to see if participants possessed attunement to the unique energy known as [Qi].
Ethan gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the pain in his arms and legs.
Until now, all he had done was absorb the incoming attacks with his sword.
He hadn't even been able to maintain proper form.
Still, fighting in person had allowed him to notice errors, blind spots, and gaps in his opponent's swordsmanship.
But he hadn't had the chance to exploit them, mostly because his body couldn't keep up with his thoughts.
His stamina was weaker than his strength and speed, and his body was already on the verge of giving out.
At this rate, it wouldn't even last the remaining three minutes, and one had already passed.
"Damn it, I have to come up with something," Ethan muttered in frustration, deflecting another incoming strike.
The impact sent a shock of pain coursing through his arm.
He leapt back a few steps, but within moments, his opponent appeared in front of him again.
This time, Ethan wasn't about to stay on the defensive.
He jumped away once more, refusing to be trapped in a defensive position.
The sect member was relentless, but every time he attempted his barrage of sword slashes, Ethan escaped.
Ethan wasn't even thinking of stopping.
He continued leaping around, running instead of meeting his opponent's strikes head-on.
"I guess I could use that. It should be more than enough to impress the elders, but what will happen to me? There's a chance I'll break every bone in my body. Nothing new." Ethan took a deep breath, preparing himself to use one of the thousands of skills he possessed.
He kept dodging, avoiding his opponent's attacks.
This went on for half a minute, making the sect member grit his teeth in frustration, veins popping on his forehead.
"Stop running away like a cockroach, you imbecile!" the sect member snapped, the first words he had spoken since the fight began.
Only one minute remained before the fight ended, and the elders were watching with little interest.
After all, all Ethan had done was defend and run away.
That wasn't skill.
But then, after dodging one last time, Ethan suddenly stopped.
His opponent was caught off guard as Ethan rushed forward, pushing his body to the limit and successfully appearing right in front of him.
The sect member's sword was mid-swing, coming down at Ethan.
Ethan seized the opening, kicking the sect member hard, trying to force him onto his back.
He didn't wait to see the result. Ignoring his pain, he charged forward again.
"Shit," Ethan's eyes widened.
Contrary to what he expected, the sect member didn't fall on his back.
Instead, he rolled and regained his footing, jumping back to avoid Ethan's follow-up strike.
This time, however, his expression had changed.
He was angry.
He hadn't expected Ethan to kick him like that, and now Ethan would have to pay.
Ethan knew his plan had failed, but he didn't stop.
He jumped at the sect member anyway.
The sect member, regaining his stance, swung back instead of defending.
He clearly didn't believe Ethan's attack could harm him.
Both swords clashed, Ethan's coming down from above with all his strength, his opponent's rising upward to cancel the strike and throw him back.
"This is it."
Ethan's green eyes sharpened.
His muscles tensed to the absolute limit, veins bulged, and his body burned with unbearable pain.
At the same time, his sword began to shine faintly with a strange white light, visible even to the normal participants who had no supernatural perception.
The instant their swords collided, a sharp metallic clang rang out, echoing across the arena.
A moment later, the sect member's blade shattered into two pieces as Ethan's sword tore straight through it, continuing downward until it carved a long gash into the ground.
Silence fell.
The sect member stared blankly at the hilt in his hand, then at the broken blade on the ground.
"His attack… broke mine?" he whispered, eyes darting toward Ethan, who was collapsed on the ground, still gripping his own sword.
The white glow faded, and then cracks spread across his blade before it, too, shattered into pieces.
"Argh… fucking hell…" Ethan groaned.
He couldn't move.
If he tried, his body felt like it would fall apart just like his sword.
Blood leaked from his orifices, bones broken and cracked all over, eyes bloodshot.
The pain was far worse than what he had felt during the first test.
He didn't notice the shocked reactions of the sect members and participants, who clearly understood what he had just done.
"Well, that was unexpected…" one elder muttered.
"Did he… did he just…?" another examiner stammered.
"That was Sword Intent," an elder said, eyes wide with disbelief.
"How is that possible? It takes months, years, for an average new cultivator to grasp Sword Intent. And he hasn't even become a cultivator yet. It shouldn't be possible." Another elder rubbed his chin, baffled.
"Perhaps he was born with an innate talent for the sword. Or maybe he possesses a unique constitution that grants him accelerated cognitive abilities. I don't see how else it could be possible," another elder suggested with a shrug.
"Whatever the case, his body clearly can't handle Sword Intent…" one elder said grimly, watching as sect members carried Ethan off to the bleachers.
"Anyway, should we pass him?" another elder asked.
"Does Sword Intent count as a skill?" one questioned.
"I don't think so. He may have performed Sword Intent, but it feels more like an ability he was born with. He still hasn't shown skill developed through training," another elder argued.
"But he performed Sword Intent as a mortal. That's impressive," an elder countered.
"If he had learned it through training, his body wouldn't have collapsed like that. It must have been a lucky accident, not his skill," another elder said.
"Hm… how about we vote?" one elder suggested. "Raise your hand if you think he deserves to pass."
Two raised their hands. Three did not.
"So we fail him?"
"I don't know if we should pass or fail him…" another muttered.
"So two for passing, two against…" an elder sighed.
"Let him pass."
A sixth voice spoke.
The five examiners immediately bowed in respect.
The vice sect master had arrived.
"But, Vice Sect Master… we still don't know if that Sword Intent was an accident or if he truly knows how to wield it," one elder said.
"There are no accidents," the vice sect master replied.
"I believe he knew what he was doing and planned it from the start. Even if he didn't, a mortal capable of wielding Sword Intent is extraordinary. Plus, he defeated his opponent by breaking his weapon. I'd call that a passing grade." The vice sect master glanced at Ethan, who was lying on the bleachers.
"Give him a low-grade healing pill as a small prize, for being the only one to defeat a sect member without being a cultivator."
With that, he took his seat in the tower.
...
[A/N: If you liked this chapter, don't forget to donate some POWER STONES and add it to your library. No pressure! Thank you for checking out the novel.]