Plunderer: Master of the Multiverse

For Jiansheng, the Sword Saint, Wuming's existence was a towering obsession that defined his life's purpose. Having devoted nearly his entire existence to the art of the sword, Jiansheng found himself perpetually overshadowed by Wuming, whose unparalleled mastery stood as an unyielding barrier to his own aspirations.

Naturally, the burning desire to defeat Wuming had transformed into an all-consuming fixation for Jiansheng, a goal that drove every facet of his being.

To draw a parallel with the One Piece plane, Jiansheng was akin to a top-tier swordsman, a master of the blade striving for supremacy. In this analogy, Wuming was like Hawkeye, the world's greatest swordsman, an insurmountable pinnacle that must be toppled to claim the ultimate title.

To become the world's number one swordsman, Hawkeye's defeat was non-negotiable. Similarly, Jiansheng's lifelong pursuit of swordsmanship demanded that he overcome Wuming to fulfill his destiny.

Jiansheng, having immersed himself in the study and practice of swordsmanship for decades, was acutely aware of his own condition. He knew the toll his choices had taken on his body, the strain of his relentless pursuit.

Yet, his resolve was unshakable. To defeat Wuming, Jiansheng was willing to pay any price, even if it meant sacrificing his own life. To this end, he had honed the Destructive Sword Art, a technique that sharpened his blade to unparalleled lethality and accelerated his growth at a staggering rate, despite its devastating cost to his vitality.

Alex, standing quietly to the side, had no intention of interrupting the exchange between Jiansheng and Wuming. More crucially, he saw nothing in Jiansheng that warranted the use of his copy ability.

Swordsmanship knowledge? Alex was confident that Jiansheng's understanding, while formidable, likely paled in comparison to Wuming's, whose 28G file he had already acquired.

As for sword techniques? Jiansheng's Sword Twenty-Two was undeniably powerful, a technique of devastating force. However, Alex already possessed the Dugu Nine Swords, a swordsmanship style that represented the pinnacle of combat-oriented blade work, rendering other techniques redundant for his needs.

Of course, if Jiansheng had mastered Twenty-Two Swords, a legendary technique said to even manipulate time and space itself, that would be an entirely different matter. Such a skill would be worth copying, its power transcending ordinary swordsmanship.

Wuming stood calmly, facing Jiansheng's intense presence. Jiansheng, however, was not here for idle talk or moral lessons. His purpose was singular, his resolve unyielding. "Wuming, you don't need to say more. Seeing you again today, my understanding of Twenty-Two Swords has deepened profoundly. I will definitely defeat you!" he declared, his tone sharp with impatience.

As he spoke, Jiansheng brought his fingers together, forming a precise sword gesture aimed at Wuming. His movements were fluid and deliberate, a testament to his mastery.

Using his fingers as a substitute for a blade, Jiansheng unleashed a burst of sharp sword aura with a flick of his wrist. The energy surged forward, cutting through the air with lethal precision, aimed directly at Wuming.

Yet, Wuming remained unfazed, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, seemingly indifferent to the oncoming attack. As the sword aura approached, an invisible shield of sword energy materialized around him, effortlessly deflecting Jiansheng's assault.

Wuming's demeanor was so relaxed, so composed, that Jiansheng's formidable attack appeared trivial in his presence, barely worthy of notice.

Jiansheng's expression shifted, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face as he saw his sword aura so easily neutralized. "Hm?" he muttered, his voice tinged with frustration.

Undeterred, he waved both hands, unleashing a barrage of sharp sword aura toward Wuming. The attacks came in rapid succession, dense and relentless, resembling a torrential rainstorm of deadly energy, each strike imbued with devastating power.

Though Alex had not practiced swordsmanship for long, his recent acquisition of Wuming's 28G swordsmanship knowledge file had elevated his understanding to the level of a grandmaster. His insight and perception of the blade were now on par with the greatest swordsmen, giving him a discerning eye for the art.

As he observed Jiansheng's onslaught, Alex could clearly analyze the techniques on display. "This is the Holy Spirit Sword Technique, the signature style that has made Jiansheng renowned across the martial world. It's truly formidable, blending power with agility. Moreover, his Twenty-Two Swords has reached the absolute peak of swordsmanship mastery," he thought, nodding to himself in acknowledgment.

In his mind, Alex marveled at the transcendent quality of Jiansheng's swordsmanship. The Holy Spirit Sword Technique, executed with such precision and force, was a testament to Jiansheng's skill, a style that could rightfully be called extraordinary.

Beyond his observations, Alex discreetly activated his crystal measuring device to assess the energy levels of the two combatants. The device quantified their strength in crystal points, a metric Alex used to gauge power.

Jiansheng's crystal points registered at approximately 1200, a formidable figure that underscored his status as a top-tier martial artist. Wuming, however, surpassed him, with crystal points exceeding 1500, indicating a superior reservoir of inner energy.

Setting aside their swordsmanship prowess, the raw energy strength measured by crystal points alone revealed Wuming's clear advantage over Jiansheng, a gap that spoke volumes about their relative power.

Reflecting on these measurements, Alex mused inwardly, "From the perspective of crystal points, the martial power of the Storm Riders plane is indeed significantly weaker than that of the One Piece plane. But that makes sense when you consider the scale of destruction in One Piece—attacks that can shatter mountains and churn seas with ease. Even though the Storm Riders plane has fantastical elements, it remains fundamentally rooted in the martial arts tradition…"

While Alex was secretly evaluating the crystal points of these two martial world titans and analyzing the intricacies of Jiansheng's Twenty-Two Swords, the battle unfolded before him. Jiansheng fought with relentless fervor, pouring every ounce of his skill into his assault, yet he could not breach Wuming's defenses.

The realization hit Jiansheng hard, a deep shock settling over him. He had condensed even more violent sword aura in recent days, at great personal cost to his health, and had deepened his understanding of swordsmanship. He had believed these efforts would finally give him the edge to challenge Wuming on equal footing.

But the reality was crushing. After engaging Wuming in combat, Jiansheng discovered that the gap between them had not narrowed—it had widened. The truth was unbearable, a bitter pill that he struggled to swallow.

What could be more disheartening than this? Jiansheng had poured his heart and soul into closing the distance between himself and his rival, convinced he was on the verge of catching up. Yet, the cruel reality revealed that Wuming was further ahead than ever, leaving Jiansheng's efforts in the dust.

Jiansheng's sword aura rained down like a tempest, each strike carrying terrifying power. The sheer density of the attacks made evasion nearly impossible, a barrage that would overwhelm most opponents.

Watching the display of Twenty-Two Swords, Alex nodded in appreciation. Through observation and insight, he gleaned valuable lessons, drawing parallels to his own Dugu Nine Swords and enriching his understanding of swordsmanship.

Wuming, it seemed, had only recently touched the realm of the Heavenly Sword, a transcendent state of mastery. Out of respect or restraint, he refrained from wielding this supreme power against Jiansheng, choosing instead to defend passively against the onslaught.

No matter how fierce Jiansheng's attacks became, Wuming stood resolute, like a steadfast reef weathering a storm. His defenses were impregnable, unshaken by the ferocity of the assault.

Though it pained Jiansheng to admit it, he could no longer deny the truth: Wuming's strength now far surpassed his own, a chasm he could not bridge in this moment.

With a heavy heart, Jiansheng gradually eased his offensive, his movements slowing as he accepted the reality. His eyes locked onto Wuming, and he spoke with a voice thick with resolve. "Wuming, it seems that over these past few years, it's not just me who has been striving to improve. Your progress has outstripped mine," he said, acknowledging the widened gap.

The disparity between them was undeniable, a testament to Wuming's greater dedication and the sacrifices he had made to reach his current level.

Wuming, however, shook his head gently, his expression calm but earnest. "No, you are mistaken. In truth, these past few years, I have not focused on honing my sword skills. Instead, I have been tempering my mind," he replied, his words carrying the weight of hard-earned wisdom.

Since the tragic loss of his wife, Wuming had withdrawn from the martial world, living in seclusion at the Harmony Pavilion. Consumed by grief, he had little heart for sword practice, turning his focus inward to cultivate his mental and emotional resilience.

It was through this introspective journey, free from the relentless pursuit of power or competition, that Wuming had unexpectedly stepped into the realm of the Heavenly Sword, a pinnacle of swordsmanship that transcended mere technique.

Wuming's revelation struck Jiansheng like a blow, igniting a spark of fury within him. "You…" he began, his voice trembling with indignation.

It was one thing to be outmatched by Wuming, and another to accept that the gap between them had grown wider. But to learn that Wuming had achieved such heights without even trying? That was an affront to Jiansheng's lifelong struggle.

He had poured every ounce of his being into his growth, sacrificing his health and enduring pain to hone his Destructive Sword Art. Yet Wuming, by his own admission, had not exerted himself in the same way, and still he stood leagues ahead. The injustice of it was maddening, the kind of truth that could break a lesser spirit.

Wuming regarded Jiansheng quietly, his gaze steady and compassionate. He had said what needed to be said, offering guidance without judgment. The next step was Jiansheng's to take, a matter of personal reflection and choice.

Jiansheng's character was forged in resilience, his spirit unyielding even in the face of such a blow. Though anger simmered within him, it was not directed at Wuming but at the perceived unfairness of fate itself.

He knew Wuming's character well—honest and forthright, incapable of deceit. Wuming's words were truth, and that made them all the harder to bear.

As Jiansheng calmed himself, he began to reflect on Wuming's journey. He recalled the profound loss Wuming had endured, the death of his wife that had driven him into seclusion. It dawned on Jiansheng that this tragedy had tempered Wuming's spirit, forging a deeper resolve that had, in turn, elevated his sword intent to new heights.

Understanding began to replace his anger, a glimmer of insight into the path Wuming had walked.

Seeing Jiansheng's emotions settle, Wuming spoke again, his voice gentle but firm. "You have embarked on a perilous path, Jiansheng. If you turn back now, there is still hope for you. But if you persist, your sword aura will grow ever sharper, and it will ultimately destroy you, leaving your body broken or lifeless," he cautioned, his words a heartfelt plea rooted in concern.

Wuming's warning caused Jiansheng's expression to shift, his face alternating between pale determination and flushed frustration. He knew Wuming spoke the truth—his Destructive Sword Art was a double-edged blade, cutting away at his own vitality with every use.

Yet, Jiansheng shook his head, his resolve unbroken. "It's a pity, but this Destructive Sword Art, which severs emotions and defies nature, is a path of no return. If I abandon it, my swordsmanship will crumble. I would rather die than forsake the sword," he declared, his voice resolute, his commitment to his art absolute.

Alex, observing Jiansheng's steadfast demeanor, felt a stir of empathy in his heart. The Sword Saint's dedication, though tragic, was a testament to his unyielding spirit. Moved by the moment, Alex chose to speak up, breaking his silence. "In fact, you have other paths you could take…" he said, his voice calm but carrying a spark of possibility.