He Zhiling lost because he lost his nerve during the duel.
As the saying goes, when two meet on a narrow path, the braver one prevails. He Zhiling only knew how to turtle up and defend, never trying to attack. This allowed Zhou Fang to attack without restraint, completely letting loose.
As oneâs strength waned and the otherâs grew, how could He Zhiling possibly avoid defeat?
If He Zhiling had possessed even a shred of fighting spirit, daring to trade blow for blow in a life-or-death struggle, Zhou Fang might still have won, but not so easily. He certainly wouldnât have severed He Zhilingâs arm without suffering a scratch himself.
This was especially true for the final move. Zhou Fang had thrust his sword straight for He Zhilingâs throat. According to the standard principles of offense and defense in the Martial Dao, He Zhiling shouldnât have brought his saber back to defend himself, because at his speed, he couldnât possibly succeed.
Instead, he should have switched from defense to offense and counter-attacked Zhou Fangâs vital points. At the very least, he should have swung his saber back at Zhou Fangâs sword-wielding right arm.
[Wind Chasing Saber Technique Cultivation Progress has increased.]
[Skills: Wind Chasing Saber Technique (Great Success 589/10000)]
A system notification materialized in mid-air.
Chen Cheng couldnât help but feel a surge of joy. âSo after the Wind Chasing Saber Technique reached the Great Success Level, I can gain progress just by watching and understanding other peopleâs duels? And it was a seven-point increase, just like that!â
âReaching the Perfection realm for the Wind Chasing Saber Technique is just around the corner!â
âThe future is bright!â
"Sigh..." Zhou Fang sighed softly, sheathed his Longsword, and walked toward the edge of the field. With a look of utter boredom, he said, "I thought youâd be a worthy opponent. Turns out youâre just a pewter spearhead painted silverâall flash and no substance. How utterly dull."
"Forget it. This young master wonât trouble you further. You should watch yourself."
At this, his tone suddenly shifted, and his gaze turned vicious and cruel.
"Remember this: donât you dare act arrogant in front of me again. Otherwise, what happened to He Zhiling will be your fate!"
One had to admit, the man was a master of provocation. Every word was a dagger to the heart.
Even many of the spectators and constables on the sidelines felt a secret indignation. âJust because youâre strong, canât you be a little more humble?â
Of course, they only dared to think such things. No one there was stronger than him, and sticking your neck out would only lead to disaster.
"Who said I was withdrawing?" Chen Chengâs voice wasnât loud, yet it boomed like a thunderclap on a clear day, echoing across the training grounds for all to hear, crystal clear.
A brilliant light once again flashed in Shen Qingshuangâs beautiful eyes. Even if Chen Cheng didnât win, his courage to press forward without a hint of retreat already set him far apart from ordinary men.
Meanwhile, Liu Yunfeng, Liao San, and Chen Chengâs other friends were all secretly anxious.
"Ah Cheng, donât act on impulse. You know what they say: endure the storm now, and youâll find a wide-open sea later," Liao San urged in a low voice, tugging on Chen Chengâs sleeve.
Chen Cheng smiled. "Itâs alright, Third Brother. This assessment match isnât a fight to the death. How will I know if I canât do it if I donât even try?"
"Damn it... why wonât you listen, you kid!" Liao San slapped his thigh in frustration. He pointed to the prominent scar on his face and pleaded, "Ah Cheng, I know youâre young and hot-headed, unwilling to admit defeat. Your Third Brother was no different back in the day. Look at this scar! Iâve learned my lessons the hard way."
Chen Cheng replied just as sincerely, "Third Brother, I know you mean well, but the assessment for official constable is very important to me. If I miss this chance, who knows how long Iâll have to wait for the next one. Iâll just give it a try. If it looks bad, Iâll concede."
This was the truth. While the official constable assessment was important, Chen Cheng wasnât about to risk his life for it.
âThe only reason Iâm going to fight is that Iâm 99% certain I can win.â
âOf course, that 99% figure was a conservative estimate. After all, who in this world can guarantee anything with absolute certainty?â
âIâm wearing Iron Armor, which has superb defensive capabilities. Even against a Perfect Martial Artist of the Skin Grinding Realm, I should be able to retreat unscathed.â
âBesides, this is just an assessment. Powerful Martial Dao experts like Shen Qingshuang are present. If Zhou Fangâs strength truly is at Skin Grinding Realm Perfection and Iâm outmatched, I can simply withdraw.â
Liao San knew Chen Cheng had made up his mind and didnât try to persuade him further. He just said gravely, "Ah Cheng, be careful. If you see itâs a lost cause, just concede."
"Got it," Chen Cheng replied.
"Heh, this Chen Cheng really doesnât know his own limits," Zhou Xu remarked lazily from the stands, his eyes filled with ridicule.
Shen Qingshuang shot him a glance but didnât deign to reply. She had already made up her mind: if Chen Cheng was in any real danger, she would call a halt to the match.
âNo matter what, I canât let a talent like Chen Cheng get hurt.â
When Chen Cheng decided to fight, the spectators and the City Guard Department constables felt a surge of passion. Their gazes toward Chen Cheng were filled with utter admiration.
Only Zhou Fangâs expression darkened, his gaze turning vicious and cruel once more.
"Chen Cheng, I have to admit, I underestimated your courage. Since you dare to make an enemy of me, donât blame me for being ruthless!"
As he spoke, Zhou Fang walked back to the center of the field and took his stance. He pointed his Longsword at Chen Cheng, his eyes brimming with killing intent.
Yes, killing intent. He felt he had been gravely offended. A nameless rage burned in his chest, and only by cutting Chen Cheng down with his sword could he possibly quell it.
"This is a spar. Pull your punches!" Shen Qingshuang finally couldnât help but call out from the stands.
Zhou Fang sneered. "Lord Shen, blades have no eyes. If Chen Cheng is afraid to die, you can let him withdraw right now."
"Hmph!" Shen Qingshuang snorted and said no more.
Holding his Long Saber, Chen Cheng slowly walked step-by-step to stand opposite Zhou Fang. His face was expressionless as he observed his opponentâs every move.
As Zhou Fang met Chen Chengâs deep, pitch-black, abyss-like eyes, his heart suddenly lurched. Those eyes were far too calm, far too composed.
It was like a predator sizing up its prey before the hunt. And at this moment, he, Zhou Fang, was the prey.