Martial Arts Secret Realm: Only I Can Know the Plot?

"Where do you intend to lead the old monk?"

Sun Fan didn't answer, but simply gripped the sword hilt tighter. Blood was still flowing from his tiger's mouth, and blood was seeping from the wound on his left arm, but his breathing was still relatively steady.

Blood Blade Ancestor's gaze passed over Sun Fan and glanced in the direction behind him. There lay a vast expanse of ice, white and gleaming blindingly in the sunlight.

Ice lake.

The ice that forms in winter varies in thickness. In some places, the ice is thick enough to run a horse; in others, it's as thin as paper and will break if you step on it.

"The Frozen Lake," said Blood Saber Ancestor, "you want to lure the old monk to the Frozen Lake."

Sun Fan's pupils contracted slightly.

"The old monk has lived on the snow-capped mountains for decades. He knows that frozen lake better than you do." Blood Blade Ancestor shook his head. "He knows which ice is thick and which is thin with his eyes closed. You want him to break the ice and fall in? Dream on."

He gripped the ring knife tightly and took a step forward.

"The old monk isn't going."

Before he finished speaking, his men had already pounced on him.

This time, he didn't use a knife.

With a slap of his left hand, he aimed straight for Sun Fan's chest.

The palm strike was too fast; Sun Fan didn't have time to block it. He could only turn to the side to avoid the front of the palm, but the force of the strike still grazed his left shoulder.

bang——

Sun Fan was sent flying, crashing onto the snow and sliding several meters before his back hit a rock and he came to a stop.

A sweet taste rose in my chest, and a mouthful of blood surged into my throat.

He swallowed it back.

A sharp pain shot through his left shoulder—not a fracture, but a muscle strain. Although Blood Saber Ancestor's palm strike hadn't landed squarely, the internal force contained within the palm wind was enough to injure him.

The internal energy of the Divine Illumination Scripture surged in his chest, and a warm current flowed towards the wound on his left shoulder, relieving the pain slightly. But as that warm current flowed through his heart meridian, it suddenly paused—the bloodshot color in his eyes seemed to have intensified.

Heart demon.

When the body is at its weakest, inner demons are most likely to turn against you.

Sun Fan gritted his teeth, suppressed the surging blood pressure, and stood up, supporting himself with his sword.

Blood Blade Ancestor stood a few feet away, looking at him with a hint of surprise in his eyes.

"You can still stand up?" He shook his head. "Your internal strength is quite interesting. You were struck by the old monk's palm, yet you can still move."

He took two steps forward.

"But you can't hold on much longer."

Sun Fan knew.

His internal energy had been mostly depleted, he could barely lift his left arm, blood was flowing uncontrollably from the tiger's mouth, and the warm current in his chest was growing weaker and weaker.

If the fight continues, he won't last more than five moves.

But he did not back down.

He turned around and ran towards the frozen lake.

It wasn't an escape, it was a lure.

Blood Blade Ancestor was right; his familiarity with this frozen lake far surpassed Sun Fan's. He knew exactly where the ice was thick and thin, and could walk through it with his eyes closed.

But there was one thing that Blood Blade Ancestor didn't know.

When Sun Fan was in the present world, he studied geology. He knew the structure of ice layers, the effect of temperature changes on ice thickness, and the role of water flow velocity in ice distribution.

He had already explored this frozen lake the day before yesterday.

He spent an entire day walking through every corner of the frozen lake, tapping the ice surface with stones and listening to the sound to judge the thickness of the ice layer.

He memorized where the ice was thick, where it was as thin as paper, where there were undercurrents beneath the ice, and where cracks had appeared in the ice.

Blood Blade Ancestor relied on experience.

He relied on science.

When faced with absolutely accurate data, decades of experience may not be reliable.

As expected, the Blood Blade Ancestor caught up with them.

He said he wouldn't go, but when he saw Sun Fan running towards the frozen lake, he followed. It wasn't because he was careless, but because he realized something—Sun Fan's lightness skill was very poor.

It's not just bad, it's the kind of bad that shows absolutely no practice.

Someone with poor agility running on ice is like a rabbit with a stone tied to its foot. He can catch up to them at any time and kill them with a single blow.

Blood Blade Ancestor felt he had Sun Fan completely under his control.

When he stepped onto the ice, his steps were light, each step placed in a pre-selected spot. Decades of experience taught him where the ice was thick and thin, where he could step and where he couldn't.

His judgment was correct.

But he overlooked one thing—this year's weather was colder than usual, and the ice was thicker. However, thicker areas aren't necessarily more solid. This is because there are undercurrents beneath the ice, which erode the bottom of the ice layer, thinning it. From above, the ice appears thick, but in reality, the middle is hollow.

This type of ice layer cannot be detected by experience.

But science can tell.

Sun Fan ran on the ice, his steps erratic, as if he were running in a panic. His lightness skill was indeed very poor; he stumbled along, almost falling several times.

Blood Saber Ancestor chased after him, getting closer and closer. He made a point of observing where Sun Fan had gone before he left.

Three zhang (approximately 10 meters).

Two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters).

One zhang (approximately 3.3 meters).

Blood Saber Ancestor raised his ring knife, preparing to deliver the final blow to Sun Fan.

Just then, Sun Fan's right foot stepped onto a piece of ice.

The ice surface looked very solid, and its color was not much different from the surrounding ice surface.

But Sun Fan knew that beneath that ice surface lay a cavity carved out by an undercurrent.

He stomped down with all his might.

click-

Blood Saber Ancestor followed closely behind, very close indeed.

He had already raised the blood-stained knife in his hand.

He believed that one cut would be enough to end this annoying fly.

But at this very moment when victory was closest...

The blood-stained blade in his hand could no longer be swung.

The ice beneath his feet shattered completely.

He stepped into the icy lake water.

As a result, the body loses its balance.

Sun Fan, who had been on the run, seized the fleeting opportunity.

A backhand sword strike!

The speed of that sword strike was something he had never seen before.

The sharpness of that sword strike was so dazzling.

The sword tip pierced into the chest of the Blood Blade Ancestor.

It pierced the monk's robe, the skin, the muscles, and the gap between the ribs, going straight into the heart.

Blood Blade Ancestor lowered his head, looking at the sword stuck in his chest, then raised his head to look at Sun Fan.

There was no fear or anger in his eyes, only an indescribable complexity.

"What's the name of this sword strike?"

Sun Fan's hands were trembling, and blood from his tiger's mouth dripped down the hilt of the sword onto the ice. His face was as white as paper, but the blood in his eyes was so intense it seemed about to spill out.

"A deadly sword strike."

Blood Saber Ancestor read the name aloud and then suddenly laughed.

"A good name," he said. "A good sword."

His body began to tremble, not from pain, but because the side effects of the Blood Burning Technique were kicking in. The flush on his skin quickly faded, replaced by a ashen, deathly color. It was as if something was draining the blood from his veins; his body was rapidly withering away.

Blood Blade Ancestor looked down at the sword in his chest and reached out to grasp the blade.

The blade cut his palm, and blood flowed out, but he did not let go.

"The old monk has killed countless people in his life, and he never thought about how he would die." His voice grew softer and softer, as soft as the wind. "To die by this sword is... not unjust."

He looked into Sun Fan's eyes, a slight smile playing on his lips.