Chapter 760: Two-Person Battle, Two-Nation Battle (Part 5)

The mountain range that cuts across the Western Regions like a giant sword, dividing the western world in two, is renowned as the "Mountain of Ten Thousand Ancestors," the origin of all the world's dragon veins. At a treacherous mountain pass that traverses the Western Regions from north to south, the cliffs on either side rise tens of fathoms high, forming sheer precipices. The path itself is rugged and deep, making this fissure in the mountain range a vital channel connecting the north and south of the Western Regions.

A caravan struggled through, the rhythmic jingle of camel bells accompanying them. The merchants wore tight-waisted Hufu and sturdy leather boots. Among them were some veiled women, also stout and tall. Rumors in the Central Plains claimed that people in the Western Regions preferred to treat women like men and men like livestock. Regardless of gender, all these merchants traveling from south to north carried scimitars at their waists. Some exceptionally strong men also had unique armor pouches hanging near their camels' rear humps. These pouches contained crudely made iron chainmail, which allowed them to quickly don armor and fight on their camels, treating them like horses, in case of unexpected attacks from horse bandits or brigands.

The camel train was suddenly startled by a series of muffled, thunder-like sounds from a distance. The caravan abruptly halted, their faces blanching. They mistakenly believed they had encountered a large band of horse bandits lying in wait at the pass and now surging towards them. Over fifty people simultaneously drew their swords, and the young, strong men quickly donned their iron armor from the pouches. However, everyone knew that if they truly faced horse bandits capable of creating such a commotion, their meager fighting strength would, at best, only cost the bandits a few lives. Yet, in the chaotic Western Regions, where law had been absent for over two hundred years, as long as one possessed swift horses and blades, there was no shortage of those willing to risk their lives.

Just as the camels were not yet fully arrayed, someone with sharp eyes looked up and witnessed a terrifying sight: a figure "running" along the high cliff face, then descending rapidly like a hawk swooping to hunt, landing directly in front of them. After his feet touched the ground, he took seven or eight small steps forward due to inertia, stopping just ten paces from the camel train. Everyone in the caravan was dumbfounded; some subconsciously swallowed. The man who had descended from the sky had features unlike those of Western Regions people: he was young, handsome, and remarkably clean. The young man carried a longsword in a white scabbard on his back and a saber at his waist. His lips dry, he took a deep breath, then raised an arm as if to drink, and with a smile, asked in the common tongue of the Western Regions, "Do you have any water?"

The camel train remained silent, unsure how to react. However, a veiled woman unhesitatingly took off a goatskin waterskin with a little water left in it and tossed it high to the man who seemed like a mountain spirit. The young man, with his saber and sword, thanked her, then swiftly leaped forward, caught the waterskin in mid-air, glanced back with a grin, then stomped on nothingness, twisting his body and crashing against the cliff face. He then bent slightly, using the momentum to surge forward, continuing his "roof-running and wall-climbing" as he had arrived. As he ran, he raised the waterskin and drank deeply, emptying it. With a casual flick, he tossed it backward, where it landed precisely on the head of the veiled woman. Just as the woman reached out to catch the waterskin, a strong wind suddenly rose in front of the camel train, and another person descended from the sky, like a meteorite crashing heavily onto the ground. A powerful gust brushed their faces, causing all the camels to step back a few paces. The waterskin slipped from the woman's grasp and fell gently onto the sand. Before anyone could clearly see the new arrival's face, he sprang up from the ground and vanished in a flash.

Many years later, a legend of "the immortal who borrowed water" became widely spread throughout the Western Regions.

Hundreds of miles south of the mountain range, as dusk approached, two long-standing warlord factions, which had dominated the southern Western Regions for years, clashed violently over a woman of famed beauty. With over two thousand warhorses between them, they fought by the shores of Emerald Lake, renowned throughout the Western Regions. It was said that the disadvantaged faction, after a young prince of Beiliang had risen to fame, hoped to exchange the beautiful woman from their clan for three hundred sets of iron armor and a thousand crossbows from Beiliang, whose cavalry was unmatched, in order to dominate the southern Western Regions. Seven hundred knights had set out to escort the woman to Beiliang. They were ambushed at Emerald Lake. After an hour of fierce fighting, the pursuing faction discovered that the woman had already taken a detour and secretly made her way to Beiliang. Enraged and humiliated, they swore to wipe out that cunning tribe until only the woman remained, vowing to see how they would rise in the desert without men capable of fighting on horseback.

Just as both sides, exhausted, were about to dismount and continue fighting on foot after their mounted charge, the entire battlefield was torn in two by a single figure. Horses and riders immediately fell in disarray, and the severed battle lines, regardless of friend or foe, stared at each other, then simultaneously looked towards the intruder. They saw him with knees bent, one hand gripping the hilt of a sword, the other with two fingers supporting the tip, holding the sword horizontally across his chest. The longsword in front of him bent into a semi-circular arc, and even after the dust settled, the sword maintained its strange curve, not straightening.

Another burly figure passed through the fissure in the battlefield, charging with unparalleled might towards the man holding the sword. The latter, with the two fingers supporting the sword tip, wiped along the blade. The powerful internal energy that had bent the longsword and refused to disperse for so long, then rolled and condensed within that semi-circle. Combined with his own infusion of qi, it finally formed a crackling purple lightning ball. With a nimble flick of his wrist, he met the enemy with a "reverse sword hold"! The fist-sized purple lightning orb danced and spun around the sword tip. When the burly figure, clinging like a tenacious disease, appeared fifty paces in front of him, the young swordsman, travel-stained but showing no hint of dejection, smiled faintly. Instead of retreating, he advanced, holding the Taia sword in reverse, generating thunder within an inch. This sword strike possessed both the renowned "reverse hold" style that Deng Tai'a used to survey the land from atop a donkey, and the sublime power of Gu Jiantang's "Inch of Thunder" blade.

Tuoba Pusa slapped away the purple lightning that spun from the sword tip to the hilt and then surged towards his face. At the same time, he pressed his hand onto the sword hilt to prevent its momentum from growing further, and swept a whip-kick towards Xu Fengnian's neck. When Xu Fengnian's sword was effortlessly pushed away, causing him to release it, Tuoba Pusa knew the man was playing tricks again. But with brute force, he believed, one could overcome cleverness. He simply didn't believe that Xu Fengnian, who relied more on defense than offense, could truly set up a fatal trap. The whip-kick swept out without hesitation. Xu Fengnian, having released his sword, raised his elbow to block the powerful kick. With Tuoba Pusa as the center, Xu Fengnian was spun in a complete circle by the kick before being centrifugally flung out of the circle.

It seemed Tuoba Pusa had the upper hand, but when Tuoba Pusa's feet landed, Xu Fengnian, who had already gripped the hilt of the saber at his right hip with his left hand while spinning, retreated then advanced. The saber was drawn only half an inch from its sheath, and within that half-inch, it emitted a dazzling light. All the dumbfounded onlookers on the battlefield had their eyes pierced by this brilliance, and even after closing them, tears flowed incessantly. Xu Fengnian held the saber but was not in a hurry to fully draw it. As he charged forward, he drew it half an inch by half an inch. The chaotic, sun-like radiance also condensed, solidifying like water freezing into ice.

Although these changes were complex, they happened in the blink of an eye as Xu Fengnian moved back and forth. Tuoba Pusa, composed, narrowed his eyes, waiting for Xu Fengnian to likely fully draw his saber ten paces away, prepared to meet whatever came. Was Gu Jiantang's famous "Inch of Thunder" finally coming? As for the purple lightning that had been slapped away but hadn't dispersed, now circling behind him, Tuoba Pusa didn't consider it a threat at all. Because compared to his agile movements, the purple lightning's speed was slow, too slow. In martial arts, if something is even slightly slow, no matter how immense its power—like an overturning mountain—it is useless.

Xu Fengnian, wielding the famous Great Feng saber "Qi Yun," closed in. Indeed, just as Tuoba Pusa predicted, at ten paces, its keen edge was fully revealed. But Tuoba Pusa guessed one thing wrong: the "Inch of Thunder" didn't unleash itself upon drawing the saber, but upon its re-sheathing. Between the two, thunder suddenly erupted from the flat ground. Even Tuoba Pusa, with his genuine Vajra-realm physique, dared not fully withstand this rolling thunder. He thrust both palms outwards and slightly upwards, deflecting most of the force, and his body naturally shifted sideways. Xu Fengnian faced the direct line of impact, and a continuous roar echoed. Over a hundred people on both sides were struck by the gale, instantly uprooted like trees broken by the wind, falling backward.

After evading the initial brunt, Tuoba Pusa almost instinctively channeled his internal energy for six hundred li, preparing for Xu Fengnian's true killing move that would follow. As expected, Xu Fengnian's "Inch of Thunder" was the re-sheathing, and his second move was a complete drawing of the saber. A dazzling white arc, like a dragon winding through mountains, surged towards Tuoba Pusa. Tuoba Pusa's "single breath" attack had begun an incense stick earlier, reaching its peak when he had previously punched and bent Xu Fengnian's horizontally held Roaring Sword, throwing Xu Fengnian into this battlefield. Although his momentum had inevitably diminished, it was still more than enough to shatter this white arc. Tuoba Pusa, determined to succeed with a single punch, spared no effort. He bent his arm in a hammer-like stance, not only shattering the white arc but also striking the narrow saber itself. Xu Fengnian was attempting to exhaust Tuoba Pusa's qi, waiting for a fleeting moment of vulnerability as he took a breath. But Tuoba Pusa was also waiting for Xu Fengnian to become exhausted and reveal a weakness while drawing a new breath. Therefore, his punch aimed not only to force Xu Fengnian's current qi to deplete but also to compel him to reluctantly take a new breath during his retreat.

However, Xu Fengnian's response was completely unexpected. He clearly wasn't going all out like Tuoba Pusa but chose to leave himself room to maneuver. He allowed a portion of Tuoba Pusa's punch to pass through the saber and strike his chest. Xu Fengnian's body spun backward through the air like a fluttering butterfly, and just as he was about to hit the ground, the tip of his narrow saber lightly touched the earth, kicking up a large cloud of yellow sand. His body leaned back, and he staggered backward, facing Tuoba Pusa. The old qi he had held since his last breath, which he hadn't exhaled, completely dissipated. Immediately after, his lips moved slightly, and he exhaled gently, or more accurately, attempted to exhale in one continuous breath.

Tuoba Pusa sneered. Why would he give Xu Fengnian a chance to casually take a breath? Seizing the brief moment while Xu Fengnian was frantically trying to breathe and his qi hadn't risen, he strode forward and unleashed a furious barrage of punches. Although Tuoba Pusa had only a third of his strength left, if this punch connected, it would be far more effective than Xu Fengnian enduring his full strength at his peak. Like a precise strike to a snake's vital point, it would surely make this constantly surprising man spit out a bowlful of fresh blood.

From birth to death, every living being constantly engages in an activity most easily overlooked: breathing. An inhale, an exhale, repeating endlessly, whether awake or asleep, millions upon millions of times. The Daoist breathing techniques for cultivating life and achieving longevity are about returning to simplicity, making the greatest achievements over ages out of the smallest matter of breathing. It is rare for a pure martial artist in the Vajra realm to kill a Finger-Profound expert from the Three Teachings, but even if it happens, no one would be surprised, because the gap between the Vajra and Finger-Profound realms is not a chasm. The truly difficult threshold to cross is the Celestial Phenomenon realm. The reason "Human Cat" Han Diaosi was so famous in the Liyang Jianghu, even hailed as the foremost figure below true land immortals, was precisely because his Finger-Profound realm allowed him to contend with, or even kill, grandmasters of the Celestial Phenomenon realm, who breathed with heaven and earth.

Tuoba Pusa's eyes blazed with fierce resolve. With an angry roar, he forcibly took a breath, his body stabilizing, his feet sinking deep into the ground. His two fists, originally aimed at Xu Fengnian, knocked against each other, and his internal energy surged dramatically. It turned out that in the instant before, Tuoba Pusa was astonished to find that Xu Fengnian's longsword, which had flown from his hand, had "coincidentally" returned to its scabbard as if pulled by an invisible force, precisely when Xu Fengnian retreated and took a breath. At the same time, the "leisurely" purple lightning, which Tuoba Pusa had disregarded, burst forth with astonishing speed, surging towards his back.

Blood trickled from the corner of Xu Fengnian's mouth as he silently murmured, "Return home." The "Roaring Sword" on his back howled ceaselessly within its scabbard, like the final cry of an autumn cicada singing of the mortal world, or like an old man yearning to die in his hometown after many years abroad. All one thousand-plus people on the battlefield clutched their heads and covered their ears, squatting on the ground, but still couldn't alleviate the intense pain, as if sharp needles were piercing their eardrums. Behind Tuoba Pusa, a two-zhang (approx. 6.6 meter) tall purple-gold lotus seemed to bloom, its petals unfurling in fury. Tuoba Pusa had clearly still underestimated the power of this "sheathed sword" strike. He was struck as if by a booming bell, forced to take a step forward, his body leaning forward like a hunchback, barely managing to dissipate the force.

Tuoba Pusa silently swallowed the blood that had welled up in his throat, his face expressionless, as he looked at the young man who had risen to prominence during this "once-in-a-thousand-years auspicious year" for the Jianghu. This God of War of Beimang showed neither surprise at witnessing a new technique nor anger at being at a disadvantage. Throughout this fierce struggle, Xu Fengnian, whose internal energy and physical foundation were slightly inferior, would, with every breath, display one or two profound techniques usually reserved as ultimate trump cards by ordinary martial arts grandmasters. This allowed him to create a significant distance to catch his breath. Each time, Tuoba Pusa believed it would be the last surprise, yet Xu Fengnian always managed to conjure a "new hope around the corner" scenario when in dire straits. Li Chungang's Sword Dao, Deng Tai'a's sword arts, the sword moves of Jian Jiu Huang, Lu Baijie, Huang Qing, and others, Wang Xianzhi's fist, Hong Xixiang's "Circle," Liu Haoshi's Celestial Phenomenon, Han Shengxuan's Finger-Profound, Wang Chonglou's Finger-Profound, scholarly aura, immortal-buddhist aura... there was no end, no limit.

This peak battle, between two of the Four Grandmasters, served as a whetstone for honing the highest martial arts.

In the dawn, a black speck raced along the snow-capped ridge towards the summit, like a tiny mustard seed amidst a vast sea of snow. The man, with sword on his back and saber at his waist, suddenly stopped, squatted down, and looked higher and further. He casually grabbed a handful of snow, haphazardly wiped his face, and rubbed the stubble on his chin. After a moment's hesitation, he simply drew the "Qi Yun" narrow saber, tilted his head, and used the gleaming blade to shave his beard. Unlike the first four or five days of fighting and retreating, the situation between him and Tuoba Pusa had reversed since the struggle the night before last. In one day and two nights, they had exchanged blows six times, and Tuoba Pusa had voluntarily retreated four times. Also, unlike the previous slow, back-and-forth fighting, now both sides would retreat if their attack missed, not seeking a prolonged battle but aiming for a single, fatal blow.

After the Chicken Soup Monk gave him the Buddhist alms bowl, Xu Fengnian had foolishly waited for Tuoba Pusa in the Western Regions city precisely to use Tuoba Pusa's fierce attacks to temper and forge the "sword embryo" he had absorbed qi into. Both Tuoba Pusa and Xu Fengnian had gained something, but Xu Fengnian clearly showed more signs of being able to strike later and achieve victory. After Tuoba Pusa's previous ambush failed, Xu Fengnian had pursued him for over two hundred li, until both of them successively ascended this magnificent snow-capped peak. In their series of life-or-death struggles, the two had developed a certain unspoken understanding. The retreating party would not deliberately hide all traces of their internal energy, always leaving a slight clue for the pursuer to follow. Tuoba Pusa had explicitly told Xu Fengnian that he would be waiting on this snow peak. As for when and where he would unleash a sudden killing blow, Xu Fengnian would have to rely on his skill and luck to face it head-on.

After shaving his stubble, Xu Fengnian returned the saber to its sheath. Before standing up, he grabbed a handful of ice and snow, put it in his mouth, and let it slowly melt and trickle down his throat. Xu Fengnian straightened his back, adjusted the sword on his back with one hand, placed the other on his saber hilt, and looked up. Suddenly, a large volume of snow began to tumble down, growing in scale. Clearly, Tuoba Pusa had created a massive avalanche through sheer human power. Xu Fengnian was certain Tuoba Pusa would be hidden within the avalanche. He closed his eyes, his four fingers gripping the saber hilt, his thumb pressing firmly against the narrow saber's guard, poised to push the blade from its sheath. The massive snow slid down the ridge from the mountaintop like a torrent, then split and flowed past Xu Fengnian on both sides. Xu Fengnian stood firm and unwavering like a pillar in the torrent.

An icy long spear, infused with abundant qi, struck towards Xu Fengnian's chest with the speed of a startled rainbow. Xu Fengnian pushed the narrow saber from its sheath, brushing past the spear and Tuoba Pusa, who held it, in a flash of lightning. A piece of flesh was torn from Xu Fengnian's shoulder, but a trail of crimson blood also marked the air beside Xu Fengnian. Xu Fengnian turned around. On the brink of death, he felt no lingering fear, only a slight regret. If Tuoba Pusa had chosen to settle the outcome at that very moment, Xu Fengnian was confident he could have, at the cost of a temporarily suppressed severe injury, severed an arm from his opponent. But Tuoba Pusa, as if by some strange impulse, abandoned this battlefield, preferring to let the "Qi Yun" saber in Xu Fengnian's hand cut a bloody gash across his back. After the avalanche, Xu Fengnian sat cross-legged on the ground, gasping for breath. He believed Tuoba Pusa would also be healing at the base of the mountain. Now, the two no longer vied for the speed of breathing. Instead, they sought a swift resolution, aiming to decide life or death in a single move. Xu Fengnian lay idly in the snow, gazing at the sky, and murmured, "Life is as lonely as a great avalanche."

A great river cut through the canyon, traversing this vast three-thousand-li mountain range, eventually flowing into the sea within Nanzhao territory. As Xu Fengnian drank by the riverbank, Tuoba Pusa struck his forehead with a single finger, sending him crashing into the riverbed. And of his ten flying swords from his sleeve, six were just an inch, or even half an inch, away—just that tiny distance—from piercing Tuoba Pusa's temples, eye sockets, and heart, respectively. Tuoba Pusa furiously punched the river surface, glaring intently at Xu Fengnian, who could not leap out of the water. He continuously struck the great river, trying to shock or drown Xu Fengnian at the bottom. Tuoba Pusa "walked" on the river surface for a full one hundred and twenty li. Eventually, Tuoba Pusa, who had forcibly reversed his internal energy, not only had his arms droop weakly but also had shocking blood flowing from his ears, nose, and mouth.

When Xu Fengnian floated to the surface like a corpse, Tuoba Pusa, whose arms were now immobile, could only stomp down with a foot. Knowing full well that he would step on a flying sword that Xu Fengnian controlled purely by thought, and that the sword would pierce his foot, Tuoba Pusa still did not hesitate. Xu Fengnian was kicked in the chest, once again pushed into the muddy riverbed. For some reason, Tuoba Pusa could neither find Xu Fengnian's corpse nor any residual traces of his internal energy. The young prince seemed to have vanished from the world.

Just as Tuoba Pusa, after an unsuccessful night searching along the river, was about to return to the Liangmang border, at daybreak, he saw the young man, who stubbornly refused to report to the King of Hell, slowly emerging from the water on the opposite bank. The longsword on his back was now nowhere to be seen. He held the saber's sheath in his mouth and gripped the saber with both hands. Neither crossed the river to attack. Instead, they walked slowly upstream. Xu Fengnian was recuperating, while Tuoba Pusa was increasing his chances of victory.

After nearly ten days of pursuit and battle, covering thousands of li, they finally met for their last fight on a dark, rainy night, a phenomenon extremely rare in the Western Regions. The collision was utterly simple, like a charge of Liangmang cavalry, without any fancy maneuvers. Xu Fengnian, holding the saber with both hands, stabbed Tuoba Pusa in the abdomen. As Tuoba Pusa retreated, he repeatedly punched Xu Fengnian on the forehead. Eventually, Xu Fengnian first loosened one hand on the saber, then gripped it with five fingers of one hand, then with two fingers, and finally, could only push the saber with one finger. When Xu Fengnian completely released the saber, Tuoba Pusa, with a through-and-through wound in his abdomen, fell heavily backward. Xu Fengnian, with disheveled hair, fell straight backward.

Tuoba Pusa lay in the mud, trembling as he reached out a hand. Unable to grasp the hilt, he directly gripped the blade and pulled it from his abdomen. He then propped himself up with his other elbow, managing to sit up with difficulty. Xu Fengnian remained motionless. Tuoba Pusa sighed in relief, chuckled, coughed up blood, and looked at the saber in his hand. "What a pity," he muttered. Tuoba Pusa suddenly looked up, dumbfounded, his face filled with bitterness. A sword suddenly flew through the air, tearing through the curtain of rain. It was precisely the "Roaring Sword"!

Only at this moment did Tuoba Pusa realize that the vanished sword had actually been patiently waiting for this precise moment, waiting for the critical juncture when he, Tuoba Pusa, seemed to have gained a narrow victory. To achieve this, timing and location had to be perfectly precise. To set up this trap, that person had to take an immense inherent risk, diverting his focus to "worry" about the "far-off" flying sword, guiding it *before* drawing his own saber to fight desperately, and then accurately killing his opponent, who absolutely had to be "right in front" of him, no more, no less, than one step away. It was said that the "Human Cat" of Liyang had died this way back then.

Tuoba Pusa sighed softly. If only he had been given half an incense stick's time to recover, he could have easily dealt with that young man. Tuoba Pusa felt no great regret, only some disappointment and a sense of frustration. Was there still time? There wasn't. He hadn't expected Tuoba Pusa to ever place his hopes on another. Tuoba Pusa closed his eyes.

Suddenly, an old man with a head full of frost-white hair stood in front of Tuoba Pusa, extending a single finger, which perfectly blocked the flying sword. The flying sword, unable to claim its target's head, seemed to wail. Utterly forlorn. Xu Fengnian, lying in the mud, maintained his last shred of consciousness, roughly guessing the man's identity: Li Mibi, the creator of Beimang's Spiderweb and the Shadow Prime Minister. The old man smiled faintly, "You should know that to stop Xu Yanbing and Tantai Ningjing and allow this old man to arrive here first, we paid the price of over sixty masters! The Jianghu of Beimang will no longer be worthy of the name." The old man's words seemed like polite, mild greetings, but his actions never paused. After neutralizing the flying sword, he surged through the heavy rain directly towards Xu Fengnian, laughing heartily, "Xu Fengnian, you can consider this a glorious defeat. Besides, you merely lost to fate. Xu Xiao will likely not resent you."

At this moment, Xu Fengnian only felt a splash of water near his ear. Unbeknownst to him, a zitan wood box landed heavily near him. A young woman, who had traveled six thousand li by sword to finally reach this place, didn't spare Xu Fengnian a glance. She merely said in a deep voice, "You are not allowed to die!"