Becoming a Saint From the Iron Armor Skill-Chapter 65: Cutting Down Zhou Fang

He Zhiling lost because he lost his nerve during the duel.

As the saying goes, when two meet on a narrow path, the braver one prevails. He Zhiling only knew how to turtle up and defend, never trying to attack. This allowed Zhou Fang to attack without restraint, completely letting loose.

As one’s strength waned and the other’s grew, how could He Zhiling possibly avoid defeat?

If He Zhiling had possessed even a shred of fighting spirit, daring to trade blow for blow in a life-or-death struggle, Zhou Fang might still have won, but not so easily. He certainly wouldn’t have severed He Zhiling’s arm without suffering a scratch himself.

This was especially true for the final move. Zhou Fang had thrust his sword straight for He Zhiling’s throat. According to the standard principles of offense and defense in the Martial Dao, He Zhiling shouldn’t have brought his saber back to defend himself, because at his speed, he couldn’t possibly succeed.

Instead, he should have switched from defense to offense and counter-attacked Zhou Fang’s vital points. At the very least, he should have swung his saber back at Zhou Fang’s sword-wielding right arm.

[Wind Chasing Saber Technique Cultivation Progress has increased.]

[Skills: Wind Chasing Saber Technique (Great Success 589/10000)]

A system notification materialized in mid-air.

Chen Cheng couldn’t help but feel a surge of joy. ’So after the Wind Chasing Saber Technique reached the Great Success Level, I can gain progress just by watching and understanding other people’s duels? And it was a seven-point increase, just like that!’

’Reaching the Perfection realm for the Wind Chasing Saber Technique is just around the corner!’

’The future is bright!’

"Sigh..." Zhou Fang sighed softly, sheathed his Longsword, and walked toward the edge of the field. With a look of utter boredom, he said, "I thought you’d be a worthy opponent. Turns out you’re just a pewter spearhead painted silver—all flash and no substance. How utterly dull."

"Forget it. This young master won’t trouble you further. You should watch yourself."

At this, his tone suddenly shifted, and his gaze turned vicious and cruel.

"Remember this: don’t you dare act arrogant in front of me again. Otherwise, what happened to He Zhiling will be your fate!"

One had to admit, the man was a master of provocation. Every word was a dagger to the heart.

Even many of the spectators and constables on the sidelines felt a secret indignation. ’Just because you’re strong, can’t you be a little more humble?’

Of course, they only dared to think such things. No one there was stronger than him, and sticking your neck out would only lead to disaster.

"Who said I was withdrawing?" Chen Cheng’s voice wasn’t loud, yet it boomed like a thunderclap on a clear day, echoing across the training grounds for all to hear, crystal clear.

A brilliant light once again flashed in Shen Qingshuang’s beautiful eyes. Even if Chen Cheng didn’t win, his courage to press forward without a hint of retreat already set him far apart from ordinary men.

Meanwhile, Liu Yunfeng, Liao San, and Chen Cheng’s other friends were all secretly anxious.

"Ah Cheng, don’t act on impulse. You know what they say: endure the storm now, and you’ll find a wide-open sea later," Liao San urged in a low voice, tugging on Chen Cheng’s sleeve.

Chen Cheng smiled. "It’s alright, Third Brother. This assessment match isn’t a fight to the death. How will I know if I can’t do it if I don’t even try?"

"Damn it... why won’t you listen, you kid!" Liao San slapped his thigh in frustration. He pointed to the prominent scar on his face and pleaded, "Ah Cheng, I know you’re young and hot-headed, unwilling to admit defeat. Your Third Brother was no different back in the day. Look at this scar! I’ve learned my lessons the hard way."

Chen Cheng replied just as sincerely, "Third Brother, I know you mean well, but the assessment for official constable is very important to me. If I miss this chance, who knows how long I’ll have to wait for the next one. I’ll just give it a try. If it looks bad, I’ll concede."

This was the truth. While the official constable assessment was important, Chen Cheng wasn’t about to risk his life for it.

’The only reason I’m going to fight is that I’m 99% certain I can win.’

’Of course, that 99% figure was a conservative estimate. After all, who in this world can guarantee anything with absolute certainty?’

’I’m wearing Iron Armor, which has superb defensive capabilities. Even against a Perfect Martial Artist of the Skin Grinding Realm, I should be able to retreat unscathed.’

’Besides, this is just an assessment. Powerful Martial Dao experts like Shen Qingshuang are present. If Zhou Fang’s strength truly is at Skin Grinding Realm Perfection and I’m outmatched, I can simply withdraw.’

Liao San knew Chen Cheng had made up his mind and didn’t try to persuade him further. He just said gravely, "Ah Cheng, be careful. If you see it’s a lost cause, just concede."

"Got it," Chen Cheng replied.

"Heh, this Chen Cheng really doesn’t know his own limits," Zhou Xu remarked lazily from the stands, his eyes filled with ridicule.

Shen Qingshuang shot him a glance but didn’t deign to reply. She had already made up her mind: if Chen Cheng was in any real danger, she would call a halt to the match.

’No matter what, I can’t let a talent like Chen Cheng get hurt.’

When Chen Cheng decided to fight, the spectators and the City Guard Department constables felt a surge of passion. Their gazes toward Chen Cheng were filled with utter admiration.

Only Zhou Fang’s expression darkened, his gaze turning vicious and cruel once more.

"Chen Cheng, I have to admit, I underestimated your courage. Since you dare to make an enemy of me, don’t blame me for being ruthless!"

As he spoke, Zhou Fang walked back to the center of the field and took his stance. He pointed his Longsword at Chen Cheng, his eyes brimming with killing intent.

Yes, killing intent. He felt he had been gravely offended. A nameless rage burned in his chest, and only by cutting Chen Cheng down with his sword could he possibly quell it.

"This is a spar. Pull your punches!" Shen Qingshuang finally couldn’t help but call out from the stands.

Zhou Fang sneered. "Lord Shen, blades have no eyes. If Chen Cheng is afraid to die, you can let him withdraw right now."

"Hmph!" Shen Qingshuang snorted and said no more.

Holding his Long Saber, Chen Cheng slowly walked step-by-step to stand opposite Zhou Fang. His face was expressionless as he observed his opponent’s every move.

As Zhou Fang met Chen Cheng’s deep, pitch-black, abyss-like eyes, his heart suddenly lurched. Those eyes were far too calm, far too composed.

It was like a predator sizing up its prey before the hunt. And at this moment, he, Zhou Fang, was the prey.