Xuanqing Guard

Chapter 308: Chapter 308: Black Cut

Nie Yun wasn’t sleeping either—he was sitting cross-legged on the bed with his eyes closed, concentrating, probably still exploring what he had comprehended today from the Sword Washing Pool.

Shen Hao, too, had no desire to sleep. The mental exhaustion from long hours of enlightenment had been quickly washed away after taking a Spirit Nourishing Elixir; now he was sharp and clear-headed.

Sitting on his own bed, Shen Hao wore a blank expression. After listening to Nie Yun’s account, he realized that he’d gone through a stroke of fortune others would envy, lasting a full three hours. Yet if someone asked him what he’d gained, he honestly couldn’t say.

Say what, exactly?

Shen Hao had no idea how he even entered enlightenment—he only knew it had something to do with that Black Beast Tattoo on his chest, which, for whatever reason, manifested the previously shapeless, formless Sword Intent on a conscious level. Curious, he had drawn in one of the materialized Intents into his Sea of Consciousness, and then, apparently, slipped into the state Nie Yun called enlightenment.

What he remembered were all those surging, tumbling streams of information within his Sea of Consciousness: mysterious, profound. He had clearly seen a lot back then, yet now, when he looked back, all he had left was a feeling of "I get it"—but he couldn’t say what, exactly, he had gotten.

But when it came to Sword Intent—no, more precisely, to "Intent"—Shen Hao did remember a few things.

It was a pitch-black shadow. Shen Hao had found it while searching among countless possible answers to "Intent" for what belonged to him. He didn’t know what that black mass was, but deep down, he sensed it was connected to his own "Intent."

Shen Hao’s knowledge of "Intent" was limited; he’d only heard of it for the first time earlier today. Now Nie Yun was cultivating and shouldn’t be disturbed, so even with all his questions, Shen Hao could only suppress them for now.

For the first time, Shen Hao felt a pressing need for some guidance on the path of cultivation.

His mind was a mess—a swirl of thoughts—and the room felt stuffy and suffocating. Not wanting to bother Nie Yun, Shen Hao tiptoed outside, let the night breeze brush over him, shivered a little, and somehow felt his head clear up a bit.

Everything around him was black as ink, but Shen Hao’s sight pierced the darkness without issue.

Still, in an environment like this, he couldn’t help thinking of that shadow that had appeared during his enlightenment: "What the hell was that thing? Why did it feel so familiar back then?"

Glancing off in the distance, he could just make out the twinkle of lamplight from some houses not far away—golden, like bits of starlight fallen to the earth.

But Shen Hao was caught up in his thoughts. Suddenly he remembered—within that mysterious black shadow that had appeared during his enlightenment, in one corner, there had been golden spots of light just like those stars, vivid and bright.

A mass of darkness, golden in one corner, and a strange sense of familiarity...

Shen Hao finally realized it—even without pulling his shirt open: that shadow in his Sea of Consciousness, the one belonging to his "Intent," ought to be his chest’s Black Beast...

Why the hell are you popping up everywhere?

Shen Hao nearly wanted to laugh—one of those helpless kinds of laughs.

He took the Yanji Saber from his Storage Bag, unsheathed it, and, thinking of the Black Beast, wanted to try out what exactly that "Intent" he’d felt in enlightenment really was. Of course, the Black Beast had to butt in again.

He swung the saber.

No Blade Gang, just a simple slash. Other than the whoosh of wind, there was nothing special about it.

"No reaction?"

Shen Hao tried again, and half an hour later, finally something changed—a strange sensation, rising from his Sea of Consciousness, silently drawing forth a mysterious, intangible power, and then lashing it out through the saber’s edge.

This slash wasn’t fueled by True Qi at all, but the arc cut through the air like a fan, erasing everything in its path. Grass, wood, stone—nothing was spared; all were missing a chunk where the blade passed.

At a glance, it looked like a Blade Gang’s path of destruction, but looking closer, Shen Hao realized it was all wrong.

Cutting something usually meant slicing it in two, but this slash didn’t "slice in half"—it "erased a part."

He picked up a chunk of severed stone and tried to fit it with what was left on the ground. Even after putting them together, there was still a bit missing—what was missing was exactly the part that had been "erased" by that slash.

Shen Hao stood there dazed for quite a while—totally baffled. Then he swung the saber again, following the same feeling. This time, after only about ten tries, he managed to reproduce the same effect.

This time, Shen Hao felt it distinctly—it wasn’t Blade Gang he was unleashing, but his own "Intent."

This "Intent" might be formless and without substance, but it shocked Shen Hao to the core: When it swept across stone or grass, it made part of them instantly vanish—only whatever didn’t touch the "Intent" was left behind.

And because this erasing happened so fast on contact, it gave an impression much like cutting something.

Why would things disappear? At first, Shen Hao didn’t understand, but as he kept slashing, and as he managed to make every strike carry "Intent," he started to gain a new realization.

Each slash infused with "Intent" brought with it an incredibly tiny trickle of energy—if you really paid attention—feeding back along the slash’s path, flowing through his meridians into his Sea of Consciousness, and finally getting absorbed by his soul.

This method felt oddly familiar to Shen Hao.

No wonder it’s you again, Black Beast—so now even my "Intent" is about devouring? And it can even snack on rocks, huh. Just, the energy he got from grass and stone was so pitifully small it was basically negligible—nowhere near enough to balance out the strain every slash put on his soul. So much for that fantasy about cutting dirt to get stronger.

"Hoo..." Shen Hao plopped down on the ground, head spinning a little. He’d managed to unleash a total of nineteen slashes with his "Intent," and now his Sea of Consciousness was all but drained—maybe one more squeeze left, but then he’d probably pass out from overexertion.

This kind of energy drain was worse than Earth Escape or the Soul Suppressing Skill—even an advanced move like the Palm Snake didn’t load his soul this much. Still, it did pack quite the punch. Just, he had no idea if it would work just as well against Arrays, True Qi Shields, or Magical Artifacts—would they, too, be instantly devoured?

Besides, my "Intent" should probably have a name, too, right? With its link to the Black Beast Tattoo, nobody else ought to have an "Intent" quite like this.

After thinking it over, Shen Hao muttered to himself, "...how about ’Black Cut’..."

He didn’t agonize over naming it for long. His "Intent" was now called "Black Cut"—one slash sweeping through, devouring and cutting like a black hole. As for the actual "devouring" part, Shen Hao figured it was best not to spell that out in the name—no need to tip people off or court extra trouble.

Absorbing from outside to replenish within—a method like that would never sit well with mainstream cultivation philosophy. Worse, if he got branded as an Evil Cultivator, he’d really be in trouble.

Black Cut—yeah, that’ll do. As long as he knew the real meaning, that was enough.