Douluo Dalu: Starting With Tom Cat

Chen Xin, who had already arrived at an open clearing, looked at Shen An with surprise. With his keen eyes, he could tell that Shen An's ability wasn't a flying-type soul skill but rather a development of his martial soul.

True flying-type soul skills allowed for unrestricted flight, unlike Shen An's cautious movements. However, this also highlighted Shen An's potential.

Although he couldn't fly freely yet, with time, deeper soul power, and more refined techniques, Shen An would undoubtedly soar through the skies with ease.

Shen An landed gently. For him, flying on the Nine-Leaf Sword Grass wasn't an issue. With his sword-flying soul skill, he could theoretically fly as he pleased.

The only problem was that he couldn't guarantee he could always stay perfectly synchronized with the Nine-Leaf Sword Grass. For example, attempting a 360-degree spin in midair would definitely send him plummeting.

Thus, Shen An flew cautiously. After all, safety came first, and reckless flying would only lead to tears—Tom's tears, to be precise.

Recently, Shen An had been pondering how to further develop his soul power usage. In his view, soul power was a form of energy.

What he wanted to explore was transforming this energy into different forms, such as compressing it into high-density soul power to make it more aggressive.

Alternatively, he could try giving his soul power a sticky quality, like magnetism, to better anchor himself during flight.

Chen Xin stared at the Nine-Leaf Sword Grass hovering in the air, a question mark forming in his mind. What is this thing? It looks like a sword but also like grass. 

Though its shape resembled a longsword, and its sharp aura pierced the heavens, Chen Xin could still sense that it was a grass-type martial soul.

However, this martial soul possessed such pure sword intent—a sharpness untainted by any impurities—that it was truly astonishing.

The Seven Kill Sword was hailed as the pinnacle of sword-type martial souls on the continent, but Chen Xin could clearly feel that, in terms of quality, it fell short of Shen An's Nine-Leaf Sword Grass.

At this moment, Chen Xin, with his level 96 soul power, could sense his Seven Kill Sword trembling in response to Shen An's martial soul. It wasn't fear but excitement.

It was the excitement of a sword king meeting its equal, a kind of thrill at encountering a worthy opponent. Even if the Seven Kill Sword's quality was inferior to the Nine-Leaf Sword Grass, it still burned with fighting spirit.

This sword had accompanied Chen Xin across the continent, its glory forged through countless victories. It wasn't just that the Seven Kill Sword had made Chen Xin who he was—they had elevated each other.

Chen Xin looked at Shen An with interest and said, "Draw your sword. A thousand words are worth less than a single strike. I won't use soul power; I'll only rely on my sword skills and techniques to spar with you."

Shen An nodded seriously. The old man before him was the pinnacle of sword mastery on the Douluo Continent. No amount of respect was too much.

Shen An had been learning basic sword techniques from Tom, and due to his love for swordsmanship, he had been undefeated so far.

Perhaps it was because most of his opponents were too weak, but Shen An had no idea how skilled he truly was. Maybe this old man could give him the answer.

Shen An's grip on his sword was textbook perfect, and his usually gentle demeanor instantly transformed into the sharp aura of a swordsman.

In Shen An's eyes, Chen Xin seemed to merge with the heavens and earth, leaving no openings. It was as if Shen An had no idea where to even begin.

This sense of helplessness made Shen An feel a pang of defeat. Is this what a true sword master is like? Nothing like those brutes like Zhao Wu Ji. 

But since he had decided to fight, he would give it his all. Shen An steeled his resolve, cutting away all distractions and leaving only the purest fighting spirit.

Never before had Shen An been so focused. His bright eyes locked onto Chen Xin. If there are no openings, I'll create them! 

Slash, chop, thrust, slice...

With the Nine-Leaf Sword Grass in hand, Shen An unleashed a flurry of sharp sword techniques. Yet, against Chen Xin, they all seemed to vanish without a trace.

Chen Xin remained stationary, not even exerting much force, but his ancient Seven Kill Sword always found Shen An's weak points.

The clash of swords sparked dazzling flames and produced a mesmerizing metallic clang.

Shen An poured everything he had into his attacks. The Nine-Leaf Sword Grass and its illusory counterpart worked in tandem, one real and one virtual, one high and one low, as Shen An split his focus to unleash waves of sword energy.

The green sword energy was razor-sharp, but when it landed on Chen Xin, it dissipated like mud sinking into the sea. This wasn't due to soul power but pure swordsmanship.

Ning Rongrong and the others watched the spar with excitement. Whether it was Shen An's adaptability or Chen Xin's majestic presence, the spectacle was breathtaking.

Only Tom remained unimpressed. This old man who tried to take me away has decent sword skills, but if this is all he's got, he's no match for my old friend. 

What Shen An didn't notice was the growing admiration in Chen Xin's eyes. The initial intention to use the spar as an excuse to teach Shen An a lesson had completely vanished.

Chen Xin could see it clearly—Shen An's swordplay was brimming with vitality. Even the most basic moves became endlessly versatile in Shen An's hands, as if they were born from nature itself. This is the rarest of talents, the finest jade. 

Chen Xin had devoted his life to the sword. He had no children, let alone a disciple to inherit his legacy. His lifelong dream was to reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship, surpassing his father and defeating Qian Daoliu.

But now, seeing such a prodigious talent in Shen An, Chen Xin's heart stirred. If I could pass on my legacy to him, it would be a beautiful thing. 

"Whew!"

Shen An had given it his all, but he was still no match for Chen Xin. The feeling of facing an unfathomable depth was similar to sparring with Tom.

Chen Xin was the kind of strength that inspired despair, making it impossible to gauge his true limits. Tom, on the other hand, always seemed just a step ahead, and his limits had yet to be seen.

However, this battle also allowed Shen An to witness a different style of swordsmanship from Tom's.

If Tom's swordplay was like the simplicity of the Dao—one giving birth to two, two giving birth to three, and so on—then Chen Xin's swordplay was the culmination of countless techniques, the epitome of complexity.

But regardless of which path they followed, neither was something Shen An could fully comprehend at his current level.

Shen An had been practicing swordsmanship for less than a month. It was only natural that he was far from matching the likes of the prodigious Tom or the Sword Douluo Chen Xin.

"Elder Chen Xin, you stand at the pinnacle of swordsmanship. I am far from your level and deeply admire you," Shen An praised sincerely. This spar had taught him a great deal, and he could feel Chen Xin deliberately guiding him to bring out his full potential.

Chen Xin's usually indifferent eyes were now filled with appreciation.

Shen An's swordplay was too full of life. His martial soul quality and swordsmanship talent were both exceptional and most importantly, he was still young, with limitless potential.

"Young man, do you have a master? Or who taught you swordsmanship?"

Chen Xin didn't think anyone could have taught such a rare talent. Shen An's swordplay had a natural, untamed quality to it.

Chen Xin asked out of habit, fully expecting Shen An to say no. If that were the case, he would immediately propose taking Shen An as his disciple.

With his reputation as the Sword Douluo, he was confident the young man wouldn't refuse. Chen Xin even began to imagine a future where Rongrong and his disciple might... well, it wasn't impossible.

"No one taught me swordsmanship, but my cat usually gives me some pointers," Shen An said, scratching his head and pointing at Tom.

"Very well. Since no one taught you, would you be willing to become my disciple?" Chen Xin said with satisfaction, but then his usually calm face showed a hint of confusion.

Wait, your cat teaches you??!