Master: This Villainous Disciple Is Not The Holy Child

‘Were all ancient emperors this strong in their youth?’

Just as Chu Xiu was contemplating how to defeat the white-clad female cultivator, she moved.

With a single step, she vanished.

And reappeared right in front of him.

So fast…

She raised her delicate hand and pushed towards his chest.

Chu Xiu, his expression unchanged, planted his feet firmly into the ground, his arms bulging with muscle. Golden saint blood surged through his veins, coiling around him like a primordial dragon, its power bolstering his defense. He met her palm with his own, their energies colliding.

‘Come at me! Even if you’re an ancient emperor, you’ll fall before me today!’

Their palms met.

A shockwave rippled outwards, the force of the impact sending Chu Xiu stumbling back eight meters, the ground beneath his feet cracking and splitting, a deep furrow marking his retreat.

His arm went numb, the bones creaking and groaning, threatening to shatter.

In a flash, the white-clad cultivator was upon him again, her movements fluid and effortless. She aimed a punch at his chest.

Chu Xiu’s eyes glowed with crimson light. The blood-red sword mark on his forehead pulsed with energy.

He channeled his sword intent into his palm, the air around him thick with killing intent, staining his hand a bloody hue.

He pushed his Archaic Saint Body to its limits, golden light erupting from his pores, a constellation of power swirling around him. He attacked, his palm a blade of pure force, aimed at the white-clad cultivator’s neck.

A trade of blows, a gamble of life and death.

One of them would fall.

Thud!

The woman’s delicate fist pierced Chu Xiu’s chest, emerging from his back in a spray of blood.

At the same time, his palm sliced through her neck, cleaving through two-thirds of its thickness. Only a thin flap of skin and muscle prevented her head from being completely severed.

“Fuck! You’re cheating! Even with my sword intent, your body withstood it!”

The white-clad cultivator, her expression unchanging, stepped back, her unnaturally large eyes fixed on Chu Xiu.

The wound on her neck closed rapidly, the flesh knitting itself back together.

Chu Xiu’s wound also began to heal, the regenerative power of his Zhe Character Secret Technique swiftly mending his broken body.

[98th Floor Cleared]

He vanished, transported to the next trial.

The field of otherworldly flowers behind them rapidly regenerated, their vibrant petals unfurling, erasing all traces of the battle.

The ice crystal sword in the woman’s hand shattered, dissolving into motes of light. She stared at the spot where Chu Xiu had vanished, a single word escaping her lips, her voice a low murmur of disbelief and awe: “Saint Body…”

[99th Trial Commencing]

Chu Xiu opened his eyes, finding himself in a plaza the size of a football field, surrounded by an endless expanse of white.

Four black stone tablets, each half a meter tall, stood before him.

‘Who… who was I fighting just now?’ He rubbed his temples, his memories of the 98th floor battle fragmented and hazy. He could recall the intense struggle, the desperate exchange of blows, but the details… they were lost to him.

He shook his head, pushing the thought aside. Now wasn’t the time for reminiscing.

He approached the stone tablets.

Each tablet bore a single symbol: sword, saber, spear, fist.

‘A choice, then…’

He walked to the leftmost tablet, the one bearing the sword symbol, and placed his hand upon its surface.

A white light engulfed him, the world around him fading, replaced by a new scene.

A shadowy figure, wielding a long sword, moved gracefully through the void, her movements fluid and precise, her swordsmanship exquisite.

A sword technique…

[Comprehend as many sword techniques and skills as possible within half a day. The greater the number and the deeper the comprehension, the higher the evaluation.]

A black ocean surged forward, its waves crashing and churning, their momentum terrifying. Waves tens of thousands of zhang high threatened to crush his very soul, their oppressive presence filling him with a primal fear, a desperate urge to flee.

“This…”

Chu Xiu’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat.

He considered himself well-versed in the world of cultivation, yet this sight… this endless expanse of black… it was beyond anything he had ever imagined.

What was this place?

Each drop of water in that black ocean… a sword technique.

Each crashing wave… a complete sword skill.

And the ocean… it stretched as far as the eye could see, an infinite expanse of knowledge, of power.

‘How… how many techniques… how many skills… are contained within this boundless sea?’

The sheer scale of it, the vastness of the knowledge on display, filled him with a mixture of awe and terror. This was the power of an Emperor, their methods unfathomable, their understanding beyond human comprehension.

He sat down, his legs crossed, his mind focused, and began to study the techniques, his gaze absorbing every detail, his mind dissecting every movement.

He noticed that the techniques, while numerous, were mostly basic, their quality ranging from Mortal-grade to, at most, Heaven-grade.

A thought sparked in his mind.

An image flashed before his eyes.

An ice crystal sword, moving with effortless grace, gently tapping against a blood-red sword beam, seven or eight meters long.

And then…

The sword beam shattered, its power dissipated, its threat neutralized.

‘That’s… the perfected form of the Azure Peak Three Stances’ Sword Drawing Slash… broken so easily…’

‘No matter how powerful another’s technique may be, it’s ultimately their creation, tailored to their strengths and weaknesses. How can I surpass them by simply imitating their methods?’

A profound realization dawned upon him.

He needed to create his own ultimate sword technique, one perfectly suited to his own strengths, his own unique style.

He began to record the techniques and skills from the black ocean, his mind a sponge, absorbing every detail, every nuance.

And then, he began to refine them, to improve them, to push them beyond their limits.

[Ding! Commence breakthrough of the Clear Wind Sword Technique? Estimated time: five minor cycles, two years. Cost: 5000 breakthrough points. Result: Clear Wind Sword Technique – Perfected Form.]

[Ding! Commence breakthrough of the Thirteen Sword Stances?… ]

[Ding!…]

[Ding!…]

His breakthrough points, accumulated through years of cunning and ruthlessness, dwindled rapidly, like a river bursting its banks.

Five sword techniques perfected.

Thirty-five sword techniques perfected.

One hundred sword techniques perfected.

Two hundred… seven hundred… eight hundred… a thousand…

He stopped at 1050.

His breakthrough points were depleted.

But he felt no regret.

Only exhilaration.

He sat cross-legged above the churning black sea, its waves crashing against him, their power unable to shake his resolve.

‘This time… it’s different. I have the System’s breakthrough function, the Archaic Saint Body, and the Heavenly Slaughter Sword Intent.’

‘I will utilize every advantage, every strength, to forge my own path to power.’

The Archaic Saint Body, granting him unparalleled physical strength and resilience.

The Heavenly Slaughter Sword Intent, its sharpness unmatched, its killing intent chilling to the bone.

How could he combine these two strengths to create the most devastating attack imaginable?

His mind raced, searching for the answer.

And then, it hit him.

A heavy sword.

He needed to develop a heavy sword technique, one that fully unleashed the combined power of his Saint Body and his Sword Intent.

He drew upon the thousand perfected sword techniques he had just absorbed, weaving them together, forging something new, something unique, something… his.

Images flashed through his mind, a torrent of movements, of possibilities.

Time became a blur.

An hour passed… or perhaps a year… or even a millennia…

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, a sea of blood swirling within their depths.

He rose to his feet and extended his right hand.

A three-foot-long, half-foot-wide greatsword materialized, its weight immense, its presence radiating power. (TL Note: One chi (尺) is approximately one-third of a meter.)

He gripped the hilt, his muscles straining under the weight.

‘Heavy…’

At least ten thousand jin. (TL Note: One jin (斤) is approximately half a kilogram.)

He lowered his stance, his body coiled like a spring.

And vanished.

He reappeared above the churning black sea, the greatsword held aloft, its weight threatening to tear his arm from its socket.

He brought the greatsword down, its momentum unstoppable, its power capable of shattering mountains, of cleaving the very heavens in two.

BOOM!

The black sea churned violently, a hundred-meter-wide section of its surface transforming into a massive sword shape, its depth unfathomable. The water within that area… it vanished, as if absorbed by the greatsword’s impact.

“Wan Shi Jie Xiu, First Stance: Annihilation… Complete!”

His bones shattered, his flesh tore, blood spraying from his mouth. His body, like a broken kite, plummeted towards the black sea below.

The attack, fueled by the full force of his Archaic Saint Body and his Heavenly Slaughter Sword Intent, had pushed him beyond his limits.

“Hahaha!” He coughed blood, his laughter echoing across the desolate expanse, a sound of both triumph and pain.

“I am Chu Xiu… the end of all things…” (TL Note: “Wan Shi Jie Xiu” (万事皆休) can be translated as “All Things Come to an End” or “The End of All Things.” It is also a play on Chu Xiu’s name (楚休, Chǔ Xiū), as “xiū” (休) can mean “to rest” or “to end.”)

He envisioned his technique as a four-stance sequence.

The first, Annihilation, its power scaling with the user’s strength.

The second… he hadn’t fully grasped it yet, but he had a direction, a vision. It would involve compressing his blood energy, sword intent, and true essence, unleashing them in a single, devastating explosion. Its power would depend on the level of compression achieved, potentially five, ten, or even fifty times stronger than the first stance.

An invisible force caught him before he hit the black sea, his broken body gently lifted, bathed in a soft, healing light. His wounds closed rapidly, the flesh knitting itself back together, the bones mending.

He wiped the blood from his face, his eyes gleaming with a fierce intensity.

“System, analyze the grade of the Wan Shi Jie Xiu.”

[Hehe… commencing analysis… 10%… 100%]

[Wan Shi Jie Xiu]

[Category: Sword Technique]

[Grade: Immortal] (TL Note: Immortal-grade techniques are exceptionally rare and powerful.)

[Stances:]

[First Stance: Annihilation]

[Destructive Power: ★★★★★]

[Attack Speed: ★★★★]

[Description: An overwhelmingly powerful strike that combines the Archaic Saint Body’s blood energy with the Heavenly Slaughter Sword Intent, closing the distance with the enemy at blinding speed and unleashing a devastating blow.]

[Second Stance: ??? (Not yet comprehended. Further comprehension is not recommended at this time; it may result in death.)]

‘Immortal grade… for a technique I just created?’

‘If I complete all four stances…’

He couldn’t help but laugh, a sound of pure exhilaration. The thousand breakthrough points… they had been well spent.

He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

‘The first stance… it’s still not perfect…’

‘If I were to add half of my true essence, along with an Immortal-grade movement technique or higher…’

‘Speed: SSSSS+, Destructive Power: SSSSS+’

‘Holy shit… even I’m scared of myself. Who could possibly dodge an attack like that?’

‘And if they can’t dodge… then it’s off to the afterlife they go…’

[You have cleared all trials for the Sea of Qi realm. You will be transported out of the Tai Su Divine Pagoda in five breaths. Prepare yourself.]