Chapter 121: The Slash of No Thought

Chapter 121: Chapter 121: The Slash of No Thought

Outside Cangren City, dust filled the air as an enlarged version of a youth in martial attire stepped out from the haze.

He had a ruddy complexion, blood-red eyes, and a face that, while filled with Evil Qi, remained handsome.

Although his body had expanded in a short time, his clothes could transform at will, so there was no risk of them bursting.

"So that’s Fang Can!"

"He really has the air of a rising star. Look at that physique—it’s seriously impressive."

"And those bulging muscles! They must be filled with explosive power!"

...

As Fang Can appeared, the surrounding Martial Artist onlookers broke into a flurry of discussion.

Compared to his original 1.8-meter frame, this new 2.2-meter physique was much more in line with the aesthetic of these Martial Artists.

After all, before the Heaven-Ascending Road, one still had to abide by the basic rules. Fundamentally, the more muscular you were, the better you could fight.

If you were three meters tall, you’d be considered an unparalleled master of the Transcendent Body Realm without question—the kind who, at the First Layer, could directly suppress someone at the Third Layer.

Watching the high-spirited youth before him, Fu Yuxiang, ranked 257th, furrowed his brow as a flicker of genuine anger ignited in his heart.

"You must be Fang Can, the one who narrowly defeated Wan Chenyu. I’m sure your strength will be quite entertaining," Fu Yuxiang said, his tone firm and certain.

News had already spread while he was on his way: Fang Can of the Rising Dragon Rankings had defeated Wan Chenyu. That was what had piqued his interest enough to come fight; otherwise, crushing a weakling would be no fun at all.

"Let’s just get this started. I’m in a hurry!" Fang Can said succinctly, then glanced to the side. "Is that other person over there going to join in too?"

His words were ignored. Fu Yuxiang remained unmoved.

The moment his right hand touched the long saber at his waist, all his emotions were reined in.

He was like a spring compressed to its absolute limit, waiting for that single instant to uncoil.

Fu Yuxiang gripped the saber’s hilt, his expression devoid of joy or sorrow. "Be careful, Fang Can."

"This slash of mine is going to be magnificent."

As his words fell, a blinding flash of light from his saber erupted in everyone’s vision.

It was the Heaven-Soaring Shocking Wave Slash, a saber technique he had created himself from the profound insights he’d gained while meditating on a reef, contemplating the ebb and flow of tides and the rising and setting of the sun and moon.

This slash was not merely the pinnacle of the secular Martial Dao; it was also infused with his Heart Image.

Fu Yuxiang was not the scion of a great clan. His family lacked the foundational Cultivation Techniques to support his training.

Because of the limitations of his clan’s Cultivation Techniques, the highest he could cultivate to in the Transcendent Body stage was the Profound Gate Eighth Layer.

In his cultivation, aside from basic guidance, everything else he had comprehended on his own.

Unlike Wan Chenyu, who learned his clan’s method for consolidating his Heart Image, the unguided Fu Yuxiang chose to completely merge his own Heart Image into his saber technique.

The cost of this slash was also staggering.

Even at his current Realm of the Profound Gate Eighth Layer, he could only execute it three times at full power.

But it didn’t matter. That was enough.

After all, for someone from a minor clan like him, how could he have any chips to sit at the same gambling table with the scions of those powerful, great clans if he didn’t risk everything?

If you didn’t risk your life, you wouldn’t even have the right to take a seat at the table.

Therefore, he was all offense and no defense, putting everything he had into it.

Once those three slashes were done, his Heart Image would be exhausted, leaving him completely at another’s mercy.

It was kill or be killed.

Faced with this self-sacrificing slash, even someone like Wan Chenyu, no matter how well he fortified his inner self, would have his defenses torn open.

This was also why he was ranked higher than Wan Chenyu.

The Hidden Dragon Rankings were a measure of individual combat prowess, ignoring any influence from the Heaven-Ascending Road.

Perhaps against multiple opponents, Wan Chenyu, who had practiced Body Refining since childhood, could last longer.

But in the eyes of the Celestial Secret Tower, if it were a one-on-one duel using only common weapons and no Sacrificial Artifacts, Wan Chenyu would be the one to die in the end.

And he would die three times.

Because against the Heaven-Soaring Shocking Wave Slash, the current Fu Yuxiang could kill one Wan Chenyu with each strike.

It was like how a chef, after pouring their heart and soul into a dish, could create food that literally glowed.

The profound concept contained within this slash was like a roaring tsunami.

Humankind is insignificant before the might of nature.

Though it was only a single slash, everyone felt as if they were fighting against the world itself, facing down a terrifying tsunami dozens of meters high.

By the time the crowd reacted, the slash had already descended.

But only now did the terror, the lingering fear, and the shock begin to well up in their minds like a rising tide.

They all realized with stark clarity that if they had been the one facing that slash, they would have died.

"That slash of yours is somewhat interesting."

An indifferent voice cut through the air, startling everyone out of the shadow of death.

The crowd looked toward the source of the voice and saw Fang Can’s palm clamped firmly around the saber’s blade, a look of genuine surprise in his eyes.

Seeing Fang Can’s effortless action, the most shocked person wasn’t Fu Yuxiang himself—number 257—but his followers.

’How is that possible? He caught a serious slash from our god with his bare hand!’

Or rather, it wasn’t just shock; it was tinged with a thread of fear—the fear of their god’s defeat.

Because everyone had been immersed in that slash that seemed to burn away the user’s very Heart Image, no one saw when Fang Can had made his move or how he had blocked it.

The Martial Artists standing on either side of him and to his rear subconsciously touched their clothes.

The gale whipped up by Fu Yuxiang’s slash had condensed into a fine line, slicing through their garments from over ten meters away.

Faint red marks had appeared on their skin; the attack had almost cleaved them in two from afar.

"However, while it has some artistic concept, everything else about it is a complete mess."

As he spoke, Fang Can released his grip. He watched Fu Yuxiang’s body retreat several steps, like a bird startled by the twang of a bow.

His eyes were filled with vigilance. Ever since he had made a name for himself, none of his opponents had ever caught his signature slash as easily as Fang Can.

"That slash focuses too much on intent. Aside from crushing weaklings, it’s a joke against an opponent of the same Realm."

As Fang Can spoke, his body began to shrink back to its normal size. "It seems I overestimated you. You really aren’t worthy of me using my full strength."

While speaking, Fang Can’s gaze shifted downward. On the bone-white panel before him, a piece of information flashed by.

Description:

Comprehended: "Unknown Saber Intent"

Saber Intent successfully merged with the host’s Heart Image.

...

"That’s not how you use a saber."

"Even if you’re only focusing on imagery, you’re not extreme enough. But since your attitude is decent, I’ll teach you."

As Fang Can spoke, he opened his palm and raised it slightly, his gaze locking onto Fu Yuxiang’s body from afar.

’Here it comes. Is it a palm technique...?’

Seeing Fang Can’s raised, fair-skinned palm, Fu Yuxiang’s vigilance skyrocketed, and a do-or-die intent surged from the depths of his heart.

’I still have two slashes left. I’ll bet it all.’

A look of utter resolve flashed in Fu Yuxiang’s eyes. ’If I can withstand this palm strike and survive—whether my organs rupture or my brain splatters—as long as I can still swing my saber, I still have a chance.’

’Since you think I’m not extreme enough, then I’ll risk my life to fight one more...’

In the next moment, Fu Yuxiang’s expression froze. He was stunned, because what he saw in front of him was a saber.

It wasn’t just him; everyone present saw a pitch-black long saber materialize before their eyes, radiating a chilling cold and the intent of death.

It was Fang Can’s saber intent—a saber intent unleashed from the palm of his hand.