"You're early today." The elder, his cheeks still flushed from drinking too much, looked at the young man climbing the stairs to the top floor beside him.
"I couldn't sleep much, elder," Xiaotian replied sincerely.
"Anxious?" The elder laughed.
"Yes, quite."
The old man laughed even more and opened the doors to his office, ushering him inside. He then headed to an adjoining room, where his own training center was located.
It had all kinds of training materials. Training rooms specializing in different areas. Others with puppets of all levels and cultivation techniques.
The room was quite large and took up almost the entire floor, but its neat layout meant it could hold much more than it normally could.
"It's a little dusty because I don't use it anymore," he said, lighting the torches to illuminate the room. "But it's functional."
Xiaotian didn't worry about it. He was more interested in a room labeled "Drunken Technique."
"That's where we train our tower's technique," said the elder, noticing his gaze, though he didn't elaborate. "It's not something you'll learn, since you belong to the Oak Sword Sect."
Xiaotian raised his eyebrows and looked at him. "Why do you think I belong to that place?" he asked, confused.
He didn't remember saying anything like that, and he was sure Ruxue wouldn't have said it either.
The elder laughed. "You don't think you can hide just because you have a mask, do you?" He waved his hand.
"Zhang Xiaotian, I heard you had died. When I saw you here, I couldn't believe it. I said, Are all those of that bloodline monsters? First, it was your father, although he did eventually die. And now you... maybe you're zombies," the elder joked.
Xiaotian was perplexed.
"Since..." He was about to ask something, but immediately fell silent and sighed. "I hope you keep it a secret."
"It's not my hobby to reveal other people's secrets," replied the elder. "Although I'm still curious as to why you choose to keep it a secret and live in the Mu family's house, you intend to participate in that tournament, right?" he said.
Xiaotian did not respond.
"According to rumors, only those who register and bear the Zhang surname will be allowed to participate. The moment you register, they will know, so I see little point in hiding."
"I need time," Xiaotian replied firmly. "I still have time to register, although I'd really rather not have to. I heard that those from the main bloodline weren't required to do so."
The elder nodded and tossed him a wooden sword. "I heard that too. But you're dead, right? At least to them you are; they won't count on you."
Xiaotian knew that. "I came to this place knowing that."
"You intend to ask me for help, right? My word carries quite a bit of weight now that I've been recognized as a Guest Elder of the Oak Sword Sect."
Xiaotian shrugged. "I'm here now, as you requested yesterday, Elder. I'd like to know what you have planned," he said, deflecting the conversation.
The Elder snorted. "Attack me the same way you did yesterday; don't use that strange technique of yours for now."
Seconds later, wooden swords began to clang in the hall as the two attacked each other fiercely.
Although the elder was holding back considerably, his blows hurt terribly.
Xiaotian had to do something about those blows, so he tried to make perfect blocks, but he realized that he wasn't capable of it. His intentions were good, and his movements were correct, but the problem was that he couldn't calculate when those blows would land on his body.
He had to admit that this elder was far superior to him.
A while later, Xiaotian fell backward, exhausted.
"You little brat, why are you insisting on doing what you're doing? I don't even understand what you're trying to do."
"I call them perfect parries," he said.
"Perfect parries? You're trying to guess the strike, position, and timing? I think you're becoming an idiot," replied the elder in a scolding tone.
Xiaotian snorted. "What do you know, old man? It's not guessing, it's knowledge."
"What knowledge?" growled the elder and struck him on the head, wanting to correct him in his stupidity.
Xiaotian reacted instinctively, raising his sword. It moved at an angle different from a common defense. It had an angle of inclination of about 45 degrees.
TOCK!
The blow sounded loud, much louder than other times. But it did no damage, because the elder's sword slid through his own sword.
Although exhausted from the grueling training beforehand, Xiaotian saw a perfect opening that he couldn't help but take advantage of. His sword only had to follow the path indicated by the angle of inclination and soon struck the elder's shoulder with a precise attack.
Although his strength failed to push the elder back, the two stared at each other. One winner and one loser.
Xiaotian smiled slowly. "What did you say, Drunken Old Man?"
The Drunken Elder suddenly blushed, though a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes. He snorted and turned away quickly, though he couldn't help thinking about what had just happened.
He had never seen such a thing possible, but when he thought about it carefully, Xiaotian's accuracy had been terrifying, almost as if it were divination. Was it luck, perhaps?
Although Xiaotian's confidence made him think otherwise.
'Interesting.' The elder smiled. It had been a long time since he had felt this way.
Seeing that Xiaotian was still looking at him strangely, he cleared his throat.
"Little brat, your talent with the sword is very good. I understand now why they call you the Son of the Sword," he said, turning to look at him again.
"But your understanding of it is superficial. You understand the philosophy's concept, but you don't understand its depth. Believe me, there is more to the philosophy of the sword than you think," he assured him.
Xiaotian noticed the change in his voice and understood that he wanted to teach him something, so he remained silent and listened attentively.
"Your power is good, much higher than someone of your level. That's amazing; it means you know very well how to press your fingers and muscles to strike, and where to apply force to do so, something not many people know." He praised him, pointing out his strengths.
Still, there was a but.
"But your movements are clumsy. You lack footwork and sword technique. So, from today onwards, I want to teach you a few things," the elder finally said.
"Are you pretending to be my teacher?" Xiaotian asked, astonished.
That was more than he could ask for!
"No." He shook his head with an exaggerated gesture of his hands. "You will be your own teacher; you are not qualified to be my apprentice. I will only be your guide in your early stages."
His words astonished Xiaotian even more. This man was astonishingly humble, yet extraordinarily eccentric.
Weren't his words exactly the same as being his teacher? He was just clarifying that he wasn't good enough to be his apprentice.
Xiaotian wanted to click his tongue, but, truthfully, there was nothing better than this. So he stood up and gave him a small bow.
"I hope to learn a lot from you, elder."
"Fine." The elder shrugged and turned to walk toward the door of the room.
"Before we begin, show me your fighting skills."
Xiaotian raised an eyebrow. "Again?" he asked. Hadn't they just fought?
"Not with me, idiot. With me, I'll never be able to see your full potential. You'll fight someone else," he said.
"Who?" he asked, confused.
The elder laughed maliciously. "Put on the mask; you don't want him to recognize you."