70:

In the soul space, Xiao Feng watched as Beast Master Zen blurred forward at a speed that reached the limits of what he could keep up with despite his promise to limit his strength to early foundation establishment stage for their spar.

Either it had been too long since Beast Master Zen had been at the early layers of the foundation establishment stage or he wanted to test him.

Regardless, Xiao Feng had not gone into the challenge intending to disappoint.

All the forms of the Flowing Wind Art were stored within the memory bank his predecessor had left him, but there was only one form Xiao Feng had practiced. A form that was precisely the reason why he’d asked Beast Master Zen to attack him in their spar, a form that he had made his own.

Flowing Wind Art— Fourth Form, Dancing Breeze.

As he had practiced before, Xiao Feng directed his Wind Qi to loop around his blade, intending to form coils of wind that would rebuff the momentum of his opponent’s strike; only for him to nearly lose control on the first step.

He had known that Windcarver was a peak-layer foundation establishment artifact, but neither Xiao Feng nor his predecessor had truly known what that classification meant until he channeled Qi into it.

The artifact’s wind attunement properties told him that his Wind Qi would be amplified, but Xiao Feng had not expected such a pronounced increase in raw effectiveness. Moreover, while he was in his soul space, the process of willing Wind Qi to flow from his dantian, passing through two acupuncture points through his meridians before it extended outside his body was seamless, lacking the usual resistance and force of will to direct it.

Bring your Qi under control. Focus, His predecessor commanded from within the soul space, where he was essentially next to him, snapping Xiao Feng back from the dazed awe he felt for his artifact.

He reinforced his will over the torrential Wind Qi that wished to rampage outwards and to his surprise, it complied with only the barest amounts of resistance. Coils of compressed wind wrapped around his blade’s edge, ensconcing it within.

A cool breeze on a sweltering hot day. A wind incapable of causing harm, a wind that does not cleave yet refuses to be sundered, Xiao Feng recalled his predecessor’s words from when he was explaining the fourth form of the Flowing Wind Art.

His gaze turned to his opponent, towards Beast Master Zen who was charging at him with his staff serving as a battering ram that was propelled by Wind Qi. If he got hit, it would certainly leave a bruise or two.

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Xiao Feng positioned his blade to intercept the base of Beast Master’s Zen staff. He should’ve been nervous considering that it was his first proper combat encounter with real artifacts, but the soul space had created a layer of separation from his body that allowed him to think clearly without worrying.

His body obeyed the soul’s command in what felt like real-time, the boundary between thought and action the thinnest it had ever been in the soul space

The wind coils wrapped around Xiao Feng’s blade met Beast Master Zen’s staff. For a moment, all was still as the two opposing winds reached equilibrium.

Then, Xiao Feng began to push back against Beast Master Zen’s assault through gritted teeth. Beast Master Zen’s eyes widened in surprise as he was pushed back by the coils of Wind Qi wrapped around Xiao Feng’s blade.

A moment later, Beast Master Zen was forced to disengage as the fourth form of the Flowing Wind Art pushed him back by a few more steps.

It was a gentle wind that rebuffed Beast Master Zen, one that had pushed him back instead of violently sending him careening away from Xiao Feng.

The latter would be a far more desirable outcome on the battlefield, but this was Xiao Feng’s own Dao, born of a life spent in a world that was largely at peace.

Once again, Beast Master Zen charged. Once again, Xiao Feng rebuffed his attempt. The spar went on and the Beast Master began to employ a staff form of his own, one that involved a series of quick thrusts in rapid succession before pulling back and repeating the attacks at a different angle.

Beast Master Zen’s staff form was getting increasingly unpredictable as the spar went on and Xiao Feng had begun to suspect that the only reason he could keep up was improved perception in the soul space.

As Xiao Feng grew weary of the continuous attacks on top of the Wind Qi expenditure he was forced to keep going, Beast Master Zen abruptly pulled back, throwing him off his tempo. Before he could recover, the Beast Master followed through with a heavy thrust that stretched both of his arms to their limit.

Surprisingly, Xiao Feng’s efforts to prepare for the thrust were in vain, as the staff struck empty air to his right.

Instead of elation, Xiao Feng only felt confusion. The only way this spar was possible was because Beast Master Zen was holding back heavily. There was no way he’d miss.

Sure enough, the missed thrust was only setting the stage for a sweeping strike aimed at his abdomen.

Right, Xiao Feng wryly thought. Had he not been in his soul space, the only possible move he could make was a hurried parry.

Now though, Xiao Feng saw a different opening he could just barely exploit.

He hurriedly backstepped, his body obeying the thought command with a minimal delay, hoping that he had calculated correctly as switched to a high guard stance, with his sword held above his head so it would not interfere with the trajectory of the staff.

Xiao Feng had just barely managed the maneuver, a fact that he was reminded of as the flat end of the staff brushed against his robes. Just as the staff passed by him, a smile began to tug at the corners of his lips as he brought down Windcarver in a diagonal slash while maintaining the fourth form of the Flowing Wind Art.

The far end of the staff was already the furthest from Beast Master Zen’s center of control, so Xiao Feng wasn’t surprised to see it slip out of his grip and be sent flying when his Wind Qi ensconced blade pushed the staff in the direction it’s momentum was already flowing.

Beast Master Zen stood there with a blank look, as stunned as he was disarmed.