Devour: Can you also draw entries from clone projection worlds?

You've been with the Huashan Sect for nearly five years, but you haven't seen Yue Buqun take action that many times.

Most of the time, this leader of the Huashan Sect was a gentle and refined person, speaking softly and walking at a leisurely pace, more like a schoolteacher than a martial arts master.

But you know what's hidden beneath that exterior.

You found an opportunity to observe Yue Buqun practicing swordsmanship from afar.

That evening, as usual, you went to the back mountain for extra training. When you passed a bamboo forest, you heard the sound of sword wind cutting through the air.

You moved quietly, taking advantage of your unassuming appearance, and crept closer.

Through the gaps in the bamboo leaves, you can see Yue Buqun practicing his sword.

There are no fancy moves, no dazzling footwork; it's just the most basic Huashan swordplay, each move precise and disciplined, yet it will leave you sweating bullets.

Yue Buqun's sword strikes were not fast; in fact, they were quite slow.

But with each strike, the tip of the sword trembled slightly, a resonance produced when internal energy was poured into the blade.

Where the sword's edge passed, the bamboo leaves were silently sliced ​​in two, the cut as smooth as if it had been reflected in a mirror.

You silently compared them in your mind.

Your swordsmanship was honed from the basic swordsmanship of Mount Hua. It is fast, accurate, and ruthless, following the path of overwhelming force with sheer power.

However, Yue Buqun's swordsmanship has transcended the realm of "speed" and "accuracy," reaching a level of effortless mastery and complete control.

The moment your sword is thrust out, the blade hasn't even reached your target yet, but your inner strength has already arrived.

When you sheathe your sword, the internal energy within it leaves a faint trace in the air.

The gap between the two is too large; it's not just a difference of one or two levels, but a fundamental one.

You thought you'd reached the threshold of a top-tier master, but seeing Yue Buqun's move made you realize that even among top-tier masters, there's a vast chasm.

Yue Buqun sheathed his sword and stood there, his gaze sweeping over the direction where you were hiding.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn't move. The "ordinary" effect was still there. As long as you didn't make any big moves, Yue Buqun probably wouldn't notice an outer disciple.

As expected, Yue Buqun only glanced at it before turning and leaving.

You squatted there for another fifteen minutes, making sure Yue Buqun was far away, before slowly standing up. Your back was soaked with cold sweat.

Then you went to observe Ning Zhongze.

Ning Zhongze's cultivation level is slightly lower than Yue Buqun's, but it is still far above yours.

Her swordsmanship was powerful and fierce, and her sword strikes carried a righteous and awe-inspiring aura, completely different from Yue Buqun's gentle and reserved style.

After watching for a while, you roughly made a judgment: with your current strength, you could probably last about thirty moves against Ning Zhongze.

As for what happens after thirty moves? Need I say more? Defeat is inevitable.

As for Yue Buqun? He probably wouldn't even last ten moves.

This realization has made you much more aware that beating the game world isn't something that can be done overnight; you have to take it slowly.

However, observation also gives you some useful information.

Although Yue Buqun's swordsmanship is formidable, it has a clear weakness: your internal energy circulation is somewhat awkward, as if it is being restrained by something.

You thought about it for a long time and concluded that it must be due to the "Zixia Divine Skill".

This internal skill is the treasure of the Huashan Sect, possessing immense power, but it also places extremely high demands on the practitioner.

It's normal that Yue Buqun, after practicing for so many years, has never been able to reach the highest level, and his internal energy circulation is sometimes sluggish.

This slight hesitation may not be noticeable under normal circumstances, but it could be a fatal flaw in a life-or-death struggle.

Keep this in mind, and then continue your practice.

Days passed by, and your life rhythm remained almost unchanged: get up early to practice, follow the crowd during the day, practice extra in the evening, and go to sleep when it got dark.

The outer disciples lived uneventful lives, and no one noticed that an invisible person was growing stronger at an abnormal rate.

But you started consciously exchanging techniques with your fellow students.

You used to avoid sparring; you would dodge it or push it away if you could.

But things are different now. You need practical experience, you need to understand the fighting style of this world, and you need to know your own skill level.

Of course, you don't want to go and spar with Linghu Chong or Laudenuo.

You're looking for outer disciples like yourself. Their skill levels vary, and almost none of them can tell that you're throwing the game, regardless of winning or losing.

In your first sparring match, you deliberately lost.

It's not that we can't beat them, it's that we can't win.

An "ordinary" outer disciple, who had been in the sect for nearly five years without ever showing any outstanding abilities, suddenly defeated a senior disciple with more seniority than himself. Wasn't this clearly telling others "I have a problem"?

So you lost naturally. There was nothing wrong with your moves, it was just that you were "just a little bit off"—just a little bit off reaction time, a little bit off power, a little bit off luck.

After winning, your senior patted you on the shoulder and said, "Junior brother, you still need to practice more."

You nodded in agreement, your face displaying just the right amount of disappointment.

You lost again.

The third time, and they lost again.

But the way you lose is slowly changing. The first time you lost in just a few moves, the second time you lasted five moves, and the third time you lasted seven or eight moves.

Every time I make progress, but every time I'm "just a little short".

This kind of gradual progress goes unnoticed. Isn't it perfectly normal for an outer disciple to go from being instantly defeated to being able to withstand a few moves after several years of training?

Only you know what you truly gained from the competition.

Reaction speed refers to the speed of consciousness, not the speed of physical reaction.

When your opponent strikes, you no longer need to think about "which direction the sword is coming from and where I should dodge," your body will move on its own.

The formation of this instinct requires a great deal of practical experience, and in the world of Swordsman, you have plenty of time.

More importantly, you begin to understand the combat logic of this world.

Battles in the main world are fought with strength, speed, and genetic energy.

Whoever has the higher number wins.

But the world of Swordsman is different. Here, people's internal strength is not much different, so the moves become the key to determining the outcome.

A single misstep could mean the difference between life and death.

You spent a lot of time thinking about this. You broke down every move of the Huashan Basic Swordplay, thinking about each move one by one: Where is the weakness of this move? If the opponent uses this move to attack me, how should I break it? If I use this move to attack the opponent, how might you defend?

There are no standard answers to these questions, but the more you think about them, the deeper your understanding of swordsmanship will become.

Time flies.

In the blink of an eye, you've been projected back into the world of Swordsman for more than half a year.

Over the past six months, your cultivation has steadily increased, and you have firmly regained your position at the threshold of a first-rate master.

The sparring has also changed from "intentionally losing" to "going back and forth". Of course, you will still try not to win, but you no longer need to deliberately hold back, because the opponent's level is just so-so.

The ceiling for outer disciples is what it is; to get any higher, you'd have to find inner disciples to spar with, but there's no rush.