Ling Yun has calculated the odds a hundred times over and surmised that he can't win. At least not yet. Well, it would be more accurate to say that Ling Yun experienced the challenge of dying again and again to this annoying little sack of crap.
But wait! If Ling Yun died, then how was he able to ruminate on the nature of his failure? The reason is simple. It's because Ling Yun was always sent back 30 seconds in time before he died.
This sounds like a great cheat and all but there exists the down side that if he met someone impossibly difficult to beat, he would be stuck in an indefinite loop of repeated deaths.
Naturally, this was the cause of his current predicament. A tall elegant swordsman wiping the blood off his sword was a killer of the highest level - at least by Ling Yun's pathetic standards - a Three Star Pugilist.
In fact, Ling Yun was currently wondering how he was supposed to beat someone an entire two realms stronger than him when he had just been promoted to a One Star Pugilist.
Furthermore, this situation was unavoidable as although he had done nothing to anger the swordsman, the man had simply decided to test his blade on him after walking out of the Whistling Thorn Sect's weaponsmith.
What's worse is that the dozens of bystanders watching him commit murder just praised him for his great swordmanship.
First of all, Ling Yun doubted anyone actually saw him move his arm - he for one didn't. In fact, he has been dodging every strike preemptively based on the cut that either took his upper body off, or sent his head flying to the dirt.
Secondly, he has also made sure to memorise every single person who woo-ed and ah-ed.
After he won this fight, Ling Yun vowed to take revenge on these people by cracking a few eggs on their bed. He didn't want to do something too drastic, lest he enters another endless loop of dying once more…
His vision turned hazy as a weightless sensation came over him. A vivid painting of a body spouting blood out like a fountain was etched into his senses as his head rolled onto the ground.
Although he had failed once more, Ling Yun was now even more determined to win. After all, it just takes a single victory for him to enact his revenge.
The painting was splashed with black ink as his consciousness disappeared and reappeared 30 seconds before his death.
This surreal feeling of returning had left Ling Yun screaming the first few times. Then, after he had familiarised himself with the act, he came to a period of time where he held existential crises regarding the validity of whether he was really alive or simply dreaming a dead man's dream.
Now.. Now, it was as simple as blinking.
He looked at the swordsman's hand. It was placed lightly on the hilt of his blade, and the moment his pinky twitched, Ling Yun rolled forward.
The air swooshed above his head, and a breath of cold air tickled the back of his neck. He ignored the countless strands of hair scattered across the ground and silently thanked his would-be killer for giving him such a clean hair cut.
He bounced to his feet and threw his shoulder into the swordsman's stomach. Despite putting all his weight into the move, the compact wall of toned muscles did not budge a single step. He expected this, which is why he immediately lifted his head up to spit at the man's face.
Ling Yun's lips had only pursed together when a palm smooth as jade pushed lightly at his chest. His feet left the ground as he was hurled back several feet at a poor bystander watching the confrontation behind him.
The entire strength of a One Star Pugilist combined amounted to a simple shove by a Three Star Pugilist. This was only one difference between a One Star Pugilist and a Three Star Pugilist.
Air escaped his lungs, and the all too familiar sound of bone snapping rang in his ears. This time it didn't come from him. It came from the man's arm beneath him being broken in two after he landed down hard on it coupled with the force of King Yun's momentum.
Struggling to contain every muscle that spasmed in his body, Ling Yun forced himself to get up. Rolling off the large squishy stomach of the man he was tossed onto, he escaped the sword speared forward by the swordsman. Unfortunately for the poor fellow on the ground, he didn't face the same luck and died without knowing why.
Guilt at the death of someone uninvolved flashed briefly across his mind, but he had seen the man die several times over, and could only vow revenge for his sacrifice. He had a few seconds to breathe as the startled expression on the swordsman's face turned into one of amusement.
A smile blessed his handsome face with a beauty that sent several women gasping. Ling Yun hated that sound. He hated that people were swooning over a killer and he hated how much he wanted to be that killer - to have the power to decide the fate of another with a single stroke of a sword.
Ling Yun yanked the sword out of the corpse's heart and lifted it with a careful precision. It was a crude mockery of the form, but it was enough to cause the swordsman to frown; not because his stance was awfully horrendous, but because his stance was awfully similar to the move he had just made.
Ling Yun's feet shuffled forward and followed suit by motioning his arms up and slashing the blade upwards. Not at the swordsman himself, Ling Yun had done so previously and died for that mistake, but at the seemingly empty spot beside him.
Clang! All the momentum and power behind the swing was stopped by a single finger. To be more precise, a single nail on said finger.
It belonged to a curvaceous woman adorned in a black-and-white robe with golden cuffed sleeves standing where Ling Yun had struck.
An emblem of a snake curled around a sword was sewn onto the chest of her robe; representing the arrival of a Shadow Guard.
"Martial Aunt Qian Mei?" The swordsman's brows furrowed when he recognised the woman's appearance. "I told you I don't need your protection."
"Feng Tian, you're in no position to make such demands, when even a child that missed a simple sword strike can withstand more than one move from you."
"So? Do you find this thing's existence a nuisance?"
"...If you plan to spite me by letting him live, then I can only pray for you to grow up sooner."
"Keep praying then," Feng Tian said. "Because in the future, you'll be praying to me after I've conquered everything under and above Heaven! You - the stone whet. I've decided to give you the pleasure of being my slave. Do you accept?"
There was only one answer here, and it was not yes. Ling Yun had accepted the offer and thrown away his pride if only to leave the time loop, but the result of doing so had resulted in the failure of his previous attempt. The reason being that the swordsman did not like his subservient attitude and thus, slew him.
"I.." A hoarse voice bereft of emotion and youth left his mouth.
This time, Ling Yun will choose a different path.
This time, Ling Yun will choose a path that won't lead to his survival.
Why? Because he was angry. And because he could always try again.
"I.. think your mother was a pig because only she could give birth to trash like you. You look like the kind of person who needs a microscope to measure the size of your---"
The remaining words did not leave his mouth before Ling Yun once more saw a body spurting out a fountain of red. 'What an exquisite painting,' he thought.
The next thing he knew, he found himself standing once more thirty seconds into the past.