Heaven's Greatest Professor

"May you be worthy to advance to the next point."

Warden lurched to sit upright and turned to the fellow who attacked him out of nowhere. It was a dark-skinned man in long robes, which looked too ordinary for someone of his station. A carved blade was in his hand, as he examined the guy he addressed as the challenger.

"So I have to defeat you to keep on climbing, huh?" Warden said, and didn't stand up. "As if the difficulty of the patterns weren't enough."

"Stand proud, challenger," the dark-skinned man said, taking his stance, the carved blade raised upwards. "You're standing before the fourth disciple of the Great Master Oa'keam. Show your worth, or dismiss yourself from the path..."

Warden tilted his head but didn't stand up. "I get all that, but can I rest a little while?" he asked. "The climb had taken a lot out of him. I reckon a person of your esteem would want to fight me at my best..."

The fourth disciple grinned at him and then shot towards him, swinging his blade. The winds swirled along his movement, augmenting his attack.

Warden cursed himself and leapt to his feet. He brought out his blade, **[The Divider]**, and intercepted the attack, even though dozens of wind blades gushed from the man and crashed into him. They left deep fleshy wounds and he had to employ radiance essence immediately to heal them.

"You have stopped my first attack, but how many can you intercept?" the man asked, bursting into a spree of attack.

"I guess we have to find out," Warden replied, pulling swirls of the pattern of his own. He employed the swirling wind to block the wind blades from the attack, while he matched the man in swordplay.

Unfortunately, it appeared he couldn't match the man in swordplay, or in controlling the patterns. Not to mention, he was far from his peak condition. Within a dozen or so attacks, it was evident that he would have to take a loss from here.

The fourth disciple was a master of swordplay, and who knew for how long he had spent on the mountain to consolidate his understanding of the pattern.

So before the guy could defeat him and eliminate him out of Elysian, Warden admitted his defeat and withdrew several hundred metres. It appeared the Fourth Disciple couldn't or didn't want to chase after him to eliminate him from the path. He was content with remaining at the checkpoint for Warden to return.

Warden immediately went back to meditation after withdrawing. After he calmed his bearings, he visualised the whole battle sequence with the fourth disciple in his mind. It didn't take long for him to observe where he was lacking, but he replayed it again and again.

First of all, there was no contest in swordsmanship between the two. The fourth disciple was superior in sword forms and rich in experience as well. He likely had fought countless sword masters, staying at the checkpoint for who knew how long.

So, Warden stored the blade back into subspace and brought out a couple of his untrustworthy spears. While he would like to polish his swordsmanship, he was still rough around the edges with the spear. It was probably because he hadn't had the opportunity to let himself be completely consumed in battle for a long while.

The fourth disciple looked like someone who could take on his best. Of course, he didn't scurry back to fight right at this moment yet. He needed to be at his very best to even stand a chance of winning against the fourth disciple.

For a couple of hours, he meditated, for another couple, he practised basic spear forms. Finally, he sat down to meditate for another few minutes before he was back to fight again.

"So you come again, rat," the fourth disciple of Oa'keam roared with laughter at the first sight of him. "Are you going to run like a rat again?"

Warden took a stance, resting one of his spears straight into the earth; the identical other was in his hand. "Come at me."

"I thought you were going to give excuses again," the swordsman shouted.

Warden shook his head and shot at the man, swinging his spear.

"Not wasting any moment, are you confident of your chances?" The fourth disciple's lips crooked up in a grin. "Boy oh boy, I like your approach... but do you think you can contend with me?"

Warden was annoyed at the sheer amount of arrogance and nonsense coming out of the swordsman's mouth. However, he didn't stray from his plan. In their little fight previously, he only got to see some of the man's flashy sword moves; he needed to bring more out of him before he could hope to gain the upper hand.

So he engaged in a more cautious defensive stance against the master of the sword. The fellow continued on spitting nonsense, but within a couple of minutes, Warden had pressed him hard enough that he didn't have the attention to spare to his mind to say anything.

"You have surprised me, rat," said the fourth disciple. "Count yourself lucky; very few have experienced my Intent and lived to tell the tale."

The fourth disciple summoned up his sword intent, which was actually something very simple. He had comprehended the essence of Sharpness, but it was polished to such a degree that one might cut themselves just by observing his intent for an extended moment.

Not only that, he took charge of the swirls of pattern again and imbued them with his Intent of sharpness, boosting their power to an unprecedented level.

The fourth disciple grinned. "Are you going to run like a little girl now?" Discover the saga at m-vl-em-pyr

He shot a beam of sword moves, coming at Warden from multiple directions. Warden had no chance to block them all without calling upon his Intent—so he did. Baleful ruinous power manifested upon his spear tip, as whips of dark purple smoke oozed out.

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