Gao Wu: Starting with playing the Flying Bat Ke Zhen'e

On the second day of playing the role of "Blood Saber Ancestor", in the martial arts arena of Prince Duan's mansion.

At this moment, the center of the martial arts arena, which covers an area large enough to accommodate 10,000 people and is nearly 100 feet long and wide, is nearly half empty. Only two figures remain there, but they are facing each other. One is a bloody shadow that flashes and appears intermittently, while the other roars fiercely like a tiger, deafeningly loud.

Meanwhile, the sound of metal clashing could be heard from time to time, like thunder, deafening.

The exchange lasted only a short while before Blood Shadow overwhelmed Tiger Roar, and in the next instant, Tang Luo's blood-red blade was positioned across Qin Chen's shoulder.

Qin Chen then raised his hand, took the blood-stained blade from his shoulder, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and looked up at the old monk holding the blade with a puzzled expression: "Why is it that although my skills are clearly no worse, and my physical strength is even superior to yours, you are able to win faster and faster in the fight?"

Qin Chen was puzzled. He and the Blood Saber Monk had been practicing for seven hours straight since last night. Of course, he had been wearing the 'Jade Shackles' to limit his power and had not used his full strength.

However, even so, his raw strength was still greater than his opponent's. After all, the physical body is unrestricted. Leaving aside strength, his ability to withstand blows alone was much stronger than his opponent's.

However, in the fourteen matches so far, he has not won a single one, and even those that lasted for half an hour at the beginning have now stopped lasting more than half an hour.

He is improving, and so is his opponent. He is getting familiar with the Blood Saber Monk's moves and tricks, and the Blood Saber Monk is getting familiar with him as well. Moreover, this speed is much faster than his.

Upon hearing this, Tang Luo smiled slightly, sheathed his sword, and took the initiative to approach to begin the post-battle debriefing:

"Your Highness is exceptionally talented and resilient. As for your skills, I am not familiar with this 'White Tiger Slaying Blade' and cannot offer much comment."

There is only one point I can perhaps address.

"Oh? Which point?" Qin Chen pulled out two stools from somewhere and gestured for Tang Luo to sit down and chat.

Tang Luo sat down and, without any hesitation, said directly, "The young master's thinking is somewhat limited."

We fought for fourteen rounds, and you were always thinking about how to break my moves, how to improve your own moves, and how to make your moves more perfect.

Is that right? Yes, but not entirely. You still need to try to understand me, try to understand my fighting style, try to guess, try to think about what I will do, and then set traps for the next battle based on my actions.

Why did I win by a narrow margin the first time, but win faster and faster as the game progressed?

Because I already know what you're going to do. I've already guessed what your next move will be, and where you'll attack from—your heart or your throat. I know it all clearly.

The thoughts in your mind are like lines on the palm of my hand, clearly and distinctly displayed before my eyes.

Therefore, unless you once again overcome all obstacles with sheer force, you cannot defeat me.

Upon hearing this, Qin Chen was startled, and then said with a hint of regret, "Master Blood Blade, if it weren't for cultivating this technique, you would have been able to reach the Innate Realm."

Qin Chen was not lying. Tang Luo's explanation was simple: understand your opponent through battle and use that understanding to design battle traps to lure them in. But that was almost impossible, at least for him.

People are multifaceted and complex. Even a notorious thief who commits numerous evils may have tenderness for his family. It is very difficult to fully understand a person, even just in terms of fighting.

Combat itself is already a mentally exhausting activity. It requires not only physical coordination but also intense mental activity to execute clear moves and maintain one's own discipline. How could one possibly have the mind to analyze the opponent's combat strategy or even devise a counter-strategy during intense combat?

It's either overwhelming strength or extraordinary talent.

Want to learn? No way!

With these thoughts in mind, his gaze toward Tang Luo became increasingly regretful.

This Blood Saber Monk was truly born in the wrong place.

With that wise and virtuous ruler in charge, Ye Kingdom was safe internally, but externally, the situation was not so good. The four kingdoms of Nanli and Pingyang were locked in a war, which dragged Ye Kingdom into a quagmire of conflict. The war, which has lasted for nearly a hundred years, has not yet ended.

If this Blood Saber Monk had appeared in Nanli City instead of Yunjing County, which is the furthest from the battlefield, he would have achieved far greater success than he does now.

He is too suited for the battlefield. Forged in blood and fire, as long as he survives, his future will be limitless.

He might even become an even more dazzling "General Ming"!

Thinking of this, Qin Chen sighed inwardly, but said nothing on the surface.

The Blood Saber Monk is too old. No matter how talented he is, he is already past his prime and has no future. Besides, it would only add to the sorrow.

For some reason, even though I was resting, a feeling of unprecedented fatigue welled up inside me as my body relaxed.

While internal energy can restore energy, it is still less effective than sleep. Furthermore, he has plenty of time now and isn't as rushed as before. Therefore, Qin Chen looked at Tang Luo and asked, "Master, would you like to rest for a while before going to the library, or would you like to go now?"

"Now." Upon hearing this, Tang Luo stood up, looking radiant.

Qin Chen had nowhere left to advance, so he wanted to rest and recover his energy without using his internal energy.

Tang Luoke is different. Right now, he's like a dried-up sponge, just waiting for the nourishment of knowledge. A little damage is nothing to worry about.

Qin Chen took out an ancient, bronze-colored token from his pocket and tossed it to Tang Luo: "This is the pass to the library. Just show this token when you arrive."

Immediately, he summoned a servant and instructed him to lead Tang Luo to the right place.

Tang Luo took the token and followed the servant as he left the training ground. Seeing the group of old and young people practicing and training at the edge of the training ground, he felt a sense of emotion.

Half a month ago, when he first transmigrated here, his greatest fear was of the few 'young masters' who were cultivating here. These 'young masters' believed from the bottom of their hearts that they were not the same species as the servants, and that the servants were slaves, and that they would fight them to the death without any problem.

And that is indeed the case.

But at this moment, few people dared to look him in the eye on Tang Luo's path, and those few who did were filled with a certain awe.

Even in the Prince Duan's mansion, a Spirit Seed Realm expert is not considered an ordinary opponent.

Tang Luo shook his head, feeling as if he had been transported to another world.

The Prince Duan's mansion was very large, but this servant seemed to have some cultivation experience, as he was quite fast and knew the way well. He quickly led Tang Luo to an ancient pavilion.

This pavilion was much more magnificent than the Wang family's, and its defenses were much tighter. On each side, there were two huge, vicious dogs, each taller than a person, baring their teeth. In the short time it took Tang Luo to look up, he saw two teams of servants passing by, and judging from their heartbeats, the leaders had most likely already reached the Divine Strength level.

If he hadn't had the bronze token, he probably would have been stopped right away.

For some reason, Tang Luo felt a vague, inexplicable fear of the pavilion in front of him, as if a man-eating beast was staring intently at him.