Contending for the Blade

Rumor has long had it that the saber "State's Sorrow" was forged by melting down the imperial jade seal. Whoever manages to draw it is blessed by the national fortune. When the blade clears its scabbard, the roar of a dragon echoes through the air, yellow and purple atmospheric wisps entwine around the wielder's body, and golden lotuses spring up beneath their feet. This magically bolsters their fortune and aids their cultivation, all converging upon the national master who holds the blade. At the same time, it is equivalent to shouldering the heavy responsibility of guarding the nation.

Back then, the former emperor of the Chen dynasty shattered the jade seal simply to bestow a great favor upon Zhang Mingze. Even when Zhang Mingze was pacifying lost territories and carving out new borders, he remained a modest second-rank official. Measured against the military and the martial world, he might have been considered a minor expert, but how could a dignified grand general of a nation and commander-in-chief of three armies not be a grandmaster? Zhang Mingze had established immortal contributions in defending the country. For the Chen family monarchs—who had always been broad-minded and willing to sacrifice their personal interests for the greater good of the world—neither the former emperor nor Chen Liuren, who was merely an imperial prince at the time, held the slightest shred of selfishness. They had generously handed over such a great opportunity without a second thought.

Moreover, the more vast the territory of a nation, the more formidable the national fortune contained within its imperial jade seal. In the case of State's Sorrow, six more such blades could still be forged across the realm. Yet, one might ask among all the kings of the world, who else possessed the magnanimity of the Chen family emperor?

However, rumors were ultimately just rumors. How many people had actually witnessed Zhang Mingze drawing the saber? How could one not say it was an exaggeration by those with ulterior motives? Just like at this moment, Zhang Ling raised his hand to carefully examine this renowned saber, ranked second under heaven.

The blade body was predominantly a bright silvery hue, with dark golden threads inlaid along the spine. A faint, elusive purple mist seemed to mingle with the edge upon touch.

Zhang Ling looked it over from all angles and contemplated it meticulously. Aside from being sharper than ordinary swords and sabers, there was nothing extraordinary about it.

Zhang Hongshan, who had hurried along to catch up, was equally dumbfounded at the sight.

The three people present all knew that after Zhang Mingze, no one else had ever drawn this saber. Only Zhang Ling knew in his heart that State's Sorrow had not acknowledged him as its master, though as for the reason why, even he himself did not know.

Zhang Ling said faintly, "The second-best saber under heaven? It doesn't look all that special to me!"

Zhang Qizhou was filled with disbelief. How could State's Sorrow ever approve of a person like this? He roared, "Impossible!"

Zhang Ling chuckled softly, "What is 'impossible'? Heh, you don't need to chase me anymore now. State's Sorrow has acknowledged its master, so it belongs to me."

Zhang Qizhou shouted angrily, "Put the saber down! You don't deserve it!"

Zhang Ling sneered, "What? Unconvinced? If you're unconvinced, come and take it!"

Zhang Qizhou flicked his sleeves, curled his forearms, leaned his upper body forward, and thrust out a hand straight toward State's Sorrow in Zhang Ling's grip.

Zhang Ling smiled. Holding a sharp weapon for the very first time, one could never resist the urge to swing it about. Closing his eyes for a split second, he recalled a set of saber formations he had seen Du Haifan use with deep intent. After a month of groping in the dark and seeking clarification from Song Qingtian, Zhang Ling had finally managed to grasp a superficial understanding of it. Yet these very moves, which were utterly worthless to a grandmaster, were treated like precious treasures by newcomers like them.

Using State's Sorrow to delineate the "Birdcage" saber formation was originally a defensive formation, but Zhang Ling had exploited the gaps to extract some of its essential defensive moves, adding tiny pin-pricks onto the empty barriers. To two saber grandmasters, this might just be a clever little trick off the beaten path, but wielded by Zhang Ling, it was executed with pinpoint precision.

Unfortunately, Zhang Ling only had a single saber, whereas a proper saber formation necessarily required more than one. Even so, this was already the best defensive move available to him at present.

The Birdcage was not unassailable, but the moment Zhang Qizhou made contact, a scratch was carved onto his palm. Drawing back his momentum to retreat, he intended to search for another flaw. Yet, after holding the line for a single round, Zhang Ling also ceased his saber-dancing. This caused Zhang Qizhou immense vexation; the brief moment of observation just now was simply insufficient to break through this simplified defensive Birdcage formation.

Zhang Qizhou grew instantly annoyed and snapped, "Let's see how many times you can defend against this!"

Zhang Ling kept a careful tally in his heart. Although this formation combined both offense and defense, the energy consumption was only slightly lower than the Overbearing Saber Technique and the Three Styles of Wind-Rift. Given Zhang Ling's current internal energy, he truly could not use it many times. When Zhang Qizhou attacked once more, Zhang Ling left a phantom afterimage in place and waited precisely for his opponent to strike empty air. Zhang Ling raised his left hand, and five concealed projectiles shot out simultaneously—one aimed at the center of the brow, one at the neck, and the remaining three targeting the joints.

Zhang Qizhou reacted swiftly, swirling his folded sleeves downward. Drawing circles with both sleeves, he stirred up a gust of clear wind that effortlessly caught and intercepted all five hidden weapons.

Looking from afar, Zhang Ling taunted playfully, "Not bad! But let's see how you dodge this time!"

From Zhang Ling's hand, three flying needles of differing shapes were suddenly hurled forth. Yet this time, none of the three silver-falling needles targeted vital points or joints; they looked entirely random.

Zhang Qizhou snorted in disdain, preparing to wrap them up with another sweep of his sleeves—expecting to scoop them all up as a matter of course. But just as he leveled both sleeves, the three needles changed direction, launching a surprise attack upon him from completely different angles. This time, it was no longer possible to catch them smoothly.

Knowing something was amiss, Zhang Qizhou instinctively retreated step by step. When the three falling-silver needles missed and clustered together, he wanted to seize the opportunity to grab them. Regrettably, one of the needles retained its momentum and continued straight toward his heart. If he disregarded the heavy injury from that single needle, he could indeed capture the other two. But as a dignified Vice Minister of War, how could he possibly engage in such a disastrous, all-or-nothing trade? Under these circumstances, Zhang Qizhou had no choice but to fling his body backward and withdraw.

He and the flying needles were separated by a considerable distance. Had they been any further away, even Zhang Ling would have felt lingering palpitations, and he could only recall them.

Faced with a situation where there was a disparity in cultivation ranks, Zhang Ling's deployment of several peculiar methods made his sparring match with his own second uncle appear effortless. After several rounds, he showed not the slightest sign of falling behind. However, Zhang Ling knew very well that ultimate techniques consumed vast amounts of energy, and controlling flying needles was no different. If this dragged on any longer, he would definitely not come out ahead.

With Zhang Ling's current martial prowess, if he wanted to leave, this second uncle of his would certainly not be able to stop him. But after all, he was creating trouble for the Emperor; fleeing just like that would truly be disgraceful. Moreover, the loss of State's Sorrow would inevitably shake the imperial court to its core, so Zhang Ling had no choice but to stay.

He had to stay and wait for people to arrive—wait until everyone knew that State's Sorrow was in his hands, and furthermore, in its unsheathed state.

After calming his internal Qi, Zhang Qizhou finally realized something was amiss. Frowning, he demanded, "First it was some supreme saber technique of unknown origin, and then it was the manipulation of flying needles. Ordinary factions absolutely do not possess this kind of capital. Speak, just who are you? Why did you steal State's Sorrow?"

Zhang Ling chuckled and said, "Didn't you see? State's Sorrow has acknowledged its master; how can you call this stealing? On the contrary, it is you—State's Sorrow is a national sacred artifact, yet it refuses to acknowledge you, and you insist on forcibly claiming it as your own. What on earth is your motive?"

Zhang Qizhou angrily retorted, "Even if it means letting State's Sorrow gather dust, I will never hand it over to someone of unknown background like you!"

Zhang Ling hooked a finger and taunted mockingly, "If you're unconvinced, come again!"

Anger surged within Zhang Qizhou's heart, and just as he was about to step forward, Zhang Hongshan suddenly grabbed him from behind.

Gazing at this young man of unknown origin, Zhang Hongshan felt an inexplicable surge of fondness. Yet, he suppressed that hazy emotion and said, "Little brother, since you have drawn State's Sorrow, then it belongs to you. However, you should also know that State's Sorrow does not belong to the Zhang family alone. If it inexplicably goes missing, there will undoubtedly be a massive manhunt, and by then, I'm afraid you won't even be able to protect yourself."

Pretending to take the advice to heart, Zhang Ling asked, "Oh, I wonder what brilliant advice Minister Zhang might have?"