chsdbacks Chapter 345 Gap
Chapter 345 Gap
While others were recounting their battle achievements, from the name of their swords to their size, weight, and number of kills, practically reciting their entire resume, showing off to the fullest. He, on the other hand, simply said, "I forgot."
It's not very harmful.
It is extremely insulting.
As expected, Sato Ittosai's face instantly darkened.
That wasn't just a normal "unpleasant expression," but a deep-seated gloom that came from being openly humiliated. His lips were downturned, his eyes twitched slightly, and his hand gripping "Blood Cherry" tightened unconsciously, his knuckles turning white.
His eyes flashed with murderous intent.
The murderous intent didn't rise slowly; it surged up like someone pouring a bucket of oil into a fire, erupting with a "whoosh." The temperature around him seemed to drop a few degrees, but it wasn't cold; it was a chilling, menacing malice that sent shivers down one's spine.
"Arrogant!"
He let out a low growl.
He stomped his foot hard!
"Click—"
A ring of cracks appeared on the cement ground, and gravel flew in all directions! The cracks were not a single line, but a spider web pattern radiating outwards from the point where the foot landed, with the furthest one extending more than two meters away.
He charged straight at Nie Lingfeng like a cannonball, with an indomitable and devastating momentum!
Before the person arrived, the intent of the blade was already there.
The sharp, piercing blade intent was like a tangible blade, cutting through the air with a hissing sound. It wasn't a single "hiss," but a continuous, dense sound, as if dozens of blades were simultaneously slicing through the air.
"Ittōryu·Iai·Yan Hui!"
Blade flash—
Like lightning piercing the night sky.
It's like the final swoop of a swift returning to its nest—the swift doesn't fly high or fast, but in the instant it returns to its nest, its speed suddenly increases to the extreme, so fast that your eyes can't keep up.
Poignant.
Resolute.
It's faster than the limits of vision!
To the onlookers, all they saw was Sato Ittosai drawing his sword, charging forward, and slashing—the three movements seemingly flowing into one. The process was so fast that their brains hadn't even had time to process the information their eyes were receiving before the battle had already begun.
All that could be seen was a stunningly beautiful, blood-red arc of light that seemed capable of severing space, instantly traversing the distance of several meters between the two and slashing towards Nie Lingfeng's neck!
This strike—
It encapsulates his life's cultivation.
A high degree of unity of spirit, energy, and vitality.
That was his most powerful strike.
This is also the true meaning of his name "Ittosai"—one strike decides life and death! There's no need for a second strike, because the first one is enough. If the first strike misses, it means his blade isn't fast enough, sharp enough, and unworthy of a second strike.
Faced with this astonishing, seemingly all-encompassing strike—
Nie Lingfeng made a move.
He neither retreated nor dodged.
He simply raised the Snow Drinking Blade in his hand.
The movements are slow.
It could even be described as slow and casual.
It's like casually picking up a branch to block a falling leaf, or like stretching after waking up from a nap.
There was no effort, no breath control, no adjustment of breathing. It just happened naturally and casually, and the body was lifted up.
But it was this slow, casual raising of the sword—
Yet, with perfect precision, it blocked the lightning-fast, blood-red blade.
"clang--!!!"
A long, clear, and resonant sound, like the roar of a dragon, echoed throughout the entire hall!
The sound didn't just disappear with a "ding," but lasted for a very long time, reflecting and echoing between the walls, making people's eardrums buzz, as if a large bell was being struck next to their ears.
Sato Ittōsai's "Swallow Return," a technique that embodied his life's work and was confident could cut through anything—
It was blocked!
The ice skate, a deep blue color, looked crystal clear and fragile, like a work of art bought from a winter festival—
It blocked it with a nonchalant gesture!
Where the blades clashed, a trail of blinding sparks erupted!
The sparks weren't just a few scattered points, but a long string, like a lit fuse, shooting out in both directions from the point of contact between the blades, tracing a bright arc with a "whoosh."
A violent shockwave exploded outwards from the two people, causing everyone's clothes to flutter wildly. With a whoosh, a gust of wind swept by, kicking up dust and gravel from the ground. Those closest to the scene instinctively squinted.
Sato Ittosai's pupils suddenly contracted.
For the first time, an expression of disbelief appeared on his face.
It's not shock—shock gives you time to think.
It was a more primitive, more instinctive reaction: his mind went blank, all his experience and predictions were overturned in that instant, he didn't know what had happened, he only knew that his knife had been blocked.
He felt as if he had struck not a knife, but something else entirely.
It's an iceberg.
An iceberg, submerged at the bottom of the sea for thousands of years, hardened to the point of being harder than steel. The moment the blade struck it, he didn't hear the sound of metal clashing, but instead felt a heavy, cold, and indestructible "resistance."
The force of the impact from the blade was heavy, cold, and incredibly solid, as if someone had smashed it down with a hammer. The shock made his wrist go numb—from his wrist bone to his elbow joint, his entire forearm was numb, as if he had been shocked with a stun gun.
The tiger's mouth was in excruciating pain.
Looking down, he saw a small gash in the web of his hand, from which blood was seeping and flowing down the hilt of the sword. The blood was warm, but it was quickly cooled by the chill emanating from the "Blood Cherry" blade.
I almost lost my grip on the knife!
Even more frightening is-
An indescribable chill, as if capable of freezing the soul, surged along the blade!
The chill didn't come from the blade—it came from Nie Lingfeng's "intention." It pierced through the blade of "Blood Cherry," through Sato Ittosai's right hand holding the sword, through his wrist, forearm, elbow, and shoulder—instantly invading his entire right arm!
Half of my body is stiff!
It wasn't just cold—he had experienced Siberian winters and knew what cold was.
It was a kind of "stagnation," as if something had frozen in his blood vessels, causing his blood to stop flowing, his vital energy to stop circulating, and even his nerve signals to be frozen. He tried to move his fingers, only to find that they didn't feel like his own.
"How is that possible?!"
He was horrified.
How could his peak strike be blocked so easily?
Can't even get the other party to take a step back?
"Too slow."
Nie Lingfeng's voice rang out calmly.
With a hint of disappointment.
That disappointment wasn't feigned; it was genuine, heartfelt disappointment. It was like the disappointment of someone who spent a lot of money on a movie ticket, went in, watched twenty minutes, and then found the movie was bad.
Before the words were finished—
Nie Lingfeng flicked his wrist slightly.
It's not a forceful shake, but a gentle one, like shaking off water droplets from a knife.
The icy blue aura on the Snow Drinking Blade suddenly erupted!
An overwhelming force, mixed with a bone-chilling cold, crashed down on Sato Ittōsai along the "Blood Cherry" blade, like an iceberg collapsing or a tsunami surging back.
The power didn't emanate from Nie Lingfeng—it came from the Snow Drinking Blade itself. It was as if the blade had been waiting for this battle for a long time, holding back its full power, and now it could finally unleash its full potential.
Sato Ittosai grunted.
I felt an irresistible force coming at me, as if I had been pushed—not by a person, but by a mountain.
He involuntarily staggered backward.
The first step, "bang," the footprint sank half an inch.
The second step, "bang," it sank another half inch.
The third step, "bang," the tread pattern of the shoe sole was clearly imprinted on the cement ground.
Step 4, Step 5, Step 6, Step 7 —
Each step left a deep footprint on the hard concrete floor, as if a giant had trodden it. Tiny cracks extended outwards from the edges of the footprints, caused by the force of the pressure.
He retreated seven steps.
He barely managed to steady himself.
His right arm, which held the knife, trembled slightly—not from fear, but because the recoil from the previous impact was so strong that his muscles were still spasming.
The tiger's mouth was already split open, and fresh blood flowed down the hilt of the knife, dripping onto the gravel at his feet, blooming into small dark red flowers.
Quiet.
A deathly silence.
It wasn't the kind of silence where "no one speaks," but a silence where "everyone has forgotten to breathe." It was as if the air in their lungs had been sucked out by something; their chests were flat, their mouths were open, but no one thought to inhale.
Everyone stared wide-eyed, looking at the scene in disbelief.
Sato Ittosai's earth-shattering "Swallow Return"—which seemed capable of severing everything—
How could Nie Lingfeng have blocked it so casually?
He was even forced back seven steps?
Seven steps!
That's Sato Ittōsai! The one who ripped open Yuri the Bear Country's "Grey Wolf" with a single slash, the Sato Ittōsai whose swordsmanship was divine! His full-force slash was blocked with a casual flick of the wrist, and he was even knocked back seven steps?
"No...impossible!"
Fujiwara Sousuke cried out in disbelief.
His voice had changed; it was no longer the steady, calm hoarse tone, but a sharp, metallic sound. The one-armed man instinctively clenched his fist, his nails digging into his palm until they bled, but he didn't feel it.
He knew all too well the power of Sato Ittōsai's strike. It was a "single strike" that embodied a lifetime of energy and the pursuit of perfection. Ordinary masters couldn't even see it, let alone defend against it! They would only see a flash of light, then a chill on their neck, and then know nothing more.
But the other party—
He used only one hand.
Just a casual lift.
At once……
"So...so strong!"