After returning home, Ye Ling still ran off to the small grove whenever she had free time.
Now that her cultivation was already at the Houtian Ninth Layer, and both her cultivation method and martial arts had reached the state of Great Perfection, it would be difficult to make any major breakthroughs in the short term.
But she simply relished this feeling of being immersed in cultivation day after day.
The sitting in meditation, breathing, and repetitive sword practice that others found tedious were immensely enjoyable to her.
After finishing her seated meditation and regulating her breathing, she stood up to practice her movement technique first.
She had already practiced the Flowing Cloud Movement Technique countless times, and its steps were long since engraved into her instincts. Under her feet, the fallen leaves rustled softly.
She specifically sought out places with many tree roots, loose gravel, and potholes, going wherever the terrain was most difficult.
“Lower the center of gravity a bit more, make the turns a bit faster.”
She murmured to herself, repeatedly making adjustments.
After completing a run, she switched to a different training method. Darting back and forth among several trees, she challenged herself to step on the exact same leaf with every footfall.
At first, she was far off, but gradually she began to step precisely on target. Eventually, she could even do it with her eyes closed.
“This is just like practicing footwork in basketball. They call it being one with the ball; I call this being one with the trees.”
Having finished practicing her movement technique, she began to practice her fist techniques and swordplay.
The moves were already deeply engraved in her mind, yet every time she raised her hand to strike with her sword, she still carefully studied the intricacies.
When she thrust her sword, she pondered how to make the distribution of force and the angle of the strike even more precise.
When she threw a punch, she felt the flow of her inner strength, analyzing the point of impact and the changes in power.
She dismantled, practiced, and polished every single move over and over again, figuring out the most exquisite transitions between each technique.
Practicing and reflecting like this, the details of her martial arts became clearer and clearer in her heart, and her understanding of the Martial Dao silently accumulated without her realizing it.
A breeze swept through the woods as her figure rose and fell. Ye Ling was completely immersed, thoroughly enjoying herself.
“Isn't this way more interesting than grinding practice exams?”
During her leisure time, she chatted with her parents and heard quite a bit of news regarding the clan's recent events.
When the couple talked about the clan's people and affairs, the conversation naturally turned to Ye Chen.
The former universally acknowledged number-one genius of the Ye family, who had been stagnant for two years, had recently returned from cultivating in the Baiyun Mountain Range, and his cultivation had broken through to the Houtian Seventh Layer in one fell swoop.
“No one expected him to unleash such a massive buildup after accumulating for so long,” her mother marveled.
“On the day he returned, he ran into Ye Long, who used to bully him relying on his higher cultivation. The two fought on the spot, and Ye Chen defeated Ye Long with just a single strike of his sword.”
“The clan members present at the time were all dumbfounded, and the entire crowd went into an uproar. Everyone is saying that his buried talent has finally returned.”
Her father nodded along, his tone carrying a hint of emotion.
“Being stuck at the Houtian Third Layer for two whole years, everyone thought he would never be able to rise again.”
“Yet now, he has broken through several realms all at once and can even suppress someone with a single sword strike. It is indeed surprising.”
“Many in the clan are discussing it, saying that the Ye family is likely to have another top-tier junior.”
Ye Ling listened quietly. Her face remained expressionless, and there was hardly a ripple in her heart.
She had long known how formidable Ye Chen was, and she also knew that he possessed unusual techniques and was blessed with great providence.
With a cultivation at the Houtian Seventh Layer, coupled with abilities entirely different from the clan's inherited martial arts, it wasn't surprising at all that he could defeat Ye Long with a single sword strike.
“Isn't this just a textbook protagonist script? The useless failure counterattacks, turns the tables overnight, slaps the antagonist in the face, and shocks the entire crowd. All the elements are present, and the tropes are well-rehearsed.”
However, she didn't take it to heart. If others had miraculous encounters, so did she. They each had their own cheats; neither got in the other's way.
The autumn wind rustled, and the branches and leaves swayed gently.
Ye Ling stood holding her sword. Day after day of polishing had long since brought her Shaoshang Sword Technique to Great Perfection. Every move was deeply engraved in her heart, devoid of any flaws.
Once ordinary cultivators reached this stage, their martial techniques could no longer progress. Yet she remained tireless, repeatedly drawing, sheathing, and transitioning her sword.
She did not seek a sudden surge in her realm, choosing instead to quiet her mind and polish the details, contemplating the ultimate rhythm of the sword strikes.
The angle of the sword, the distribution of spiritual energy flow, the weight of the wrist's force, and that tiny gap between moves. She practiced and pondered them over and over again.
“It's just like playing a rhythm game. What you're chasing isn't clearing the stage, but that perfect rhythm.”
The tedious repetition in the eyes of others was, to her, the only path to touching the essence of the Martial Dao.
At the very moment she thrust out a seemingly ordinary sword strike.
“Hum!”
A subtle, clear sword chime echoed from deep within the blade. Though soft and faint, it penetrated straight to her heart and soul.
Ye Ling's mind suddenly went blank. All the surrounding sounds of the wind, the rustling leaves, and the chirping insects faded away.
It was as if only the sword in her hand and the trickles of spiritual energy flowing through her fingertips remained in the entire universe.
The sword moves engraved into her bones countless times, the experience of fighting and killing in numerous battles, and the insights from countless days and nights of bitter cultivation all suddenly merged and connected at this moment.
Her mind suddenly cleared, and she vaguely touched upon a new realm that transcended moves and techniques.
Sword Force.
There are realms in the Dao of the Sword. Technique is the form; Force is the soul.
Only when ordinary martial artists stepped into the Xiantian Realm, transforming their spiritual energy into astral qi, refining their souls, and becoming able to communicate with the power of heaven and earth, would they be qualified to touch the threshold of Sword Force.
This was an universally acknowledged ironclad rule of the Martial Dao. Houtian Realm martial artists had shackles on their physical bodies, spiritual energy, and souls, making it nearly impossible for them to glimpse the mysteries of Force in their entire lives.
Yet at this moment, Ye Ling, at the Houtian Ninth Layer, had stubbornly shattered this barrier of heaven and earth.
Although she had not fully comprehended a complete Sword Force, she had truly taken the most critical step.
Breaking through the mysterious pass, she achieved half-step Sword Force.
The light and shadows in the forest suddenly froze.
Although there was no wind, the branches and leaves of the entire small grove bowed slightly inward in unison.
All the air currents and spiritual energy involuntarily converged toward the sword in her hand.
Ye Ling slowly raised her sword. The blade was completely ordinary, without any surging spiritual energy or dazzling sword light.
Yet an invisible pressure—restrained, sharp, and condensed to the absolute limit—quietly enveloped the surroundings.
This was half-step Sword Force.
It was not a move, nor was it a burst of spiritual energy; rather, it was the leakage of the will of the Dao of the Sword.
Previously, when she struck with her sword, she relied on precise techniques, dense spiritual energy, and perfected moves—it was a deliberately executed killing blow.
But now, her every movement aligned with the true heart of the Dao of the Sword.
Where the blade pointed was where the sharp edge directed. Where her mind went was where the sword's power resided.
There was no need to deliberately gather strength or precisely control her moves; between raising her hand and lifting her sword, she naturally carried an indomitable, piercing sword intent.
Half-step Sword Force lacked the overbearing, heaven-shaking nature of a complete Sword Force, but it possessed more condensation, clarity, and ease of control.
Although she still could not harness the grand momentum of heaven and earth to crush her opponents, it could multiply the sharpness, guard-breaking capability, and penetration of every single sword strike several times over.
The flaws in her moves were completely reduced to zero, locking down her opponent's offensive and defensive rhythm.
If she were to battle someone, she wouldn't even need to strike; relying solely on this wisp of invisible Sword Force, she could make cultivators of the same realm tremble in their minds, slow down their movements, and lose the form of their sword techniques.
Before the fight even began, the opponent would already be cowed.
“Isn't this just like the aura pressure in gaming? When a pro player stands opposite you, even if they haven't done anything, you already feel like you've lost.”
She stood quietly in the forest, her fingertips gently caressing the blade, her eyes clear.
She clearly perceived the changes within her body and understood. Among the cultivators of the world, comprehending Force in the Xiantian Realm was already considered outstanding talent.
Yet she, with a Houtian body, had defied the Heavenly Dao to comprehend half-step Sword Force.
This foundation and talent had long since exceeded the cognition of the mundane martial path.
Even if Ye Chen had accumulated a massive buildup, possessed great providence, and revived his talent, the path he walked was, in the end, still the path of ordinary geniuses.
Meanwhile, she had already stood at a height others could not reach, carving out a martial path unique to herself.
“He's playing on normal mode, while I seem to have triggered a hidden achievement.”
The autumn wind rose again, fluttering the hem of her clothes.
That restrained, freezing Sword Force in the forest quietly retracted, entirely sealed within the blade and her mind.
Unrevealed and unassuming, it had already become her deepest trump card.
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