Cultivators use a wide variety of objects as weapons.
The most common was definitely the sword or, similarly, the Dao Blade. Over 30% of cultivators chose this as their main weapon. Others used things like the Bagua, tal-ribbed fans, lutes, bells, gourds, or even sticks as weapons.
However, there is one cultivation path that low-key surpasses all weapon Daos with ease.
A cultivation path focused purely on strength and speed—unrivaled in those areas... the fist!
"Hap!"
Xu Tao, the mont he released his blade, threw a short punch. It was casual, almost playful-looking, but...
BAM!
"GAH!"
The fake Xu Tao flew back like a teor, disappearing in seconds...
But Xu Tao didn’t let him get away.
In terms of speed, nothing beats the fist. It travels the shortest distance, and if both parties are within striking range, it can reach the target faster than even the blade.
The Asura Form’s ethereal fists were slower because they weren’t truly part of the body. They were rely constituents of the technique itself. Thus, their speed could at most match a sword swing.
Xu Tao flashed before the fake, his fist already finishing the swing as it landed solidly on the target’s face. A loud crack echoed as blood spurted from the broken nose.
At a glance, it might seem like he had the upper hand, but Xu Tao was feeling extre pressure as he moved.
’I can’t let him recover!’
As soon as the fake could think straight again—bolstered by the Six-Ard Ashura Demon King Manifestation—Xu Tao wouldn’t have another chance!
He unleashed punches upon punches, combos upon combos, chaining the enemy into an infinite hell of relentless beating. The pain was real, and the damage to the fake’s brain from the constant shaking was obvious... yet on closer inspection, Xu Tao had barely done any real harm at all.
The only truly effective strike had been the first punch.
Back then, the fake Xu Tao had focused his Qi entirely on offense, leaving almost no defenses up. If Xu Tao could turn back ti, he would have ended things right then and there.
THUMP!
Finally, Xu Tao’s fist... was caught.
One of the four Ashura fists had grabbed him. Touching it ant ga over, so Xu Tao had no choice but to retreat.
"Haaa... haaa... haa..."
As soon as he pulled away, he rembered to breathe, gasping as he tried to catch his breath.
"You almost got there..."
The fake muttered, cracking his neck and pulling off the robe he wore, now full of fist-sized holes. "However, this is as far as you can go. My turn!"
The next mont, his entire body glowed a fiery red—a sign that he was no longer holding back, that all his physical stats were now fully boosted by the Forbidden Technique.
"...!"
Xu Tao reacted instantly, grabbing a sword from his storage ring and swinging it down. The fake suddenly appeared right in front of him, swinging a red fist toward the blade.
SHATTER!
The sword offered no resistance, breaking into a hundred shards. Xu Tao jumped back, drawing another sword to block another incoming fist, sacrificing yet another weapon just to survive a fraction of a second longer.
"Guh...!"
One after another, red fists ca for his life, and as if in sync, one after another, weapons flew from his SSR Storage Ring—only to be destroyed instantly.
It beca a race.
Which would happen first? Xu Tao making a single mistake in prediction? The trash weapons in his storage running out? Or the fake’s stamina finally giving out?
Even he couldn’t predict it.
Soon enough, hundreds of weapons were reduced to scraps, scattered across the ground like garbage after an open-air concert. Xu Tao’s eyes darted back and forth, his mind turning without pause, not even for a microsecond.
’I need sothing... Sothing to make a difference. Sothing that can stop my fake’s onslaught!’
Scanning everything in sight, he noticed sothing—a minor detail under normal circumstances, but potentially a fatal difference if it was true.
’It’s now or never!’ he thought, pulling out a different weapon this ti.
As soon as the previous weapon shattered, he used Ground Shrink to put distance between them—before unfurling the new weapon.
"Celestial Barrier!"
He shouted, flipping the item wide open—the Celestial Fan of 108 Formations!
"You...!"
The fake gritted his teeth as the four Asura fists struck the barrier Xu Tao had just ford. Unlike before, this barrier held strong. It wasn’t unshaken, but it could withstand a few punches before breaking.
’Within that ti, I need to finish this!’
Xu Tao didn’t delay. His left hand perford complex hand seals while his right hand opened and closed the Celestial Fan in seemingly random patterns.
The destroyed weapons, their fragnts, began to float. As if fueled by vengeance, they rushed toward the fake, forming a do—a whirlwind of sharp blades and fragnts spinning around him.
Swinging his fists only destroyed the fragnts they hit, and since the further shattered pieces simply rejoined the whirlwind, the situation beca even more troubleso.
"Bastard!" the fake shouted in frustration. "This is cheating!"
"What? Cheating?"
Xu Tao smiled, dusting his clothes as he finally got a mont to breathe. "Who said using the weapons I have is cheating? If you want, use this weapon too. You’re , right?"
"..."
The fake stayed silent.
Rather than wouldn’t, it was that he simply couldn’t.
From Xu Tao’s observations, the clone copied everything about himself, but that applied only to his body and currently displayed items. Objects stored inside the ring weren’t replicated at all.
This was also why, when Xu Tao took a Qi Pill, the fake didn’t do the sa—even though it would have ensured his victory.
"Well, you should be proud that you almost forced to use the sa Forbidden Technique," Xu Tao said with a derisive smile.
"YOU BASTARD!"
The fake roared, but his cries were soon buried under the slicing and dicing of countless blades.
A few seconds later... the trial ended.
It was Xu Tao’s victory!
"Huh?"
Before he could celebrate—or even sigh in relief—his body began to glow.
"A forced teleport?" Xu Tao muttered in surprise.
The next mont, he found himself in a bizarre location...
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