Jiang Dali had once unleashed a powerful slash at Ling Hu Chong, yet Ling Hu Chong noticed the rain freely drifting through the air, unaffected by the overwhelming force of the blade.
Thus, inspired, Ling Hu Chong countered with a sword strike that resembled the autumn rain floating in the air, lingering and unceasing, strand by strand.
You may be strong, but I am like the gentle breeze sweeping over the hills; the bright moon illuminating the great river.
Consequently, Jiang Dali’s Powerful Slash was broken by Ling Hu Chong’s Breaking Blade Style.
Had Ling Hu Chong not countered after Jiang Dali’s strike, that one sword would have pierced Jiang Dali’s heart.
But because he had acted later, Jiang Dali’s saber had threatened his sword arm, so under mutual threat, Ling Hu Chong, unwilling to lose an arm, and Jiang Dali, not wanting to be pierced by a sword, both retracted their moves.
Slower to act, this was also a weakness of Ling Hu Chong.
Hence, even if Ling Hu Chong could reach the No Move Realm like Dongfang Bubai, he would still not be a match for Dongfang due to Dongfang’s faster attack speed.
This time, facing Feng Qingyang, Jiang Dali’s slash had already improved from his previous mistakes.
Where the Sword Light reached, it was like an unstoppable force, and with his whole body’s Qi Force poured into it, the Saber Qi densely covered a three-foot radius, forming an impenetrable wall of saber force rolling over everything in its path.
Such a slash, even autumn rain would find it hard to penetrate.
Even if Ling Hu Chong were present, trying to break through with a sword strike like the autumn rain again, he would be instantly shredded by the Sword Light.
However, Feng Qingyang was not Ling Hu Chong.
Facing such a terrifyingly powerful slash rolling toward him, his expression one of admiration, he swiftly flicked a branch in his hand.
It was like a painter’s brushstroke—bold sweeps, glancing blows, and flicks and slashes—a tree branch filled with True Qi colliding with the cutting Sword Light.
All this may seem slow, yet Feng Qingyang’s hand speed was shockingly fast.
It was a mere flicker, revealing eight curves of Sword Light that seemed slow but were swiftly passing by in front of Jiang Dali.
The lightning-fast eight sword strikes.
Each of the eight swords touched the blade that Jiang Dali had slashed out with.
The sound of the dense collisions almost merged into one.
Jiang Dali could only feel a violent vibration in his palm and intense pain in his tiger’s mouth, as the eight contradictory forces of impact almost caused him to drop his saber, and his tiger’s mouth to split open.
The variable strengths of Sword Intent were like "wind" that couldn’t be grasped or touched, unhindered by forceful momentum, difficult to restrain, without definite shape, effortlessly breaking through the strong momentum.
In that instant, wood chips suddenly flew in the air, and the branch in his hand snapped into several pieces, instantly pulverized into smithereens by the Saber Qi.
Feng Qingyang’s body was like a paper kite caught in a gale, retreating just in time to avoid several sharp cuts of Saber Qi.
Soil flew, and grass was torn asunder, leaving behind a swath of densely cut ravines as if what had swept past was not a mere few streaks of Sword Light, but a row of saber forests.
Feng Qingyang suddenly landed, stumbling back a few steps, his eyes filled with surprise and admiration as he stared at the frowning Jiang Dali holding the saber, saying, "To use strength to overwhelm technique, indeed a hero emerges from the youth. Village chief, your power has grown significantly since Chong’er mentioned you to me a while back. With such strength at such an age, you truly are terrifying and formidable.
I fear even Dongfang Bubai would not presume to take you lightly anymore."
Saying this, his elderly palms quivered, shaking off the splinters embedded in his skin.
Jiang Dali’s brow relaxed, and with a swish, he sheathed his saber, abandoning the idea of pressing further, and nodded, "I have indeed made a breakthrough, but still, I’m not comparable to Elder Feng’s exquisite skill. Who would’ve thought you’ve reached the legendary realm where one can wield a wooden sword as though it were heavy?
Had your strength not stalled, you could have bested me today with just a small branch.
But you are mistaken about one thing. Dongfang Bubai’s power has advanced further still, and I’m still no match for his mere embroidery needle."
Feng Qingyang’s body shook, his eyes filled with surprise and melancholy as he let out a long sigh, and said with his hands behind his back, "A white bull often roams amongst the clouds; without intent, both man and beast are the same. When the moonlight pierces the clouds, their shadows turn white, the clouds and the bright moon sway west and east... Formless form, intent without intent, within heartlessness lies the True Intent. Dongfang Bubai appears to have transcended to the level of a Heavenly Person.
Alas, for an old body like mine, even if I yearn for a breakthrough, it is now beyond reach..."
"Ahahahaha, hahahaha!!"
As soon as Feng Qingyang finished speaking, Jiang Dali burst into a maniacal laugh, holding his saber. His laughter was filled with an air of hubris and reckless tyranny, his entire being exuding a cold, rebellious arrogance. The sound reverberated against the surrounding mountain walls, causing Kou Zhong and others to change color.
Just then, from the southern rock face, a clear male voice called out.
Then, two figures, each holding a long rope, swung down toward the bottom of the mountain.
Jiang Dali scoffed and glanced sideways with disdain, paying little mind.
Feng Qingyang, however, frowned and asked curiously, "Village chief, why such hearty laughter?"
Jiang Dali smirked, "I laugh at you, Feng Qingyang, for appearing free-spirited and unfettered like a light cloud or a gentle breeze.
In reality, aged as you are, you’ve become hesitant and constrained, unable to fully unleash your power. I once proclaimed that in this vast Hua Mountain, the only one who caught my eye was you.
Now, I take back my words.
You, Feng Qingyang, may have been someone to reckon with a few years ago, but as you age, you seem unable to let go, no more than a common man at best, far from Dongfang Bubai’s caliber."
This statement was like thunder on a clear day.
Beside him, Kou Zhong and Duan Zhengchun were shocked, but after the shock, they secretly took pleasure, thinking to themselves that Jiang Dali was indeed powerful but sometimes too arrogant—by belittling the old grandmaster to such an extent, wouldn’t he be itching for a fight?