Wu Ling and Vane Ash stood facing each other.
To outsiders, they looked like two ordinary people holding wooden swords and staring into empty space.
But as time passed, Alistair Jewel, Yue Guan, and the others watching from the side gradually sensed something vague, yet undeniably real.
"This is... presence!"
The same term appeared in all four of their minds. For Titled Sages, sensing and controlling a portion of their own presence was already possible. But for Wu Ling and Vane Ash to release such presence without even summoning their Martial Souls was still extremely rare.
Yue Guan and Ghost were not especially surprised. They had experienced Wu Ling's martial skill personally. They had even simulated the situation before. If they fought him with the same level of Spirit Power, neither of them dared guarantee victory.
Alistair Jewel's side, however, was truly shocked. Vane Ash had said many times that Wu Ling was no weaker than him in the way of the sword. But as Vane Ash's friends of many years, Alistair Jewel and Lucius Grimm naturally trusted Vane Ash's strength. They had never imagined there was any chance Vane Ash could lose.
Yet judging only by presence, Vane Ash would lose.
The difference also began showing in the two people facing each other. Wu Ling's expression and movements remained casual. Vane Ash's face gradually turned serious. His body slowly straightened, and his stance changed slightly.
As Vane Ash's expression went from serious to grave, Wu Ling suddenly smiled faintly.
That smile would normally have looked exceptionally handsome. Now, it looked painfully mocking.
Then Wu Ling gently placed his other hand on the sword hilt as well.
When Vane Ash saw it, his face reddened slightly. Alistair Jewel would have staked Lucius Grimm's entire dignity on the fact that he had never seen Vane Ash wear such an expression in his life.
During a one-handed sword standoff, the first person to grip the sword with both hands was admitting they were one step weaker. But from Wu Ling's expression, this act of weakness was clearly a concession he had granted Vane Ash.
It was like playing a game where, just as someone was about to lose, the other side suddenly killed itself or surrendered. That was not only charity toward the opponent. It was also absolute confidence in one's own strength.
Being "given charity" made Vane Ash feel deeply stifled, but he had to admit that Wu Ling's presence was stronger than his own.
Wu Ling's presence had changed from simple and absolute, to swift and lethal, then finally to violent and overwhelming, like a raging storm. Two consecutive transformations had even made Vane Ash mistakenly feel as if he were facing three different martial masters.
But from Wu Ling's relaxed control, those three kinds of presence truly belonged to him. Only one's own presence could be switched and controlled so easily.
"What a frightening person. If someone obtains one presence in a lifetime, that already counts as entering the hall. Two means extraordinary talent. Yet he has three. It seems I still underestimated him."
As Vane Ash thought this, both of his hands slowly closed around his sword.
"Even if this is a battle I am certain to lose, I will still fight it. This is my sword presence. Forward without retreat. Advance or perish."
Vane Ash's sword presence, shaken slightly by Wu Ling's earlier gesture, gathered again. This time, it became even denser, like a divine sword drawn from its sheath. Either the sword would break, or the man would die.
Seeing that Vane Ash was risking everything, Wu Ling put away his playful expression and grew serious as well.
When the surrounding silence reached its peak, Vane Ash moved.
He used a simple, pure downward cut. Wu Ling reversed his grip and met it from below.
There was no dazzling storm of sword-light. This was a debate of swords, not a deathmatch. Only those who did not truly understand skill would mistake flashy showing-off for a sword debate. That might fool ordinary people, but before masters like Wu Ling and Vane Ash, once the opponent began a motion, the next attack was already clear.
Put simply:
Vane Ash: "I predicted your move."
Wu Ling: "I predicted that you predicted my move."
Vane Ash: "I predicted that you predicted that I predicted your move."
Wu Ling: "I predicted..."
In Alistair Jewel and the others' eyes, after their swords touched once, Vane Ash's motion would only reach halfway before Wu Ling made a small response. Then, without their swords meeting again, both of them returned to their starting positions.
After several rounds, their movements became smaller and smaller. Vane Ash merely raised his hand halfway, Wu Ling shifted his blade sideways by a fraction, and Vane Ash broke out in cold sweat before lowering his hand again.
If either of them were facing someone who only knew how to throw around sword-light, that opponent might lose his head before he even had a chance to show off.
A while later, Alistair Jewel and the others saw Wu Ling and Vane Ash stop moving completely. They were still puzzled when Wu Ling lifted his sword slightly, and a line of bright red blood ran from Vane Ash's lips.
"Vane Ash!"
"Old Chen!"
Alistair Jewel and Lucius Grimm cried out at the same time.
If this had been a normal fight, it would have been one thing. But the two of them had only stood there motionless, and one side suddenly started bleeding. Anyone watching would have been confused.
Under their worried gazes, Vane Ash waved a hand to show that he was fine. That was also the truth. He had not been struck by Wu Ling. Those injuries came from forcing himself too far.
After his first attack against Wu Ling, Vane Ash had understood that he could not hit him. In his eyes, Wu Ling seemed to split into three people, defending from three different directions. Even with Vane Ash's exquisite sword skill, he could not break through.
After that, the two continued attacking and defending. Wu Ling's attacks also split into three, and they came from three directions while carrying three completely different presences.
Because of that, Vane Ash spent the entire exchange on the defensive. He had to guard against Wu Ling's attacks, predict which of the three attacks was real and which were false, simulate how to block them, and use what little attention remained to think of a way through that flawless defense.
His mental energy drained at three times the usual speed.
Only when Wu Ling delivered that final strike did Vane Ash despairingly realize that all three attacks could be real.
After he predicted those three attacks, because they were too real, his body instinctively reflected the wounds from the simulated result.
To be honest, when Vane Ash first predicted three different attacks from three different directions, his first thought was that he was fighting someone with fractured minds.
But as those three attacks cooperated with perfect tacit understanding, he suppressed that idea. He understood that this was some kind of technique, perhaps something like the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's Seven Apertures Exquisite Heart method for divided focus, except Wu Ling's method was far stronger.
Vane Ash did not wipe away the blood at his lips. He raised his wooden sword and looked at the cracks that had appeared along the blade.
Then he said quietly, "I lost."
Defeating Vane Ash in technique did not fill Wu Ling with much excitement. After all, he had several Heroic Spirits teaching him through possession, and some among them were famous precisely for martial skill. If he still could not become the strongest martial artist on Soul Land, he would be unworthy of the Heroic Spirits who allowed him to summon them.
Seeing Wu Ling remain so calm, then thinking of his own former joy every time his strength improved, Vane Ash felt ashamed.
"Once, my targets were only my father and that person from Spirit Hall. After today, it seems I have one more."