My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion-Chapter 737 - 470: If It’s the Northern Dynasty, Then Be It (Combined - )_2

Yin Tingxue stayed in the Nameless Academy reciting texts. Taking advantage of Zhou Yitang's absence, she gazed out the window toward the mountain path and caught sight of a familiar figure.

Wasn't that Senior Sister Lu?

Two days and nights had passed since the minor examination. Lu Ying ascended the mountain path, her silhouette cutting through the towering spruces, reaching the summit where a one-armed woman awaited her.

"Master."

Lu Ying greeted her master, her tone so flat it surprised even herself.

There wasn't the slightest emotion of returning home… Lu Ying's eyes lowered slightly as she tried to search her heart for waves of feelings, but there were none to be found.

Zhou Yitang glanced briefly at Lu Ying and nodded—that was the highest acknowledgment she could offer.

Lu Ying followed her silently, no extraneous words nor unnecessary inquiries exchanged between them. Over time, master and disciple had cultivated an unusual bond that transcended mere understanding, something akin to an unspoken connection.

"Yu Zhen told me your next fate lies in the southwest—it's likely you'll choose a sword at Sword Country," Zhou Yitang said as they approached a distant stone cliff. "After completing your time at Sword Pool, how do you view your sword?"

She had witnessed Lu Ying's growth firsthand but felt compelled to ask anew.

Lu Ying lowered her gaze briefly before responding, "Who does Master wish to compare to?"

"Me."

"Somewhat accomplished," Lu Ying replied.

Without turning her head, Zhou Yitang posed another name, "Chen Yi."

Lu Ying's expression betrayed mild surprise, though she quickly rationalized it—after all, Chen Yi was her master's nephew. After a moment of thought, she answered, "Less than satisfactory."

The one-armed woman abruptly halted her steps.

Her cold eyes narrowed slightly as she articulated, "Are you saying I fall short by some measure?"

Lu Ying responded, "Disciple dares not speak presumptuously."

Without sorrow or joy, Zhou Yitang's expression remained unreadable as a soft breeze stirred the sleeves on her left side.

With a subtle thought, a wooden sword flew to her hand across the air.

Holding the sword in a single grip, she stepped forward into the training ground where battles were held just the day before and declared:

"Come. Let's see if you're truly somewhat accomplished."

Lu Ying wasted no time. Fetching a wooden weapon from the rack, she positioned herself opposite her master.

On Yin Sword Mountain, it was commonplace for disciples to spar with their masters, and even duels between master and disciple were not considered unusual. While such practices might be seen as disrespectful in traditionally rigid sects, Yin Sword Mountain had long embraced such customs. No one could trace the origins of this tradition anymore, but it was known to benefit Yin Sword Mountain's Sword Dao at its highest and safeguard humanity by slaying demons at its most foundational—hence its enduring legacy.

However, it was rare for such duels to take place on Cangwu Peak. There were few challenges throughout the year; Lu Ying, who once prioritized Taoist cultivation over swordsmanship, had struggled even when Zhou Yitang suppressed her power to its lowest—it was less of a sparring match and more akin to playful tussling.

Only today did Lu Ying finally possess the ability to engage in a genuine sword duel. A barely perceptible excitement rose in her Heart Lake, only to vanish instantaneously.

The master and disciple exchanged blows.

The wooden sword descended in a direct and simple arc—unembellished yet carrying immense force. To Lu Ying, it seemed as if a mountain was crashing down upon her.

Lu Ying lifted her sword abruptly, her figure fluidly moving in intricate footwork aligned with the sword's trajectory. Though Zhou Yitang's sword remained unwavering, Lu Ying's movements shifted constantly—her wrist quivering to slash, lift, thrust, and deflect. The sword edge carved horizontally and vertically, layer after layer seeming to slice away the mountain until only a gentle incline remained.

The wind howled as Zhou Yitang's sword reached Lu Ying's vicinity. With precise judgment, Lu Ying angled her weapon downward, striking a point mere inches from the hilt of her master's sword. Zhou Yitang immediately shifted her wrist downward to thrust at Lu Ying's flank.

Lu Ying suddenly raised her sword, the tip aiming straight at Zhou Yitang's face. Her arm stretched to its limit, and should the exchange continue, Lu Ying was certain to strike her master first.

Zhou Yitang twisted her wrist sharply in an enormous arc, then swiftly raised her sword upward without warning, delivering a nearly unpredictable slash!

Reverse Blade Skill.

Manifesting the principle that simplicity is the ultimate sophistication,

This movement, achievable only with double-edged swords, was a strike impossible for single-edged weapons. It blurred distinctions between the imaginary and the real—the real became illusory, the illusory tangible. For someone like Lu Ying, her current mastery of swordsmanship could never rival the seamless improvisation born of decades of relentless training by a true swordsman.

No matter how varied Lu Ying's prior sword momentum was, effectively sealing Zhou Yitang's aura, every complexity paled in comparison to this single strike.

Wood collided with wood, Zhou Yitang's sword striking the body of Lu Ying's weapon. If this had been combat with real swords, a limb would surely have been severed. The force shook Lu Ying's blade as she had to grip with both hands and retreat several steps, allowing Zhou Yitang to advance again, single-handed against double-handed.

While two hands provided strength, a single hand allowed reach—a principle of swordsmanship. The blades clashed again, Zhou Yitang exploiting her extended reach to press Lu Ying fiercely. Lu Ying reacted purely with defensive parries, the scraping noise of the wooden swords ever sharper. Yet, her mind remained unshaken, enabling her to respond rationally with utmost speed.

The two swords seemed to spiral around each other. Lu Ying's momentum grew steadily heavier, transforming defense into offense. Their strikes—mere horizontal and vertical sweeps—began to reveal depth as Zhou Yitang's once overwhelming blade seemed to shed its mountain-like grandeur, resembling layers of adorned fabric tearing apart and exposing its true form amidst a crescendo of swirling motions.

Lu Ying pivoted and unleashed a revealing strike, only to see…

A pig?!

A startlingly out-of-place pig-faced mask emerged amidst the foliage, worn by a mysterious figure who appeared to smirk in her direction.

Why was he here?

Lu Ying's mind unraveled in an instant. The previously serene and flawless sword momentum collapsed into chaos. Her blade trembled, and the sound of rushing air echoed.

Zhou Yitang's sword had already stopped mere inches from Lu Ying's neck.

Emerging victorious in the duel, the one-armed woman revealed no hint of joy on her face. This wasn't merely a sparring match for Lu Ying to affirm her Sword Dao; rather, it was Zhou Yitang continuously honing Lu Ying's Sword Heart, stripping away distractions.