"Could she be controlling this sword with that fine thread? But how does she make the sword change direction with such a thin line?"
Quinn Shepherd had no time to ponder the mystery; he dashed away at once. With a sharp swish, the sword grazed past him and stabbed deep into a tree trunk.
The sword seemed almost alive, twitching twice inside the tree but failing to break free. The young woman floated over, slender hand gripping the hilt as she drew the blade out, muttering in frustration, "My White Tiger Qi still isn’t strong enough—I can’t make it move as I wish..."
"Claire, you’re already amazing—turning your vital qi into threads and wielding a sword to kill. Not many can do that."
The young man who had crossed the water with her came up, smiling gently. "It’s not your cultivation that’s lacking, but your practice. That’s why Master brought us to the Great Ruins—to make up for this weakness. We used to train alone, never fighting for real, but now this little demon spawn is our live combat trial. You’ll soon master sword control with qi."
The other three youths arrived; one of them laughed, "That little demon spawn turned into a deer, and deer are naturally agile—so of course he dodged Senior Sister’s sword."
Senior Sister Claire’s spirits lifted. She continued to drive her sword at Quinn Shepherd, giggling, "Kurt, don’t interfere—let me use this little demon spawn for sword practice."
Senior Brother Kurt, the young man who had crossed the water with her, nodded and smiled, "Let’s watch Claire’s swordsmanship together, brothers."
Quinn Shepherd dodged the sword light behind him with all his might, puzzled: "Controlling a sword with qi? So that thread in her hand isn’t real—it’s her vital energy? She can manipulate a sword to this degree? Could I ever do that?"
He’d learned to wield a butcher’s knife from Butcher, but Butcher only taught him to use his hands, never how to control a blade with qi. He knew nothing about this technique.
Watching Senior Sister Claire control her sword with qi, Quinn Shepherd’s mind began to race. If you could control a sword with qi, could you use vital energy to manipulate other things too?
But Senior Sister Claire’s sword came at him again, giving him no time to think. Besides, Granny Sue had turned him into a deer—his limbs were clumsy, and his qi inside felt lifeless, far less lively than usual.
Hiss—
Sword light flashed, attacking from behind and slicing across Quinn Shepherd’s back. He felt a sudden chill, then a searing pain—he knew Senior Sister Claire’s sword had wounded him.
"Damn it, a deer is fast, but nowhere near as nimble as my real body. Granny Sue turned me into a deer, and now I’m hurt—there’s no way I’ll escape this..."
Just as that thought crossed his mind, he suddenly felt his mouth splitting open.
It wasn’t his real mouth splitting, but the mouth of the deer skin detaching from his face!
Quinn immediately remembered how Granny Sue had quietly pulled a needle from his brow when she told him to run. That needle had pinned his Heaven Soul in place!
Soon, his head separated from the deer skin.
Sword qi whistled through the air behind him, slashing down. Quinn Shepherd surged forward, bursting out of the deer skin, rolling and tumbling more than ten yards away, then sprang up and bolted at full speed.
Behind him, the deer skin was shredded by Senior Sister Claire’s sword, qi guiding the blade to slice it to bits. Her swordplay had clearly improved in the heat of the chase—her sword danced like petals, coming and going like lightning.
Breaking free from the deer skin’s restraints cost Quinn Shepherd a split second. A teenage boy stepped onto the leaves above the woods, dropping down in front of him to block his path.
They were only two or three yards apart—close enough that in a blink, they’d be face to face.
Quinn couldn’t change direction in time; his mind went blank. Instinctively, his body unleashed the leg technique taught by the cripple—head down, feet up, legs whipping out like a whirlwind!
"Azure Dragon Arm!"
The boy was a few years older than Quinn Shepherd, his face twisted in a mocking grin. He blocked with both hands—his arms glowed with a greenish light, dragon scales and claws rippling over his skin. Quinn’s legs slammed into his arms with a metallic clang. The boy’s smile hadn’t faded before he grunted, staggered, and was forced to retreat.
His sleeves exploded, fluttering like paper butterflies as scraps filled the air. Both arms looked as if they’d been carved with dragon claw tattoos, dragon claws winding along his limbs.
But taking Quinn’s kicks head-on, his arms instantly turned red and swollen.
"Are you hiding iron ingots in your legs?"
The boy’s hands trembled from the pain, shock and anger on his face. His gaze dropped to Quinn’s feet. "Are your shoes made of iron too?"
Quinn Shepherd braced himself with both hands, landed on his feet, and sprinted away.
But the boy’s words reminded him—he really did have iron ingots strapped to his legs. The cripple had taught him leg techniques, insisting he always wear the ingots, never taking them off whether sitting, lying down, or walking.
Lately, as Quinn’s body grew tougher and stronger, the cripple kept making the ingots heavier. He even had Mute, the blacksmith, forge Quinn a pair of iron shoes to add more weight.
The thick-soled iron shoes weighed ten jin each, and the ingots twenty jin per leg—Quinn was running with fifty jin strapped to his legs!
The cripple demanded he train until he no longer noticed the weight, only then allowing him to remove the ingots and take off the shoes. Quinn had gotten used to them; just now, sprinting at full speed, he’d forgotten he was running with extra weight.
But if he stopped to take off the shoes and unstrap the ingots, he’d be caught for sure—he couldn’t afford to slow down.
"Trample Through Mount Sumeru!"
As Quinn ran, he suddenly pushed off with his right foot, unleashing the move ‘Trample Through Mount Sumeru.’ The thick sole of his iron shoe shattered like mud, fragments flying everywhere.
At the same time, his calf muscles bunched and bulged, snapping the iron ingots loose—they shot into the surrounding trees like arrows.
He stepped forward with his other foot, smashing its iron shoe and bursting free of the ingots as well.
Whoosh—
Suddenly, his body felt light. With a single stride, he landed atop a tree crown, startling himself.
Quinn Shepherd, now barefoot, balanced on the tree’s tip—then began to sink downward.
Below, sword light flashed upward—a dozen razor-sharp sword tips filled his vision!
Senior Sister Claire’s sword technique was growing fiercer by the moment. She wasn’t controlling dozens of swords, but making a single blade blossom into dozens of sword flowers!
Quinn suddenly remembered the cripple’s words: "Don’t worry if the ground beneath your feet can hold you. If you run fast enough, water is flat, grass is flat, even air is flat—everywhere becomes a clear road!"
He tapped his toes and sprinted away. Sword light erupted behind him, shattering the crown of the tree he’d just stood on!
Two boys leapt to the treetops, staring in shock as Quinn Shepherd raced from crown to crown, wind howling behind him—his speed was jaw-dropping!
"He’s younger than us—how is he so fast? His cultivation base... it might be stronger than ours..."
Just as the two boys thought this, Senior Brother Kurt shot forward like a streak, chasing after Quinn Shepherd even faster than him.
"Senior Brother Kurt really is at the peak of the Spirit Embryo stage—he’s way stronger than us."
They exclaimed, "With Senior Brother Kurt making a move himself, that little demon spawn is doomed."
Suddenly, a huge shadow rose from the forest—a furry paw as big as a mat swung at Senior Brother Kurt, smacking him out of the air!
Senior Brother Kurt spun like a top, crashing to the ground and rolling over and over before finally stopping. He sat up, spat out blood, and shouted, "Don’t go any closer! This is a demon ape’s territory—there’s a demon ape living here!"
The other four froze. In the shadows of the forest, they saw a massive, terrifying black ape—red eyes, fangs bared, pounding its chest like war drums: "Little brat! Die!"
Quinn Shepherd, who’d been running ahead, was also swatted down by the demon ape, landing motionless by its huge feet.
Senior Sister Claire whispered, "Senior Brother Kurt was badly hurt by a single slap—if the demon ape hit that little demon spawn too, he must be dead."
But as she spoke, she saw Quinn Shepherd, lying by the demon ape’s side, secretly open one eye and peek at the beast. Claire jumped in surprise: "He’s not dead?"
The black demon ape roared a few times, pleased that no one dared approach. It bent down to look at Quinn, flipped him over with two fingers, and asked, "Little brat, dead?"
Quinn’s eyes bulged, blood streamed from his seven orifices, and his tongue lolled out—looking as dead as could be.
The demon ape grunted, tossed Quinn’s ‘corpse’ aside, and sat down, leisurely pulling up a tree to munch on its leaves.
"So fierce, and it’s actually a vegetarian," Quinn thought, still bleeding from every orifice, eyes bulging, quietly edging his shoulders away.
Suddenly, the demon ape spun around—Quinn’s ‘corpse’ froze perfectly still. The ape stared hard, but Quinn didn’t move a muscle.
The demon ape poked the ‘corpse,’ found it cold and stiff, and was satisfied: "Little brat, dead." It turned away, focused on eating leaves.
From a distance, Claire couldn’t help but say, "Big guy, isn’t it strange that the little brat’s corpse went stiff so fast?"
The demon ape seemed to understand, slapped its own forehead, and spun around—only to see the ‘corpse’ standing bolt upright and sprinting away at full speed.