Chapter Forty-Six: Not Oneself

"Also, you actually held your own against Hao Po just now! When did you become so formidable?" Ruoxi exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as she had already forgotten about Xiaoshan leaving her behind earlier.

Ruoxi dashed over, her eyes gleaming with golden light as she circled Xiaoshan, scrutinizing him with a puzzled expression, as though he were a stranger. "Hey! Where's your sword?"

Running, fighting, and the sword in his hand—these key words instantly cleared Xiaoshan’s thoughts. At least he remembered running out, somehow acquiring a sword, and then fighting Hao Po upon his return.

"Kill!" The word suddenly burst into Xiaoshan's mind, startling him so much that goosebumps prickled his skin. He instinctively looked down and squeezed his hand, but there was no sword in his grip.

Ahead of him, Hao Po sat on the ground, the farthest from Xiaoshan, his hands resting on his knees, his face as pale as death. Behind Hao Po, Haoyun also sat on the ground, his hands pressed against Hao Po's back, seemingly tending to his wounds.

In front of them, Haotian stood straight, the tip of his sword pointing downward as he stared intently at Xiaoshan.

Their eyes met. Haotian's gaze widened, fixed and unwavering on Xiaoshan. Xiaoshan blinked and turned his head, realizing Haotian was watching him with an unfamiliar look, as if he were seeing a stranger or an enemy, his face devoid of emotion. Was it because they’d fought?

"I feel like I’m not myself anymore," Xiaoshan finally concluded after a long silence.

Initially, the blood-stained battlefield had left his mind muddled, but he also felt stronger—perhaps it was the credit of that blade without an edge. Now, strange memories surfaced within him, making him feel disconnected from his own body, as if he were swept along by another’s memories.

As if in response to the turmoil within, his hand involuntarily turned, and a pitch-black sword appeared in his grasp. His eyes shifted, and the last traces of white vanished from his irises, leaving only black.

In Xiaoshan’s own words, he was no longer himself.

The moment he took up the sword, his entire presence transformed. An indifferent air and a sense of supreme arrogance radiated from him. He lifted his head, his gaze locked fiercely onto the wounded Hao Po.

Ruoxi was stunned, her mouth forming an ‘o.’ "Not yourself anymore…?"

She also sensed the change in Xiaoshan beside her—a new aura that repelled those around him, just as it had before. Instinctively, she reached out, only to find that he had vanished from his spot in an instant.

Across from them, Haotian noticed that, from the moment Xiaoshan had taken up the sword, his own expression grew grim, his grip tightened unconsciously, and the blade began to glow with a bright light—a sign of internal energy being channeled through the sword.

Haoyun, sensing the shift, opened his eyes briefly to look, then slowly closed them again, his palm retreating only to press anew on Hao Po’s back.

"Ah!" Haotian exclaimed in surprise as Xiaoshan rushed forward at lightning speed, forcing himself to charge ahead as well.

Hao Po was already wounded, Haoyun’s efforts barely stabilizing him. Now only Haotian remained to stand against Xiaoshan; he had no choice but to face him.

Ordinarily, a martial artist at Xiaoshan’s level, the Bright Force realm, would not warrant such caution. Yet his aura was chilling, and the sword in his hand radiated a dazzling blue light. After witnessing Xiaoshan’s exchange with Hao Po, Haotian could not afford to be careless.

Martial artists are generally divided into acquired and innate realms. The boundary between the acquired and innate is vast. The acquired realm is split into Bright Force and Dark Force. Bright Force involves training the body’s strength, concentrating it, and unleashing it through powerful strikes—its purpose is to lay the foundation for internal energy.

In contrast, the innate realm’s Transforming Force requires the opening of the Ren and Du meridians. At this stage, one gains mastery over every external organ, further training the teeth, tongue, nails, and hair—the four “beauties.” Dark Force permeates the whole body, achieving a state where not even dust or insects can settle upon it. Reaching this point, as long as one does not exhaust their energy, one can live up to a hundred and forty or fifty years.

Though the gap between them was two realms, Xiaoshan still gave Haotian an unnerving sense of dread.

What was happening?

Gripping his sword, Haotian felt Xiaoshan’s sword energy trembling in his hand. Whether it was the overwhelming aura or Xiaoshan’s earlier display of speed, fear gripped him as he focused solely on defense.

He continued to dodge Xiaoshan’s sword attacks, deliberately stalling for time, hoping that Hao Po’s wounds would stabilize or that Xiaoshan would cease his madness.

"Xiaoshan! What’s wrong with you?" Ruoxi hurried over, watching their duel and stamping her feet in anxiety.

"He’s gone mad!"