Chapter 11: Sword intent awakened

Chapter 11: Sword intent awakened

Ethan sat across from Ryan and Riya in the corner of the café. Warm light filtered through the glass windows, casting a soft glow over the wooden tables and steaming mugs of coffee. The waiter who brought their order moved stiffly, eyes flicking nervously toward Ethan before hurrying away. Even the faintest whispers of Ethan’s strength had spread fast.

He sipped his coffee slowly, his posture relaxed, and smiled as he watched Ryan and Riya share small glances and soft laughter.

"So," Ethan began casually, smirking, "where did you two lovebirds first meet? And how exactly did this fairytale start?"

Ryan scratched the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed. "Riya is the daughter of my mom’s best friend," he admitted. "She used to live in the neighborhood next to ours. We kind of knew each other since childhood. But yesterday... I don’t know. I was in a really depressed mood after the failure, and she comforted me. And when she talked to me..." he turned to Riya with a fond look, "it was like I was looking at an angel. So I just... proposed. And she said yes."

Riya blushed, and Ethan leaned back in his chair with a nod of understanding. That made sense—if this was all recent, it explained why Ethan had never heard about Riya before. If Ryan had been dating for a while, Ethan definitely would have known.

Their casual chat continued with warm laughter and harmless teasing, until a sudden tension pulled the air taut.

The café door burst open.

In walked a tall young man, his presence instantly oppressive. He wore a sleeveless training uniform that showcased his sculpted arms. His eyes were sharp and prideful, scanning the room until they landed on a trembling figure in the corner—Adel.

This was Kane, Adel’s older brother.

At twenty years old, Kane had already awakened an Earth Element and become a quasi-warrior. The transformation elevated his status at the university and in the community. With power came arrogance, and Kane had quickly learned to flaunt his strength and suppress the weak.

Even though Adel had failed to awaken his element, Kane still doted on his brother, spoiling him recklessly.



When he saw the bruises and cuts on Adel’s face, Kane’s eyes flared with fury. His voice echoed through the café like thunder. "Which bastard dared to lay a hand on my brother?! If you’ve ever drunk your mother’s milk, then come out and face me like a man!"

The atmosphere froze. Dishes clinked. Waiters ducked behind counters. Patrons shrank in fear.

Ethan’s eyes turned glacial.

He stood slowly, each movement deliberate. His calm steps echoed against the tiled floor as he walked forward and stopped in front of Kane.

He didn’t speak.

He simply drew back his fist—and struck.

The sound was like an explosion. Kane’s body shot backward like a cannonball, crashing through the café’s glass door. He flew down the street, bounced across the pavement several times like a rag doll, and finally collapsed in a heap. Blood streamed from his ears, nose, mouth, and eyes.

People gasped. Some screamed. Others stared in horrified silence.

No one knew if Kane was dead or alive.

But Ethan’s expression remained impassive.

There was a rule in the Alliance: a martial artist could not attack a commoner. But if a non-warrior insulted or disrespected a warrior, the martial artist had the right to retaliate—even lethally—as long as proof was provided.

Kane was not a true warrior. Only a quasi-warrior. And he had disrespected Ethan.

Even if Ethan had killed him, there would be no punishment.

But Ethan had held back. Kane would live.

Ethan turned and calmly walked away, bidding Ryan and Riya farewell before leaving the shattered café behind. He still had a few hours before his next meeting. It was time to invest in himself.

---

Back in his room, Ethan sat at his desk and opened the Alliance Store interface on his tablet. He navigated to the "Basic Sword Techniques" section and began scrolling through countless entries.

He wasn’t looking for something flashy. He needed something foundational—a technique that would sharpen his basics and deepen his understanding.

Then, one technique caught his eye:

> Foundation Sword Art

A fundamental sword style designed to solidify one’s swordsmanship. Mastery of this art increases the chance of comprehending Sword Intent—a deeper understanding of the Way of the Sword.

It was the most expensive among the basic-grade techniques—5 million Alliance coins.

Ethan hesitated.

Then, he picked up his phone and dialed.

"Dad?" he said hesitantly.

"Hmm? What is it, son?"

"I... I need some money."

"How much?"

"Five million."

There was a long silence. Ethan held his breath.

Then Jack Hunt replied, calm and unwavering. "Alright."

A few seconds later, Ethan’s phone pinged. His account balance had increased by 5 million.

He stared at the screen for a moment, his heart warmed by the silent, unshakable trust of his father.

He purchased the technique.

A file arrived in his Warrior account.

> [Ding! Basic-level Foundation Sword Art detected. Would you like to comprehend it?]



Ethan nodded. "Yes."

> [Ding! Primordial-grade Foundation Sword Art successfully comprehended.]

His eyes widened.

What should have been a basic technique had transformed. The sword art revealed itself as Primordial-level, containing the essence of ancient sword wisdom. It had only one move—but that move had distilled endless complexity into profound simplicity.

The main basic level Foundation sword art had 4 levels. If one could reach the pinnacle of level four,there was a slim chance of awakening the swrod intent. But it just just a chance. Not certainty.

Ethan closed his eyes and began practicing.

The moment his mind aligned with the sword art’s principles, a surge of Sword Intent erupted from his body like a tidal wave. The ground trembled slightly beneath him. His body moved on instinct, his index and middle fingers forming the shape of a sword.

He stepped outside just in time.

A piercing sword light exploded from his fingers and sliced through the air, so sharp and swift it left a lingering hum. It shot into the sky and—shhrrk!—cleaved a cloud in half.

Ethan stood frozen.

His body trembled—not in fear, but in awe.

He had just awakened Sword Intent, Level 1.

> Sword Intent: A manifestation of understanding the Sword Dao.

▫ Level 1: Increases strength twofold.

▫ Level 2: Threefold.

▫ Level 3: Fourfold.

▫ ...

▫ Level 9: Twelvefold.

He had only scratched the surface, but the path was now open.

A bright fire burned in Ethan’s eyes. He would cultivate this art until he reached the peak.

After two hours of practice, Ethan returned indoors, showered, and went out for lunch. He was halfway through his meal when his phone buzzed.

It was Richard.

"Mr. Ethan," Richard said hastily. "Supervisor Charles has arrived. Would you like to meet him now?"

"I’m eating," Ethan replied coolly. "I’ll come afterward."

He hung up, still thinking Richard was a bit of a pervert, but decided not to dwell on it.

---

When Ethan entered the Alliance Hall, Richard greeted him with a wide, overly eager smile that made Ethan’s skin crawl.

Richard noticed and his smile quickly faded into a neutral line. "This way, Mr. Ethan," he said, leading him to a private room at the end of the corridor.

He knocked. "Supervisor, Mr. Ethan has arrived."

A deep voice answered from within. "Come in."

Ethan stepped inside.

The moment he crossed the threshold, an overwhelming pressure crashed down on him, like the presence of a prehistoric beast. His breath hitched and cold sweat formed on his forehead. But his face remained calm.

Charles’s sharp gaze observed him with intrigue. Then, with a chuckle, he retracted his aura.

"Hahaha, I’m sorry, Mr. Ethan. I just couldn’t help myself—I had to test you."

Ethan exhaled slowly, relief washing through him. He’d thought Charles might be a hostile figure, but now he understood. It was merely a test.

"Please, have a seat," Charles said warmly. "Let me introduce myself properly. I am Charles Denver. Base Cities 1 to 5 fall under my supervision."

Ethan bowed his head politely. "Ethan Hunt. It’s an honor, Mr. Charles."



Charles narrowed his eyes slightly. "Hunt... That surname... Are you related to anyone from Super City?"

He remembered Richard mentioning Ethan’s name earlier but had been too excited to connect the dots. Now that he heard the name again, his thoughts turned toward a particular powerful—and mysterious—family from Super City who also bore the Hunt name.

"Probably just a coincidence," he muttered to himself, brushing the thought aside.

After a few moments of conversation, Charles leaned forward and said, "Ethan, I’d like to invite you to officially join the Martial Alliance as a genius-level recruit. Even without a registered soul talent, your strength qualifies you."

Ethan tilted his head. "What are the benefits?"

Charles smiled wider. Not a hint of annoyance on his face—if anything, he was pleased by Ethan’s calm inquiry. Desperation would’ve been a red flag; composure meant the boy had a solid martial heart.

"There are many benefits," Charles said, sliding a document across the table. "Here’s the agreement. Take a look. If there’s anything else you need, let me know—I’ll make it happen."

Ethan read the terms—and his eyes widened in shock.

This was the second time today he’d been stunned. The first was the 100-billion credit price of an advanced technique.

Now this offer.

It was far more than he’d expected.

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