Chapitre 28: Behind The Fake

Confined within the formation's structure, Fang Hao no longer hesitated, fully aware of its fake nature.

With resolute steps, he moved through the chaotic battlefield of screams and shouts, quickly taking down anyone who came his way drawing blood.

Employing the lotus sword art, he sought to conserve his spiritual energy, concentrating on nimble evasions and astutely pinpointing openings for his counterattacks.

He strategically targeted his opponents' vulnerabilities, engaging them individually and methodically.

As he grew familiar with the rhythm of the battles, he found himself steadily making notable progress. While occasionally enduring minor wounds, he adeptly sidestepped any potentially fatal blows.

Now, Fang Hao was faced with his most challenging encounter. Two soldiers from the same faction had spotted him and were charging toward him with weapons drawn.

Thinking swiftly, he employed the lotus defensive technique, parrying an attack before counterattacking with his sword.

The clash produced a resonant metallic 'clank' sound, and sparks flew as his blade met his opponent's.

Losing a bit of balance from the collision, he wielded his sword to deflect the subsequent attacks, while his free hand began tracing the circular array in the sky.

With the dual assault bearing down upon him, his focus wavered under the mounting pressure, causing the array to crack before ultimately shattering.

The force pushed him backwards as the sword struck the lotus petals.

Unharmed but sensing a distinct pain, he rubbed his nose as blood began to trickle from the backslash.

"This pain is different," Fang Hao muttered, quickly moving to set up the array for their impending attacks.

This time, things went more smoothly. With greater experience, he deftly employed the sword to parry and sidestepped any attempts to strike his body, leading to the successful completion of the array.

As Fang Hao infused it with his spiritual energy, the array emitted a subdued glow.

The soldiers appeared oblivious to the array's presence as they continued their assault, inadvertently falling victim to its power.

Fang Hao easily landed a blow on them, the beam closed in on the first soldier's heart, terminating his life instantly, then continued its trajectory through him and struck the second soldier, inflicting a grave wound.

Swinging his sword at the still-breathing opponent, Fang Hao ended his life.

Breathing slightly heavily and fatigue setting in, a female warrior wielding a longsword lunged towards him.

Unable to evade her strike, he felt the sharp pain of the blade cutting across his chest.

Running his fingers along the wound and inhaling deeply, he swiftly launched an attack, ending her life before his gaze dropped to her body.

A delicate countenance framed by blood-streaked hair, yet something was undergoing a transformation.

The colours around him were changing, becoming strange and unreal.

He could tell these were just pictures. When he looked at the battlefield, it felt like he was in the background of a scene everything was like a movie.

Pressing his fingers against the source of the pain, he pondered how it worked before deciding to attempt something.

Using a knife, he cut his hand, concentrating on the idea that it was all an illusion.

The initial cut stung intensely, causing him to involuntarily release the knife, yet the pain didn't feel as authentic as the earlier backlash.

After taking a deep breath, he wielded the knife once more, and this time the pain was milder.

Acting quickly and seizing onto this weird sensation, he made another cut, yet oddly, this time, nothing occurred.

The sword in his hand passed through his palm without any resistance, as if he were a ghost.

"I see," he muttered and stood unwavering as a random soldier lunged at him, targeting his head.

Watching the blade approach, Fang Hao's heart raced, but with determination, he allowed the blade to make contact with his neck, passing through it just as it had before.

The soldier wore a perplexed expression as he stared at Hao, and then he trembled and departed, moving like a puppet on strings as if Hao didn't even exist.

"What an intriguing design this formation possesses, there's no doubt about it," he chuckled, his gaze piercing through the illusory reaching the real world.

Beyond the fake images, the other trial participants were seated around him in a cross-legged manner, displaying an array of emotions on their faces.

"And if my guess is correct, that colossal structure in the distance should be..."

He turned his head and spotted an elder seated amidst the arrangement of formation flags and spirit stones.

Around him were symbols that he didn't understand, far more advanced than what Yu Rui had taught him – the very core of it all.

The elder, as if sensing a disturbance, turned his gaze in Fang Hao's direction, prompting him to swiftly shut his eyes and feign ignorance.

Only two individuals caught Fang Hao's subtle, fleeting motion that lasted for a mere second: his father and the sect leader.

He stared closely, then looked in another direction. "That's an interesting youth," he thought quietly. Next, he stood beside the elder in charge of the group.

As he watched the participants struggle and get taken away, he waited a bit longer before telling the elder to stop.

The number of participants had gone down from 2000 to 500.

The filtering had proven effective. Those who remained exhibited confusion and dazed expressions at first, but soon their demeanor shifted to one of strength and determination, their eyes reflecting newfound resolve.

However, Fang Hao stood apart from the rest, his expression unchanged.

"Congratulations, you are now an outer disciple of Falling Stars Sword Hall, one of the top three in this middle world" The majority were happy, but a couple seemed a bit disheartened.

Had all this effort been only solely for the sake of an outer discipline?

Observing their expressions, he understood their thoughts and raised his presence, causing them to halt.

These young individuals seemed unaware of what truly lay in their best interests; countless others would eagerly kill for the opportunity they were being presented with.