Supreme Being: The Sword of True Martial Arts

Three days later, the day of the outer sect competition arrived.

Before dawn, the martial arts arena was already packed with people. Three hundred outer disciples had gathered, and makeshift stands had been set up around them, where many inner disciples and elders sat. Lin Yan stood in the crowd, holding the unremarkable iron sword that was just like him, pondering how he would fight later.

You can't be too timid, but you also can't be too aggressive.

Being too timid will prevent you from entering the inner circle; being too aggressive will make you a target.

"Just getting into the top ten will be fine," he muttered to himself. "It would be best to lose one more game, so it doesn't seem like I'm such a monster."

A chubby disciple next to him heard him muttering and patted him on the shoulder with a sympathetic look: "Brother, don't be nervous. Is this your first time participating in a small competition? It's okay, participation is what matters."

Lin Yan glanced at him and smiled: "Yes, participation is the most important thing."

The drawing of lots began quickly.

Three hundred disciples were randomly selected to fight in pairs, with single-elimination format. Lin Yan casually drew a card and glanced at the number—seventy-eight.

His opponent soon emerged: number 123, a low-level disciple who had just completed the Qi cultivation stage, named Zhou Tong. He was ranked low in the outer sect, as thin as a bamboo pole, and his hand holding the sword was trembling.

When Lin Yan stepped onto the arena, Zhou Tong was already standing there, his face pale and sweating, looking even more nervous than Lin Yan, the transmigrator.

"The True Martial Sect Outer Disciples Competition, number 78 Lin Yan versus number 123 Zhou Tong, begin!"

No sooner had the referee finished speaking than Zhou Tong shouted and charged over.

Lin Yan almost burst out laughing.

This kid is too honest. He started by slashing with all his might. His swordsmanship was completely chaotic and full of flaws—his steps were unsteady, his center of gravity was unstable, his wrists were stiff, and his internal energy flow was intermittent. There were at least seven or eight fatal flaws.

Lin Yan didn't go all out.

Without even drawing his sheath, he lightly parried Zhou Tong's slash, then slapped the sheath against Zhou Tong's wrist.

With a "snap," Zhou Tong's hand went numb, and the iron sword slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground.

The entire process took less than three moves, and was clean and efficient.

"You flatter me." Lin Yan clasped his hands in a fist salute.

Zhou Tong was stunned for a moment, picked up the sword, and ran off the stage with a red face.

"Lin Yansheng!"

Sparse applause came from the stands; few people paid attention to this lopsided duel. Lin Yan didn't care either, sheathed his sword, and returned to the rest area.

Round one, round two, round three... Lin Yan fought his way through each round, winning within three to five moves each time, making it seem easy without being too shocking.

By the fourth round, their opponents were finally a force to be reckoned with.

One of the disciples who had mastered the Qi cultivation was named Liu Tie. He was ranked among the top fifty in the outer sect. He was tall and burly, and his swordsmanship was powerful and fierce, with each strike accompanied by a whooshing sound.

"Lin Yan, right?" Liu Tie gripped his sword, looked him up and down, and grinned. "I watched your previous matches. Your sword is fast, but your strength is too weak. You're destined to lose this match."

Lin Yan raised an eyebrow: "Oh?"

"start!"

Liu Tie shouted loudly, gripped his sword with both hands, and slashed down with all his might.

This sword strike was powerful and heavy, the wind whistling through the air, even stirring up the dust on the arena. If it were an ordinary disciple, even if they could block this sword strike, they would still be left with numb hands and feet from the impact.

But in Lin Yan's eyes, this sword strike had more flaws than a sieve.

The biggest problem with power-based swordsmanship is its slow adaptability. Liu Tie's sword strike was a straight line with no variation; if it was dodged, his entire right side would be open.

Lin Yan shifted his body slightly, his foot lightly moving, and Liu Tie's sword grazed the hem of his clothes, missing its mark. In the same instant, Lin Yan's iron sword struck out, precisely hitting the middle of Liu Tie's blade—the weakest point on the blade, and also the key node for the transfer of power.

"Ding!"

Liu Tie felt a numbness in his hand, and the sword trembled violently. The brute force seemed to have been severed by something. Before he could react, Lin Yan's scabbard was already pressed against his throat.

"You..." Liu Tie's eyes widened.

"Thank you for your kind offer," Lin Yan said with a smile, sheathing his sword and taking two steps back.

"Lin Yansheng! Advances to the semifinals!"

Finally, someone in the stands noticed the duel.

Several inner disciples whispered among themselves, their eyes filled with curiosity as they looked at Lin Yan.

"That outer disciple's swordsmanship is quite interesting," said an inner disciple. "Precise, extremely precise, every strike hits the opponent's most vulnerable spot."

"His sword sense is good, but his cultivation is average; he's only at the Great Perfection of Qi Accumulation." Another disciple said dismissively.

"He can defeat Liu Tie in three moves after accumulating Qi to its full potential? Although Liu Tie's talent is average, his power-based swordsmanship is quite famous among the outer sect disciples."

"It's luck."

"It doesn't seem like luck."

Lin Yan didn't hear these discussions, and even if he had, he wouldn't have cared. He was thinking about his opponent in the semifinals.

The semifinal draw results are in: Lin Yan will face Yao Qing.

Yao Qing was a disciple of the Yao family's secular branch.

The Yao family is one of the three major secular families of the Zhenwu Sect, wielding immense power with disciples spread throughout both the inner and outer sects. Although Yao Qing is not a direct descendant, he possesses considerable talent, his Qi cultivation is at its peak, and his swordsmanship is both subtle and cunning. Ranked among the top ten in the outer sect, he is one of the favorites to win this minor competition.

More importantly, the relationship between the secular branch and the Taoist lineage has always been very subtle.

On the surface, they appear amicable, but beneath the surface, they are constantly vying for power. The three major secular families—the Yao, Wang, and Li families—control most of the Zhenwu Sect's worldly businesses and are incredibly wealthy, but they are inferior to the Daoist lineage in terms of high-end combat strength. The Daoist lineage, led by Master Xuanyang, follows a pure path of cultivation and does not concern itself with worldly affairs. The two sides need each other yet also dislike each other.

As Yao Qing stepped into the arena, a cheer erupted from the stands. Several lay disciples dressed in brocade robes shouted his name loudly, full of vigor.

Yao Qing was dressed in an exquisite brocade robe, with a valuable jade pendant hanging at his waist, and a longsword in his hand that was clearly two levels higher than the standard iron sword of the outer sect. He stood on the arena, his chin slightly raised, his gaze sweeping over Lin Yan, a hint of disdain on his lips.

"You're Lin Yan?" His voice wasn't loud, but just loud enough for everyone around to hear.

Lin Yan paused for a moment, then smiled.

They're here to cause trouble.

"So what if I'm Lin Yan?" Lin Yan said unhurriedly, tilting his head to look Yao Qing up and down. "I can beat you to a pulp."

Yao Qing's face darkened: "You've got a sharp tongue. Let's see if you'll still be laughing later."

"start!"

Yao Qing was the first to draw his sword.

His swordsmanship was indeed a level above his previous opponents. It was subtle and cunning, with unpredictable sword techniques, always aiming at unexpected angles. Moreover, his internal energy circulation was unique, fluctuating between fast and slow, making it difficult to predict.

A sword thrust forward, its angle cunning, aimed directly at Lin Yan's left rib.

Lin Yan shifted his feet slightly, parrying with his iron sword still sheathed, precisely blocking the path of the sword tip.

"clang!"

Yao Qing's sword was deflected, and his expression changed slightly. He immediately changed his move, shifting his sword path and aiming straight for Lin Yan's throat from below.

Lin Yan leaned back, his scabbard touching the side of Yao Qing's sword to deflect the force, while the iron sword thrust out, aiming straight for Yao Qing's chest.

Yao Qing hurriedly parried with his sword, but Lin Yan's sword was too fast—no, not fast, but accurate. Every strike hit the most vulnerable spot in his swordplay, forcing him to change moves mid-strike, and his rhythm became increasingly chaotic.

"How is this possible!" Yao Qing's forehead was covered in sweat.

His cultivation level, having reached its peak, was a minor realm higher than Lin Yan's, yet he was constantly restrained in the fight, as if everything about him had been seen through. Every time he unleashed a sword strike, it was as if he had crashed into an invisible wall, unable to unleash its full power.

"Your swordsmanship is indeed quite good," Lin Yan commented while sparring, "but there's a problem with how you circulate your internal energy. Every time you change moves, your internal energy stagnates at your elbow for a fraction of a breath, which is why your sword moves aren't fluid."

Yao Qing's expression changed drastically: "How did you know?!"

"I could tell," Lin Yan chuckled. "There are at least seven flaws in your swordplay. For example, right now—"

He thrust out his sword, striking Yao Qing precisely at the moment Yao Qing changed his move.

Yao Qing felt the sword suddenly sink, his internal energy circulation abruptly stopped, and he staggered backward, almost falling off the stage.

"You lost." Lin Yan's sword sheath pressed against his chest, and he said with a smile, "Thank you for the concession."

Yao Qing's face turned ashen, and she gritted her teeth, saying, "You...you were just lucky!"

"Good luck is also part of strength." Lin Yan sheathed his sword, patted his shoulder, and lowered his voice, "Go back and practice your internal energy circulation properly, don't just focus on practicing sword moves. Your sword technique itself is fine, but you've practiced it incorrectly."

Yao Qing was trembling with anger, but she couldn't lash out in front of so many people. She could only glare at Lin Yan fiercely before turning and leaving the stage.

"Lin Yansheng! Advances to the finals!"

The stands erupted in uproar.

The Great Qi Accumulation stage defeated the Perfect Qi Accumulation stage, and it was an overwhelming victory—Lin Yan didn't even use his full strength, and didn't even draw his sword.

"This Lin Yan is quite interesting." On the platform, a middle-aged Taoist priest in a blue robe nodded slightly. He was Su Mochen, an inner sect elder, a first-level outer realm cultivator, and the junior disciple of the sect leader, Xuan Yang Zhenren. He held a high position in the Zhenwu Sect.

"Is Senior Uncle Su interested in him?" asked an inner disciple nearby.

"Let's see." Su Mochen smiled. "The opponent in the finals is not weak."

The opponent in the final is indeed not weak.

Zhang Ce.

Lin Yan had noticed this person long ago. During their last sword practice, Zhang Ce saw through his hidden strength at a glance; his eyes were incredibly sharp. Moreover, Zhang Ce's cultivation was at the peak of Qi Accumulation, but unlike Yao Qing's flashy style, Zhang Ce's foundation was very solid, his true Qi was abundant, and his swordsmanship was simple and unadorned, yet every strike was perfectly timed. He was a truly formidable opponent.

The two stepped onto the ring and stood facing each other.

Zhang Ce was wearing a faded gray outer disciple's robe. His face was ordinary and his figure was not outstanding, but his eyes were exceptionally bright, like two cold stars, making him someone not to be underestimated.

"Senior Brother Lin, please." Zhang Ce clasped his hands in a fist salute, his tone indifferent.

"Senior Brother Zhang, please." Lin Yan returned the greeting.

"Final Match: Lin Yan vs. Zhang Ce, Begin!"

The two drew their swords simultaneously.

Zhang Ce's swordsmanship was very simple, based on the fundamental sword techniques of Zhenwu. There were no fancy variations, but each strike was extremely precise, as if measured with a ruler. The angle, force, and speed were all just right, without a single superfluous movement.

"Such a solid foundation," Lin Yan thought to himself. Of all the disciples he had seen in the outer sect, Zhang Ce had the most solid foundation, without a doubt. This person was clearly the kind of person whose talent wasn't top-notch, but who had mastered the basics through sheer perseverance.

A sword thrust came, nothing special.

Lin Yan dodged to the side, then thrust his iron sword forward, aiming directly for the point where Zhang Ce's sword strike connected. Based on previous experience, this position was his opponent's weakness, and a single strike could disrupt his rhythm.

But Zhang Ce remained unfazed, subtly adjusting his sword technique to easily deflect the attack.

"Huh?" Lin Yan was taken aback.

His sword strike was clearly aimed at an opening, but Zhang Ce adjusted faster than he expected, patching up the gap before his sword even arrived.

"Your swordsmanship is very strong," Zhang Ce said as he fought. "You can see the shortcomings in my sword moves, but I can also see the intentions behind your sword moves."

"That's amazing?" Lin Yan became interested.

People like Zhang Ce rely on their combat intuition honed through countless real battles. They don't have any special abilities or innate talents, but they are still difficult to deal with.

Lin Yan increased the speed of his sword strikes, each strike aimed at the slightest flaw in Zhang Ce's swordsmanship. Zhang Ce deflected them all, and although it was difficult, he managed to block them all.

The two exchanged blows on the arena, their swords flashing, and fought for over fifty moves without a clear victor.

There was a lot of discussion in the stands.

"Lin Yan's swordsmanship is truly precise; every strike hits Zhang Ce in his most vulnerable spot."

"Zhang Ce is no slouch either; his foundation is too solid, and he managed to withstand it."

"Interesting, two outer disciples can actually perform at this level."

Su Mochen watched with great interest, nodding occasionally.

On the ring, Lin Yan grew increasingly excited as the fight progressed. He hadn't encountered an opponent who could make him take the fight even slightly seriously in a long time—although he still wasn't using his full strength, at least it wasn't as overwhelming as before.

"Your swordsmanship is very strong, but you have a problem," Zhang Ce suddenly said.

"What?"

"You rely too much on your intuition." Zhang Ce parried Lin Yan's attack with his sword. "Your sword techniques are all designed to exploit your opponent's weaknesses, but have you noticed the weaknesses in your own sword techniques?"

Lin Yan was taken aback.

He subconsciously used his sword sense to perceive his own sword moves—sure enough, there were several subtle flaws. Although they weren't large, these flaws could be fatal if he encountered a true master.

"Thanks for the reminder," Lin Yan said earnestly, "but we still need to win this match."

He no longer held back, channeling his true energy into the sword, instantly increasing his sword speed by 30%.

Zhang Ce felt immense pressure, and sweat beaded on his forehead, but he gritted his teeth and persevered, maintaining his form perfectly.

The two exchanged more than thirty more blows, but still could not gain the upper hand.

Finally, the referee stopped the match: "A tie! Both players are tied for first place and both qualify for the inner sect!"

Lin Yan sheathed his sword and clasped his hands in a fist salute to Zhang Ce: "Senior Brother Zhang, you're amazing."

Zhang Ce clasped his hands in a fist salute and wiped the sweat from his forehead: "I have never seen your swordsmanship before. It is not the style of the Zhenwu School, but it is derived from the basic sword techniques of Zhenwu."

"I just figured it out myself," Lin Yan said with a smile.

"Well thought out." Zhang Ce rarely showed a smile. "We'll have another chance to spar."

"I'm available anytime."

The two walked off the stage side by side, and enthusiastic applause rang out from the stands.

This was the first time in many years that the outer sect competition had ended in a draw, and both players' performances far exceeded those of ordinary outer sect disciples, even attracting the attention of several inner sect elders.

"That Lin Yan's swordsmanship is unbelievably precise," an elder said.

"His sword sense is extremely strong; he's a natural-born swordsman," another elder said. "It's a pity his cultivation level is a bit low; he's only at the Great Perfection of Qi Accumulation."

"Cultivation can be developed gradually, but talent is something that cannot be sought after."

"Junior Brother Su seems interested in him?"

Su Mochen smiled but didn't say anything.

Lin Yan paid no attention to these discussions; he was thinking about something else entirely—what to do after entering the inner sect.

"I need to find a reliable master," he thought to himself. "Ideally, someone with high cultivation, a good temper, and who won't torment his disciples. The sect leader, Master Xuan Yang, would be best, but he hasn't taken on any disciples in a long time. The inner sect elders are also good..."

Just then, a voice came from behind: "Lin Yan".

Lin Yan turned his head and saw a middle-aged Taoist priest in a blue robe standing not far away. He had a thin face, a refined demeanor, and gentle yet profound eyes. He stood with his hands behind his back, the wind ruffling the hem of his robe, exuding an indescribable composure.

"Uncle Su... Uncle Su?" Lin Yan found the person's identity in his memory. Su Mochen, the junior disciple of the sect leader Xuan Yang Zhenren, is at the first level of the Outer Realm. He has an excellent reputation among the inner sect members. He is low-key and humble, and never puts on airs.

"Come with me." Su Mochen said, then turned and left, his tone as indifferent as if he were saying, "The weather is nice today."

Lin Yan's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly followed.

The two walked out of the training ground one after the other, passed through several stone paths, and arrived at a secluded cliff on the back mountain. From here, they could see the sea of ​​clouds surging, the mountains stretching endlessly, and several peaks appearing and disappearing in the mist, like a traditional Chinese ink painting.

Su Mochen stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the distant sea of ​​clouds. After a moment of silence, he spoke:

"Who taught you your swordsmanship?"

"No one taught me, I figured it out myself," Lin Yan answered honestly.

"You figured this out yourself?" Su Mochen turned to look at him, his eyes now scrutinizing him. "Your swordsmanship has the foundation of the 'True Martial Qi Cultivation Technique,' but the path of true qi circulation is different from the original; it's been optimized. Did you modify it yourself?"

Lin Yan was startled, not expecting Su Mochen to have such a sharp eye, seeing through it at a glance.

"Yes," he admitted reluctantly, his heart pounding. Modifying cultivation techniques without permission was a major taboo in the sect, punishable by reprimand at best, and expulsion from the sect at worst.

Su Mochen remained silent for a long time.

A mountain breeze blows, the sea of ​​clouds surges, and a few birds fly by in the distance.

Then he laughed.

It wasn't the kind of polite laugh, but a laugh that was genuinely funny.

"Interesting," he said. "I've taken in seven disciples on a nominal basis; you're the eighth. Come to the inner sect tomorrow to perform the apprenticeship ceremony."

After saying that, he turned and left, his clothes fluttering, his steps unhurried, as if he had done something insignificant.

Lin Yan stood alone on the cliff, looking completely bewildered.

"Wait a minute..." he realized, "They're already accepting apprentices? No assessment? No test of character? No need—"

"No need." Su Mochen's voice drifted from afar, tinged with a smile. "I have a good eye for people."

Lin Yan was stunned for a long time, then suddenly laughed.

"This master is quite interesting."

The next day, Lin Yan performed the apprenticeship ceremony at Su Mochen's residence in the inner sect, officially becoming Su Mochen's disciple and the grand-disciple of the sect leader, Xuan Yang Zhenren.

The apprenticeship ceremony was very simple: a cup of tea, three bows, and that was it.

Su Mochen sat at the head of the table, took a sip of tea, and said, "From today onwards, you are my disciple, Su Mochen's disciple. I don't like idle talk, so there are only three rules: First, you are not allowed to betray your master and ancestors; second, you are not allowed to kill your fellow disciples; third, you are not allowed to commit any evil deeds. Can you abide by these rules?"

"I can do it." Lin Yan replied crisply.

"Alright." Su Mochen took out a jade pendant and a handwritten copy from his sleeve and handed them to Lin Yan. "This protective jade pendant can block a fatal attack at a critical moment. The first three levels of the True Martial Seven Intercepts Scripture are handwritten by me and are a hundred times better than those lousy outer sect techniques. Practice them well."

Lin Yan accepted the jade pendant and the cultivation manual, feeling a warm glow in his heart. Although this master didn't talk much, he was generous, giving her the core cultivation manual and a life-saving weapon right away.

"Oh, right," Su Mochen added, "You are the sect leader's grand-disciple, so your status in the True Martial Sect is not low. But being a nominal disciple is only temporary. Once you break through to the Enlightenment stage, I will formally accept you as my personal disciple."

"Thank you, Master!"

Lin Yan returned to his residence with the cultivation manual in his arms and eagerly opened the "True Martial Seven Intercepts Scripture".

The first level: Subtle Interception of Qi. This refers to how to precisely control one's true qi, minimizing its loss while simultaneously enhancing its explosive power.

"This is practically tailor-made for me," Lin Yan said, her eyes shining.

His previously optimized Qi circulation path perfectly aligns with the core concept of "intercepting Qi into the subtle." With this technique, his cultivation efficiency can at least double.

More importantly, this cultivation method directly targets the Dharma body and is a closely guarded secret of the True Martial Sect's lineage. Su Mochen simply gave it to him without even testing him, a trust that weighed heavily on Lin Yan's heart.

He sat down cross-legged and began to circulate his true qi according to the first level of the True Martial Seven Intercepts Scripture.

The already optimized energy pathways become even purer under the "Intercepting Energy into Subtlety" method. Energy surges through the meridians, and every strand is precisely controlled without any waste.

"Efficiency has increased by another 30%." Lin Yan nodded in satisfaction. "At this rate, the enlightenment period is just around the corner."

He stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the continuous palaces inside the gate and the distant mountain peaks shrouded in mist, a slight smile playing on his lips.

He won first place in the outer sect competition, became a disciple of Su Mochen, and obtained the "True Martial Seven-Section Scripture".

Next comes the journey down the mountain for training, the enlightenment stage, and then—

The cycle of rebirth in the six realms.

Lin Yan took a deep breath, her eyes reflecting the sunset outside the window.