Chapter 68: The Final Challenge

After reminding Ye Xing, the middle-aged dojo master surnamed Matsushita slashed down at him with his wooden sword. Though the attack appeared fierce, he held back, clearly showing not caution but a lack of respect—a gesture Ye Xing found equally insulting. With one hand, Ye Xing pushed his wooden sword forward, catching the blade of Matsushita’s. The sword stopped dead, and not just Matsushita but everyone else was taken aback. To block the master’s sword with the blade of your own—just how confident must one be to pull that off?

With a casual flick, Ye Xing knocked Matsushita’s sword aside, then pointed his own blade at the dojo master and said coldly, “I don’t need you to hold back. If you don’t fight with all your strength, you’ll lose terribly.”

After witnessing Ye Xing’s maneuver, Matsushita put away his arrogance. He no longer looked at Ye Xing as a promising junior, but as a true opponent capable of defeating him. His wooden sword darted toward what seemed a vulnerable spot on Ye Xing’s chest, but Ye Xing easily shifted aside, dodging the thrust. Matsushita spun his blade for a horizontal slash at close range—a move that ordinarily few could evade. He had defeated many with this very technique. But this opponent was unlike any he’d faced. Ye Xing let go of his sword, spun it around his wrist, and regripped the hilt, blocking the slash as if it were nothing.

Failing to land a hit, Matsushita launched a flurry of attacks, each aimed at a place difficult to defend. Yet Ye Xing, wielding his wooden sword single-handedly, deflected them all with effortless grace. Not once did Matsushita manage a solid strike; every attack was either deftly diverted or simply avoided.

“Is that guy really managing to hold his own against the master for so long?” someone in the crowd exclaimed in amazement.

“Hold his own? It’s been the master attacking the whole time—he’s just defending. Clearly, he’s losing ground. I bet he’ll be beaten soon,” someone else said, jealousy biting at his words as he tried to downplay Ye Xing’s skill.

While the ordinary students debated, those disciples with strength second only to the master watched with rapt attention. Only they could see that every one of the master’s attacks had been effortlessly neutralized by this young man. The one at a disadvantage was, in fact, their own master.

After several exchanges, Ye Xing realized Matsushita had run out of tricks. Instantly, he shifted from defense to offense. Against an “ordinary man,” Ye Xing didn’t unleash his true speed, deliberately slowing his attacks to avoid shocking the crowd. In just one second, he struck five times—targeting Matsushita’s calf, abdomen, and shoulder, then, with two final blows, broke Matsushita’s sword and delivered the last strike right to his face.

Caught off guard and struck in quick succession, Matsushita felt pain shoot through his calf, abdomen, and shoulder, his fingers going numb. The hilt of his sword slipped from his grasp, the blade already broken.

“You’ve lost,” Ye Xing said coldly, withdrawing his sword from Matsushita’s face. Ignoring the stunned, speechless students, he walked straight through them and out the door. The system notification chimed in his head: 1/10. Nine more dojos to go.

The sound of the sword hilt hitting the ground wasn’t enough to snap the students from their stupor. The boy who’d only been on the defensive had suddenly counterattacked, and in the blink of an eye, Matsushita was on his knees, his sword broken.

“The master actually lost, didn’t he?” someone finally dared to ask.

“Yes, he lost. Am I dreaming? How could a boy defeat the master so quickly? It doesn’t feel real!” another murmured, clutching his head in disbelief.

The person beside him, seeing his reaction, gave him a hard slap across the face.

“Why did you hit me?” he demanded angrily, rubbing his cheek.

“Seeing how much it hurt, I guess you’re not dreaming after all,” the slapper replied nonchalantly.

“If you wanted to check, why not slap yourself instead? Why hit me?”

“Because I’m afraid of pain,” came the matter-of-fact answer.

Gradually, as everyone processed what had happened, the dojo filled with excited discussion. All talk centered on the boy who’d just defeated the master. Suddenly, someone asked, “Where did that boy go?” Only then did they realize they didn’t even know his name. When they tried to find him, Ye Xing was long gone.

“I remember he said he would challenge ten dojos. That means he’ll go to the others—we’ll be able to find him then!”

On the twelfth day, Ye Xing’s twelfth day on the mission, he had already challenged eleven dojos. He’d even visited two controversial ones among the last few, both well-equipped and grand, but their masters were easily defeated, proving they weren’t among the top ten. Having finished nine challenges in the previous eleven days, on the twelfth day Ye Xing finally arrived at the dojo ranked first in Chuangzhu City, and also the farthest from his home. Once he finished this battle, he would complete his task and master the advanced sword-drawing technique.

Arriving before an unremarkable building, Ye Xing saw a crowd had already gathered—most there for the spectacle, others being members of dojos he’d previously defeated, all come to witness his final challenge. In just eleven days, nearly everyone studying swordsmanship in Chuangzhu City had heard of Ye Xing’s exploits.

With each successive victory, Ye Xing’s fame in the city soared. Many aspiring swordsmen began to idolize him, and those who’d seen him fight found their own passion for swordsmanship rekindled, prompting a surge of new students enrolling in dojos. The number of spectators for this final challenge was immense, but Ye Xing paid them no heed.

Amidst the cheers along the way, Ye Xing moved past the crowd and entered the dojo named Poison Island Dojo. In the courtyard, a freshly built platform stood—it was clear this had been prepared in anticipation of his arrival. The usual indoor arena was too small for the throngs who wished to watch, so they had set up the stage outside.

As Ye Xing appeared, the crowd parted to let him through. Those closest to the stage were the masters of the dojos he had already defeated. And kneeling serenely at the center of the arena was a young girl with purple hair and emerald eyes.