Chapter Six: Combat Training

Looking at the middle-aged man across from him, steady as a mountain, Mu Rongxun did not hesitate.

“What should I do?” he asked.

His straightforward style made the middle-aged man nod in approval. A swordsman is always unwavering, and he appreciated such decisiveness.

“Your foundation already surpasses that of many people—even mine, perhaps. But firstly, your weapon is limited, and secondly, you have no combat experience.”

“So what should I do?” Mu Rongxun nodded. When he first possessed only basic sword skills, he could wield a short sword. Now, as his blade skills had advanced, the short sword in his hand felt increasingly awkward.

“There’s nothing to be done about your weapon, but as for combat experience, it’s actually quite simple: fight!” the middle-aged man said bluntly.

Experience is nothing but skill gained through practice. What other way is there? Only through life-and-death struggles, accumulating knowledge in battle after battle.

Outside, a single defeat could mean death—but here, things were different.

“Don’t treat your weapon as merely a tool for killing!” The middle-aged man’s gaze was sharp and discerning.

He was well aware of the murderous aura surrounding Mu Rongxun. Such a person was born to be a swordsman, and now that he’d encountered him, the man naturally hoped to draw him into the ranks of true swordsmen, so he broke his usual silence and offered guidance.

“A weapon is an extension of your body. Don’t believe in those tales of unity between man and sword, or man and blade—you’re not yet at that level. Your priority now should be to become familiar with your weapon, so you can wield it as easily as moving your own arm.”

These were words of wisdom from the older generation. Without guidance, one might take many wrong turns, or even stray so far as to never understand.

They say a single sentence from a true master is worth more than volumes of books. Sometimes, the crucial insight is just a few words—but without someone to teach you, you may never grasp it.

The middle-aged man admired Mu Rongxun, seeing in him a natural-born swordsman, someone worth cultivating, so he offered his insights. Otherwise, even with his own disciples, he would have held back.

Training with blades or swords is essentially the same: diligent practice. If not for the existence of the Magic Tower, there would be no shortcuts at all.

Through daily, relentless training, the body forms muscle memory, and once skill is honed, the weapon naturally becomes an extension of oneself.

Mu Rongxun should not have faced such issues, but firstly, his weapon was ill-suited, and secondly, this knowledge had not been acquired through his own hard work but by other means, so it hadn’t yet seeped into his bones.

Yet, he already possessed the foundation, so he didn’t need to start from scratch as others did.

Skipping the basic stage, he had already surpassed many. Now, he only needed to enrich his combat experience—while also solving his inability to fully control his strength.

Just now, his rapid improvement meant he couldn’t fully master his body’s power, so the level 10 mastery of blade technique had not been completely realized.

Such imbalance appeared as glaring weaknesses to the middle-aged man.

“If you wish to gain combat experience, then come fight me! Do so with the resolve to die!” he declared.

His face was unremarkable, yet standing there with his long blade, he was like a mountain—doing nothing, yet exerting immense pressure on Mu Rongxun.

For the first time, the middle-aged man drew his blade from his side—a straight blade about a meter in length, with a flat back, single-edged, and only a slight curve at the tip.

“This blade is 105.1 centimeters in total length, with a blade length of 73.2 centimeters, a width of 3.2 centimeters, a thickness of 0.85 centimeters, and a hilt of 26.9 centimeters! Its name is Blood Slaughter, and it has accompanied me through many years of wandering the martial world.”

He slowly brushed his hand over the blade.

“Oh, I mean centimeters as you understand them,” he added.

Mu Rongxun nodded, brandished his sword, and charged at the middle-aged man.

The sound of weapons clashing rang out.

“You’re dead!” the middle-aged man said, after a slash to the throat. Mu Rongxun collapsed to the ground.

Too fast!

With just a casual movement, the middle-aged man parried the short sword and then beheaded him.

Just as he had promised: take his life within three moves!

A second later, Mu Rongxun stood again, unharmed.

“Pay attention to my movements!” the middle-aged man reminded, rushing towards him.

Mu Rongxun instinctively blocked, and after his short sword was knocked aside, he leaned back to dodge the incoming slash. Rolling across the ground, he tried to stand, but was again beheaded.

“You’re making progress!” the middle-aged man praised, attacking again without giving any time to react.

In such intense combat, Mu Rongxun was killed again and again, only to reappear each time.

He watched the man’s movements closely, absorbing everything like a sponge.

Under this relentless pressure, a single mistake meant death, so his mind was sharply focused. His absorption and integration of blade techniques was rapid, and his control over his strength grew stronger.

Eventually, he could trade blows with the middle-aged man, no longer being instantly slain at the first exchange.

As his strength became manageable and his blade technique fully integrated, the power of level 10 mastery began to shine. The middle-aged man could no longer dominate as he did at first.

Yet, just as their battle reached its peak, the Magic Tower’s prompt appeared unexpectedly.

[Phantom existence time entering countdown. Summon a new phantom or extend current phantom existence?]

Mu Rongxun had no time to think, immediately choosing to extend the existence.

Now was the moment of rapid improvement; he couldn’t afford distractions.

Once his control improved, relying on his strength and skill advantages, he began to press the middle-aged man.

Yet, the man’s rich combat experience allowed him to counterattack even from a disadvantage, sometimes reversing the outcome at the very moment Mu Rongxun believed himself doomed—always surprising him.

Still, the balance of power was unequal. As one side remained unchanged while the other grew stronger, their victories and defeats kept shifting.

From ten to zero, to nine to one, to eight to two…

Finally, it became six to four, with Mu Rongxun holding the six.

Though he had almost fully integrated his strength, he still could not completely overwhelm the middle-aged man.

With each bout, their struggle lasted longer, and the outcome was increasingly difficult to determine.

“Farewell!” the middle-aged man said, fading away before Mu Rongxun’s eyes as time slipped away.

Mu Rongxun felt reluctant to let go.

Training here—without death, without fatigue—had allowed him to progress at an astonishing pace. But now, with only a few dozen Paradise Coins left, he could not afford to extend the time again.

Though he had spent several hundred coins, the improvement in his strength was immense.

Without even needing to test himself, he knew that now, he could slay his former self with a single strike.