Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Mountain-Back Sabre Technique

The shackles were invisible, yet Mingzhen seemed to see a storm of fragments swirling before his eyes.

A chilling laugh escaped him, but he was utterly unconcerned. Strange light flickered in his gaze, hidden beneath his outward appearance. He seemed gaunt as a corpse, his spirit deranged, nothing of his original compassion remaining.

With a thud, Mingzhen flicked his arm, rotating his elbow in a full circle. The air compressed with a crackling sound.

“You’re dead!” Mingzhen could feel a new, overwhelming strength coursing through his body. His heart swelled with power, and even the fact that he now possessed a skeleton’s form seemed trivial.

A sigh escaped Zhou Yi as he listened to Mingzhen’s laughter. An inexplicable sorrow rose from within him. In his mind flashed an image of what Mingzhen had once been, and he shook his head helplessly.

“But now’s not the time for lamentation,” Zhou Yi thought to himself. Gripping the tiger-head saber with force, his inner strength poured into the blade, which grew heavier in his hands.

His fingers stretched, enjoying the reassuring feel of the weapon.

With a boom, Mingzhen spread his arms wide, one hand striking toward Zhou Yi. The air was instantly swept aside, leaving a vacuum, and a palm hurtled straight at him.

In a flash, Zhou Yi drew his saber. Its gleaming arc lit the room, the edge sharp and cold, the massive blade glittering with a frosty sheen.

The moment steel met flesh, Zhou Yi’s body was thrown backward, arcing through the air before crashing heavily to the ground.

He landed with a tremendous crash but instantly set his mind right. Bracing himself with both hands, he sprang back to his feet.

As he rose, he spun his saber, wrist trembling with surging inner power. The blade resonated, echoing with the sound of crashing waves.

“Kao Shan Saber, First Stance—Cleave the Waves!”

The roar of the sea filled the inn, the thunderous surf seeming to roll from the saber itself—the sound of inner strength surging through the steel.

The tidal sound swept outward, enveloping the surroundings. The air was rendered visible, shimmering blue like seawater.

Countless times he had wielded the saber. Countless times he had struck. Countless times he had cleaved through. Countless times he had fallen, only to rise again.

These innumerable repetitions had forged Zhou Yi’s first stance of the Kao Shan Saber: Breaker of Waves.

With saber in hand and eyes unwavering, he believed he could cut through anything before him.

A cold snort from Mingzhen, who casually sent forth a palm imprint through the air. It began the size of a hand but, swelling with the wind, grew to the height of a man as it neared Zhou Yi—the five fingers alone wider than his head.

“Open!” Zhou Yi’s expression did not change. With a roar, he swung his blade down, just as he had faced the crashing waves so many times before.

The palm imprint struck, bearing down like a mountain. The force traveled through the blade into his body; it was as if, in that instant, he bore a mountain on his back.

The mountain was vast and grand, but above all, heavy—an endless weight pressed upon him. Every pore of his body seemed to whisper the same temptation: give up, surrender, and be freed from the burden.

“Give up? What a joke!” Zhou Yi’s eyes narrowed, his grip unwavering. A sense of compassion swirled in his heart, threatening to quench his fighting spirit. Coupled with the crushing weight, all conspired to extinguish his resolve.

Suddenly, fragments of Mingzhen’s past flashed through his mind. He recalled little, save for one phrase: Mingzhen, true disciple of the Bodhi Monastery, skilled in martial arts—the Thousand-Leaf Hands of Great Compassion.

“So, this must be the Thousand-Leaf Hands of Great Compassion,” Zhou Yi realized. The true power of this technique lay not in the force of the palm, but in the compassion it embodied.

That compassion could melt a person's will, erode their fighting spirit. Without resolve, without will, even the greatest martial skill was meaningless.

Thus, victory could be won without battle.

“What a formidable art. Anyone else might have yielded by now. Too bad I am not anyone else.” Zhou Yi smiled faintly. Everything he had now, he had earned through hardship. If he could be so easily worn down, it would all have been for nothing.

He uttered no more words. The palm imprint stood before him, locked in place against his blade. Zhou Yi smiled again, his arm exerting a subtle force.

With a rasping sound, the imprint split as easily as paper.

The Thousand-Leaf Hands of Great Compassion did not rely on force, but on the compassion within. If one could shatter that sense of mercy, the technique’s true power was lost.

Mingzhen did not seem concerned by the defeat of his palm. It was but one strike. You broke one, but can you break two? Three? I would see how many you can withstand.

Having refined his External Aspect with the Bodhi Banner, Mingzhen was now linked to heaven and earth, his inner strength inexhaustible—a perpetual motion machine. With such power, he could unleash as many palms as he pleased, and with the External Aspect’s support, even greater techniques were within his reach.

“I’m done playing with you.” Mingzhen’s pupils contracted; he drew a deep breath, bored and impatient. Focusing his energy, he brought his hands together before his chest. His eyes, seeming slow, closed and then snapped open in an instant. The inn was flooded with light.

Boom! Boom-boom! Boom-boom! Boom-boom!

His arms became a blur, forming a host of phantasmal limbs. From above and below, countless arms manifested at Mingzhen’s sides, and palm imprints rained down in a relentless storm toward Zhou Yi.

To unleash the full power of the Thousand-Leaf Hands of Great Compassion was simple enough. Though the intent behind it could not be heightened, the output of inner strength could. In the past, limited by his energy and body, Mingzhen could not unleash more than one palm at a time; thus, he relied on the compassion within the technique to prevail.

But now, united with the External Aspect, using it as both body and core, he was free from all constraints.

The External Aspect drew in the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, converting it to inner strength under Mingzhen’s command. He unleashed the Thousand-Leaf Hands of Great Compassion, casting palm imprints in every direction, each one three fathoms high.

Crash! Boom! Crack! The thunderous palms seemed almost solid, their power overwhelming. At the moment they appeared, the inn was obliterated. The mere overflow of force from the palms destroyed the building in an instant, leaving everyone exposed to the open sky.

“Breaker of Waves!”

Zhou Yi gripped his saber, toes digging into the earth. Power surged from his legs, transformed by inner strength, flowing to his arms. Focusing his mind, he slashed toward the oncoming storm of palms.

A single strike, his fingers trembling with the immense force he faced—enough to shatter stone and sever steel. Zhou Yi poured all his strength into cleaving the first palm imprint.

Yet, before he could rest, the second, third, and fourth palms followed in rapid succession.

“Breaker of Waves!”

“Breaker of Waves!”

“Breaker of Waves!”

There was no time to think. Channeling all his power, Zhou Yi gripped his saber tight, eyes resolute. He slashed three times in quick succession.

The three palm imprints shattered simultaneously, but an endless barrage followed. Zhou Yi’s arm trembled, his fingers nearly frozen around the hilt.

“This won’t do—if this goes on, there’ll be no end to it!” Zhou Yi thought grimly. “One after another, it’s endless—when will it ever stop?”

“There’s no other way!” Resolving himself, Zhou Yi gripped the saber with both hands. “If that’s the case, I’ll settle this with one final strike!”