The ten-thousand swords in Ming Feizhen's world suddenly began to vibrate as though they were starting to lose their temper. Numbers aside, owing to them being manifested via Ming Feizhen's internal energy, their ferocity was in another realm's to Tang Ye's.
Like rainfall, the swords fired toward them comparably to shooting stars in the night sky. They tore through the air so rapidly you could hear them moving. The swords at the forefront had a red tinge on their tip, a result of zipping through the air so quickly that the friction with the air imbued the swords with fire.
When Tang Ye saw an afterimage, he already felt the pain register as a sword sliced his skin. By that point, the swords were all within a lethal distance.
The swords moved too swiftly for Tang Ye to keep up with. It was no different to watching a calamity come zooming down. You ran as fast as you humanly could, but your legs seemed stuck, and you couldn't escape. It was no different to being stuck in an eternal nightmare, where you were only waiting for one moment. Death.
Indeed, in that moment, that was the only clear thought in Tang Ye's mind. The instant swords were about to pierce his eyes he heard a strange sound. The pain of being pierced by a rain of swords didn't register. The experience was akin to finally hearing a sound the instant a fire went out or a candle was lit. As for feelings, it felt similar to a powerful blow sinking into a swamp and losing functioning. Perhaps a better alternative comparison was the sound of the instant a fire was put out. It was a soft sound.
Once Tang Ye ran the above analysis through his mind, he realised he was still alive. With a forehead smothered in sweat, he looked left and right to try and clarify what his situation was. His eyes finally returned to normal functioning. At the end of his search, he saw Ming Feizhen.
Ming Feizhen was relaxed as always. He even smiled for that matter. He smiled as if it had nothing to do with him. That was what answered Tang Ye's pressing question. He saw a gigantic white spider web. The threads were so closely arranged that nothing would've been able to pierce through. If you could imagine, it looked no different to a net of snow.
On both ends of the web were several – or rather, dozens – of threads that were directly linked to Ming Feizhen's sleeves. In the net were the swords that came zooming down before.
Tang Ye realised that the net, or rather, Ming Feizhen, who stopped a fatal rainfall of swords.
Ming Feizhen didn't bother looking at the swords vibrating in the web. Instead, he turned to give Tang Ye a smile: "Careful. If you can see it, then you could potentially get hurt."
Tang Ye was about to dodge, but when he went to move, he realised that it didn't matter where he ran to under the pressure and magnitude of the attack. He furrowed his eyebrows. After a quick think, he swiftly took cover behind Ming Feizhen.
Ming Feizhen smiled: "Smart kid."
The flying swords went for round two.
Ming Feizhen shook his celestial spider web to shake off the swords from round one and nullify round two's attack. Celestial spider silk was impervious to fire, blades and water. Hence, the previous attack didn't damage the silk whatsoever.
Tang Ye asked, "Big Brother… you use silk threads as a weapon?"
"The softest thing in the world can control the toughest thing in the world," replied Ming Feizhen.
Ming Feizhen swiftly pulled the thread used to form the web in. Then, he controlled the thread off his fingers by gradually releasing them.
"You may have seen blades break each other when they clash, but have you ever seen anyone slice running water? A thread with no power can't be cut, can it?"
Flying swords formed again and attacked for a third time. The third attack was different to the previous two attacks. The third attack method was totally new. The swords seem to draw on the experience from each attack for the sequential ones.
Ming Feizhen's threads launched off his fingers again, as well. Over twenty threads resembling twenty whips swept through the rainfall of swords, bending the blades with whipping motions. As the spider threads were thin, while the swords were wide, the threads were able to form an impregnable shield in front of Ming Feizhen. A victor, therefore, couldn't be determined so easily.
Tang Ye was completely blown away by the indescribable scene before him. Curious, he asked, "What style are you using? I've never seen it before."
"This is my self-invented style. It's the only set of techniques I have for humans versus humans."
Ming Feizhen dealt with the hundreds of swords in front of him using the silk threads in his left hand. He used it to form a large hammer. He imbued the hammer with his internal energy to then bend the swords behind him with a smash, making it difficult for them to attack. Because the sword phantoms couldn't be maintained for long, they vanished. The swords behind him, however, began to attack again. Ming Feizhen didn't rush or deliberately go slow as he raised the thread in his right hand.
"I named this style Night Net Heavenly Thread."
Ming Feizhen flicked his fiver fingers on his right hand, which had the threads perform a wave-like motion. Like a one-foot-long whip, the threads ferociously whipped the sword formation, shattering the leading sword!
Ming Feizhen followed his previous pattern. He threw out celestial spider silk, alternating between hands, creating wave after wave, thereby knocking the swords away with ease. He continued repeating his tactic for an entire hour. He didn't completely destroy the flying swords; however, they couldn't harm him, either. Ten thousand swords spawned again every time he destroyed ten thousand. Both were so strong that the shockwaves they generated each clash had Tang Ye wobbling slightly.
Panting, Tang Ye asked, "Big Brother, repeating this on end is not a solution. Will this really dismantle the formation?"
Ming Feizhen insipidly replied, "All of the flying swords are summoned by a Sword Sprit. Humans have a cap to how much they have in the tank but objects don't. By the same token, Sword Sprit also has a limit. Weren't you watching? Every round's attack was different to the previous round. They fight the same way a swordsman does by varying their attacks."
"I noticed," quietly replied Tang Ye. "I think they follow a set of guidelines. I started counting jut before. There are a total of thirty-eight sword formations, which matches the number of words on the white wall. That being said, the sword formations will repeat. That's why I said continuing to counter it is not a solution."
"Don't you find that bizarre?" asked Ming Feizhen, knocking away another batch of flying swords. Sounding as though he figured something out, he revealed a smile of confidence: "Since they repeat, how did you manage to count there were thirty-eight sword formations so fast? If there were techniques that were repeated, how can you be so sure that there are thirty-eight formations?"
It finally clicked for Tang Ye: "That would be attributed to the fact that the formations are executed following a set of guidelines. I counted from the first one and noticed that there were no changes for thirty-eight of them. After the thirty-eighth one, it repeated from the beginning."
"Precisely. The sword formation follows a set of guidelines, and the guidelines are the answer to the riddle on the wall."
Ming Feizhen suddenly switched techniques to something entirely different. But nonetheless, Tang Ye understood his logic. That was one of the moves from the thirty-eight sword formations. Ming Feizhen shouted: "Four!"
Ming Feizhen's move was executed with tremendous power. The move Ming Feizhen used was one of the formation's masterpieces. Although Ming Feizhen wasn't a technique specialist, having seen the move seven times, he imitated the visual aspect perfectly. His utilised a swordplay resembling Night Net Heavenly Thread and managed to offer as much output as though he was using a real sword. Night Net Heavenly Thread was capable of many variations in a concerted attack, thereby increasing its power. If he was to use an actual sword, on the other hand, he would most likely fail given his skills with an actual sword.
Once the technique from the late carving was executed, the flying swords switched to another taolu for the first time, retreating in unison. In previous attacks, they didn't retreat even when destroyed.
Ming Feizhen laughed: "I thought so."
Night Net Heavenly Thread continued its attacks. It switched between changing techniques, drifting, risk-taking, big and unique or nimble movements in succession. However, the techniques executed were magnificent and varied greatly from technique to technique.
"Six! Twelve! Fourteen! One by one!"
Every single one of the techniques came from Hero Shenzhou's swordplay in the carving. The ten-thousand swords just sat there and took a beating surprisingly. Despite the profound nature of the techniques, Ming Feizhen's horrid swordplay meant he was unable to produce one-twentieth of the maximum potential. That was why it as surprising that he was able to thwart the flying swords.
"One and three! Twenty nine! Three then one!"
Ming Feizhen gradually overwhelmed the flying swords. All they did was retreat and retreat some more.
Baffled, Tang Ye asked, "What's going on?"
"The thirty-eight moves within the formations aren't from one style. Twenty six of the moves are from one style, but the remainder are from another style. My great grandmaster mixed two swordplay styles into the text. That's what induces the mind confusion resulting from difficulty with distinguishing. The two styles have no similarities whatsoever. The former is just a mediocre style. The former, to the contrary, is a peerless swordplay. I suppose Great Grandmaster only wanted to pass down eleven moves."
Ming Feizhen retracted his celestial spider silk. Tone relaxed, he said, "I watched for the differences as I countered the incoming attacks. I found that countering the twelve moves is the only way to resolve the riddle. I must say, the flying swords are so well-behaved."
Tang Ye frowned: "Too well-behaved, you mean…? Why have they not completely backed off yet?"
After the last move, the swords kept retreated further and further away until they were blocked by the roof. Zhaixing Hall was originally built for stargazing, which was why the ceiling was higher than the imperial palace. The swords retreated to the roof as if they were creating space for a run up or something.
Ming Feizhen was bewildered by the swords' retreat. Nevertheless, he quickly comprehended their aim: "They're preparing to kill the people in the room. This is the last blow Great Grandmaster set in place. The swords were created from my mentality; they'll come raining down with my internal energy."
Eyebrows drawn together, Tang Ye asked, "So it'll kill you even if you figure out the secret? What's the point of forcing someone to solve it, then?"
Ming Feizhen shrugged: "How would I know? I can't do anything about his wilfulness."
"Will you… be able to take the last strike?"
Ming Feizhen dodged the question. He, instead, calmly said, "You know, I created seven different uses for Night Net Heavenly Thread. Each function was created with my lifetime of knowledge and diligence. I call them Seven King Threads."
"Wait! What's the point of you telling me that now? The swords are coming!"
*Whiz!*
Like a death god coming for their lives, the first sword speared down from the night sky far in the distance.
Ming Feizhen stared intently at the materialised metal flying sword. He gently shifted his head ever so slightly for it to pass him by a hairbreadth, literally. Tang Ye's heart stopped beating for the split second.
"Who told you there's no point in me telling you? There's nothing more important than it."
"Wait! Here comes another!"
They had no chances to catch their breaths, for more flying swords flew toward them with more force than ever before. With doomsday coming down on them, Tang Ye suddenly felt as though he was familiar with the feeling. He pinpointed that the feeling was the same as the one Ming Feizhen gave him during their duel. He asked himself how he was supposed to defend against an attack with Ming Feizhen's internal energy in combination with Hero Shenzhou's swordplay. Before he could find an answer, he heard a quiet voice by his ear.
"There is nothing gentler than water. There is no gap it cannot seep into. Water is supple, fluid and silent, yet can big and violent. There is nothing that can stop water," recited Ming Feizhen, eyes shut.
By the time Ming Feizhen finished reciting the manual's activation chant, the flying swords were right at his forehead. However, he opened his eyes in the last moment: "Water King Thread."
The formidable swords suddenly pulled back! Look closer and one could see threads attached to the sword handles. When Ming Feizhen had his eyes shut, the celestial spider thread seemingly came to life and left its nest to latch on to places it needed to. As a consequence, the flying swords were caught in their traps once they moved. The thread then began to act unusual. One would be questioning their eyes if they witnessed it, but it was happening. The thread suddenly showed suppleness and fluidity comparable to water.
Ming Feizhen previously wielded the celestial spider thread similarly to a rope, yet he now used it as if it was running water. The waves moved the flying swords aside. The rainfall of swords encountered what could compare to waterfalls that stopped its assault. Ming Feizhen kept releasing threads that replicated the movement of flowing water, throwing the swords into disarray. As opposed to wielding the threads as single strands, they were collected and replicated ocean waves.
The swords fell, but they didn't just fall; they appeared as though they sunk deep down below the ocean, losing their ability to inflict harm. In spite of the strategy, the sword rainfall continued. That resulted in a deadlock between the swords and Ming Feizhen. Fortunately, Water King Threads' potential didn't end there.
Ming Feizhen rotated his hands, thereby rotating the celestial spider thread in the air in reverse. The swords drown in the sea floating overhead began to rotate. The flow of water grew turbulent and gradually turned into a whirlpool. The swords caught in its rotational force were dragged into the whirlpool. New flying swords were then absorbed, producing an even larger whirlpool. As the whirlpool expanded, it collected more swords, subsequently increasing the whirlpool's dimensions infinitely.
The ten-thousand swords fell against their will until none were left. Eventually, only a whirlpool remained above. With a squeeze of his left hand, Ming Feizhen stopped the lengthening of the thread. Gradually but eventually, the whirlpool slowed and recollected as a mass of thread, consequently stopping any spinning all together. Peace was returned. In the centre was a collection of what bore a resemblance to bugs.
"It's over." Ming Feizhen closed his hand and executed a downward yank.
The thread fastened around the flying swords was fastened as tight as they could. Thus, when Ming Feizhen yanked on the thread, the thread reduced them to bits of metal that rained. The sight was akin to stars falling. They vanished when they landed.
The white wall covered in text never looked so normal before. It wouldn't be surprising if the Emperor was ecstatic to see the wall appear so ordinary. Someone finally solved the riddle Hero Shenzhou left in the imperial palace for over two decades.
Ming Feizhen and Tang Ye's Sword Spirit vanished without a trace. They overcame the illusion through sheer brute force. Ming Feizhen's two years of assiduous contemplation finally bore fruit. Night Net Heavenly Thread was finally complete.
Ming Feizhen looked up at the sky of silver rain then looked down at his hand. He muttered under his breath, "Have I grown strong?"
Tang Ye folded his arms. He peered at the bright full moon outside. Sounding bored out of his skin, he grumbled, "Feels surreal."
Glossary
*Thirty Eight Formations – Again, this is going by the English word count. You want me to keep it or go for thirty four? I've had to make a number of edits to the numbers to match the English.
Verdict:
(A) Stick to the Chinese and accept that the English and Chinese don't match.
(B) Alter the counts in Chinese to match the English count at the cost of absolute precision in translation.
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