white phantom

Bai Shen exhaled slowly. His grip tightened, though there was no weapon in his hands.

The hermit circled him, his movements blending seamlessly with the wind. "Now that you can read my attacks, let's see if you can strike back."

Bai Shen didn't respond. He closed his mind to unnecessary distractions, feeling the subtle shifts in the air, the faintest tremors in the ground beneath his feet.

Then, he moved.

A Strike Without a Blade

Bai Shen lunged forward. Not wildly, not blindly, but with measured precision. His foot barely grazed the ground as he shifted weight, redirecting his energy in an instant.

The hermit vanished. A gust of wind followed.

But Bai Shen was ready.

Instead of swinging his fists recklessly, he let his body follow the unseen currents. He twisted mid-motion, his palm sweeping outward—not toward the hermit directly, but into the path where the wind carried his presence.

Whoosh!

His fingers barely brushed fabric. The hermit had already evaded.

But Bai Shen didn't stop.

Instead of pursuing, he planted his foot firmly, using the momentum of his miss to flow into another movement. A step, a turn, an elbow strike—each motion seamless, each strike part of an unbroken rhythm.

The hermit chuckled. "Good. You're not resisting the flow. But—"

A sudden shift in air pressure.

Bai Shen sensed it immediately. Instead of dodging, he let the force of the attack pull him in—just enough to redirect it. His body turned at the last moment, and his arm snapped forward.

Thud!

His palm met the hermit's sleeve, a solid connection. Not a direct hit, but enough to make contact.

The wind stilled for a fraction of a second.

The Meaning of True Combat

The hermit stepped back, nodding in approval. "You've grasped the essence of combat without a weapon."

Bai Shen exhaled. His body ached slightly from the previous blows, but he felt something shift within him.

Fighting without a sword wasn't about replacing it with fists. It wasn't about brute force.

It was about harmony.

The sword had always been an extension of his will. But now, Bai Shen understood—his entire body could be a weapon. His movements, his instincts, the very air around him could be wielded just as effectively.

The hermit smiled. "This is just the beginning. But now, you are ready to take the next step."

Bai Shen straightened, his blind eyes unwavering. "What is the next step?"

The hermit turned toward the distant mountains. "To forge a blade without steel. A sword not of metal, but of intent."

Bai Shen's journey had only just begun.