Eternal Swordmaster Chapter 4 Getting Started

Bo Yunzi cast a glance at Lin Xin, who was practicing pathetically nearby.

"Your aptitude in sword arts is truly poor. Why not come with me and study the Poisonous Sand Palm? It originated from a eunuch during the Northern Yuan era..."

While he chattered endlessly, Lin Xin's sight grew hazier by the moment. He poured every bit of focus into preventing his sword strikes from veering wildly off course.

That haze over his vision felt like an overlay distorting everything he saw, stirring deep unease.

With the passage of time, the veil clouding his eyes slowly sharpened into focus.

"What... what's going on?!" Lin Xin gradually discerned the source of the disturbance, his mouth falling open in shock.

Overlaying his view was the martial arts game panel he'd been chatting about with online buddies right before his transmigration!

A pale crimson panel sat fixed at the edge of his sight.

Offense, Defense, Evasion, Physique.

These core stats were all present, each trailed by tiny digits.

Offense—2, Defense—1, Evasion—1, Physique—1.

Lin Xin blinked hard and spotted a minuscule red icon after the stats, shaped like a tiny blade. It was so small that only intense scrutiny revealed it.

Concentrating on it triggered a line of text to pop into his thoughts effortlessly.

'Red Pine Sword Technique: Beginner.'

"Pay attention!"

Pfft!

Bo Yunzi lunged like a bolt of lightning, delivering another harsh kick to Lin Xin on the training ground.

Agony surged through him, and right away, a downward-pointing arrow flashed beside his Physique stat.

"Is this showing my physique dropping bit by bit?"

Mind buzzing with doubts, Lin Xin struggled to finish his daily quota of a thousand sword thrusts. Back in his room at last, he could finally ponder this bizarre new phenomenon.

The panel had stayed steady since showing up, unchanged.

After sleeping through the night, Lin Xin discovered with astonishment that the arrow by Physique was gone, a sign of full recovery.

Thrilled upon waking, he dashed laps around the dojo courtyard.

"If attributes function, maybe other features do too? Such as the herb collection system?"

Harboring that idea, he scoured the nearby grass, yet the panel remained unaltered, no fresh icons emerging.

His experiments revealed only the stats and skill display; otherwise, it mimicked a mere hallucination without further effects.

Lin Xin saw it less as a full game interface and more as brain-installed software—an illusory tool tracking his physical condition and revealing his capabilities plainly.

No other capabilities existed beyond that.

Lin Xin, once buzzing with excitement, grew dejected upon grasping its limits and trudged back to his quarters.

He collapsed onto the bed, rubbing his face in frustration.

"Just a mental mirage after all. None of the game's other mechanics work. Looks like no easy paths exist in this world..."

His eyes drifted to the practice wooden sword nearby. Grabbing it, he resumed extra drills from earlier to better attune to his body's inherent basics.

The dull gray wooden blade shot forward swiftly, utterly noiseless.

Thrust again. Dead quiet.

Thrust once more, still hushed.

Yet another thrust, hiss.

A barely audible whisper of sound erupted on that strike.

Lin Xin realized instantly that with the noise, an upward arrow flickered by the Red Pine Sword Technique icon.

"Could this mean..." His pulse quickened. Fixing his stare on the icon unleashed a stream of details.

'Red Pine Sword Technique—Beginner. (Advance conditions: Master thrusting, Songyang Needle)'

"Advancement requirements visible?" Hope flickered in Lin Xin's chest. Now, bottlenecks wouldn't stump him—he'd know exactly what to target, steering clear of dead ends.

Even better, that fluke perfect thrust lingered in his vision as a captured technique.

Closing his eyes still let him view the crimson skill emblem—a blade piercing ahead, whipping up a rush of wind.

"Truly like software embedded in my mind, pinpointing bodily shifts and etching movements flawlessly."

Lin Xin quickly pieced it together mentally.

Directing his will softly toward the skill,

His body moved on its own, guided by some unseen hand, raising the wooden sword for a forward stab.

Whoosh.

Air sliced with a soft whoosh right away.

"Yes!" Lin Xin sensed the strike mirrored the prior success perfectly—power, trajectory, velocity all identical, a flawless duplicate.

"Exact recall of the ideal thrust. This...," Words failed Lin Xin. Such precise bodily command wasn't mystical, yet surpassed any magic!

Setting aside the sword, he mimicked the thrust barehanded, sans skill.

No sound.

Attempt it again!

Whoosh.

This whoosh rang louder.

Drawing from the memorized thrust, Lin Xin tweaked his form slightly and nailed an improved version instantly.

Soon, an upward arrow materialized after the Red Pine Sword Technique marker.

"Exactly! Haha!" Elation flooded Lin Xin as he tested thrusts relentlessly for peak perfection.

The skill locked in top successful thrusts as instincts; repeated practice ingrained them deeply, forging ultimate proficiency.

Through the night, he drilled the thrust endlessly, pinpointing the supreme form, saving it as skill, then cycling repetitions to savor every nuance.

Skills start stiff, but true expertise fuses them into instincts for effortless command.

Recent turmoil left Lin Xin gripped by insecurity. Staying vulnerable amid chaos meant slaughter like a helpless sheep.

*******************

Down the mountain in Red Pine City

Within a crimson-lacquered estate in the city's southeast,

In the grand hall, a robust fellow with bushy brows and fierce gaze, saber at his belt, scowled at the chair-bound man opposite.

"Big brother, the Shu Family's demands are too harsh. Aren't they kicking us while we're down?"

The seated figure, attired as a rich trader, sported a white cap embedded with green jade atop his head, draped in fine white silk and a blue-furred cloak like a light mantle.

"Relax, second brother. We've got time to maneuver. City General Huang has escalated it upward," the trader replied calmly, spinning twin jade balls in his palm.

"Plus, I've set other plans in motion...

"I've always despised Shu Guanglong; I'll seize a chance to put him in his place," the sturdy man declared forthrightly.

"Last month's shipment fell short by twenty percent. Send Ah Hao to investigate. Though the Lin Family faces hardship now, we won't be bullied by every mutt on the street." The rotund, affluent merchant's voice turned icy.

In turbulent eras, those erecting vast enterprises were no ordinary folk. This trader was Lin Zhiwen, Lin Family patriarch, famed throughout Red Pine City and beyond.

The brawny man was his blood brother Lin Zhiwu, Red Pine City's chief constable.

"Consider it done," Lin Zhiwu nodded. "I'll handle it soon. Oh, heard your youngest son returned?"

"Yes, he has," Lin Zhiwen halted the balls' spin briefly, "The second son's off in Wanxin City building independently, launching a third outlet. Third lingers at Shimen Mountain; word came recently of his regiment commander promotion, favored by the chiliarch. Our Lin Family's secured military ties at last. The fourth... barring surprises, he's linked with the Song Family; county magistrate post awaits."

"Tsk tsk, county magistrate... Befitting the Songs—that ploy by our fourth is brilliant... Real power grasped, facade maintained, paths clear ahead," envy glinted in Lin Zhiwu's eyes.

"Provided the fourth endures his wife's temper," Lin Zhiwen sighed.

"Rumors say their union thrives, else why aid from Lord Song, his father-in-law? Grooming his son-in-law?"

"Enough of that. My chief concern remains the eldest," Lin Zhiwen shook his head. "Xinru's chased martial pursuits since youth yet lacks innate gift. I permitted it hoping he'd quit and return home, but he clings to the peaks, unyielding."

"Ah Hao's pressed him repeatedly to no avail," Lin Zhiwu shrugged helplessly. Lin Xinru stood alone as the family outlier.

Folk pursued commerce, arms, or bureaucracy—proven routes. Yet he chose the rundown dojo, lingering three-plus years without descent.

A grown man of twenty freeloading, as siblings thrived independently—still the main line's heir.

These days, outmatched any Jianghu wanderer against phalanx soldiers? A famed expert once played Robin Hood, only to face pike walls and bolt storms—a dragon falls there too.

"Battlefield warfare's the real study. Jianghu duels? Useless. Like my constable post?" Lin Zhiwu frowned. Youth saw him as a wandering martialist, prowess renowned afar.

"Lantern Festival nears. Tradition brings Xinru down, with second, third, fourth returning—yours too. We'll contrast sharply, revealing priorities. Sever his funds, and reality dawns," Lin Zhiwen drawled.

"Contrast? Smart," Lin Zhiwu tugged his goatee. "You always grasp it best, brother. Witness siblings surpass him—comparison stings deepest; that'll jolt him awake."