Though Wuming had been crushed by his wife's death, retreating from the world, his unmatched skill in the martial arts remained. Yet, he chose a life of seclusion.
Still, as a man devoted to the blade, his passion for swordsmanship never waned.
Perhaps only the fate of the martial world or the art of the sword could stir Wuming's attention.
That day, Wuming sat in his room, quietly delving into the Heavenly Sword realm. Suddenly, he sensed two blades passing overhead—one of them, the Peerless Sword, caught his focus sharply.
Through his senses, Wuming realized someone was flying on a sword. Sword-flight, a rare skill mastered only by the finest swordsmen, was nearly unheard of in the martial world's history.
Who in the martial world could wield such a technique? Curiosity piqued, Wuming channeled his Heavenly Sword aura, gently nudging the flyer to land.
But seeing the visitor, Wuming's surprise deepened.
First, Alex was strikingly young. How could someone so youthful have reached such heights in the martial arts?
Second, Wuming had expected a sword master, yet Alex's swordsmanship seemed rudimentary, his inner strength modest at best.
Wuming studied Alex with a mix of curiosity and puzzlement.
As a martial world legend, he'd seen it all, but Alex seemed to defy all logic in his mind.
"Junior Alex, greetings to Senior Wuming," Alex said, cupping his hands in a respectful salute as Wuming sized him up.
"Oh? You know who I am?" Wuming said, surprised.
"In all the world, only the Heavenly Sword can sway another's blade. As far as I know, only you, Wuming, have reached that realm," Alex replied earnestly.
"Well said. You're well-informed. It seems the World Alliance's network is sharper than I thought," Wuming nodded, impressed by Alex's answer.
The World Alliance, a rising force in the martial world, drew plenty of eyes. As the head of its Divine Martial Hall, Alex was no small figure.
Though secluded, Wuming's Harmony Pavilion gathered martial artists who kept him in the loop on the martial world's stirrings.
So, when Alex introduced himself, Wuming already knew his identity.
Alex and Wuming fell into easy conversation, chatting like old friends catching up. But beneath the surface, Alex's mind was racing.
Who stood before him? Wuming, a martial arts legend. His swordsmanship and knowledge were a treasure Alex was eager to tap.
What he'd copied from Law was just basic swordplay. If he could glean Wuming's swordsmanship insights, it'd supercharge his future training.
Likewise, Wuming found Alex intriguing.
His inner strength was shallow, his swordsmanship unpolished, yet this young man could fly on a sword—a feat that sparked Wuming's fascination.
As a gracious host, Wuming waved Alex to a seat, shedding his mythic aura. He personally brewed a cup of tea, and the two dove into talk of swordsmanship and martial arts.
Wuming held forth on swordplay while Alex soaked it up. As Wuming noted, Alex's swordsmanship was barely at the doorstep.
But when the topic shifted to the martial world's challenges, Alex offered fresh, bold ideas.
Drawing on three years surviving the apocalypse and a modern world's flood of information, Alex's strategies for managing martial factions and conflicts even caught Wuming off guard with their novelty.
Before they knew it, over an hour had passed. Finally, Wuming said with a sigh, "With someone like you in the world, I wager World Alliance will rule the martial world within a decade."
"Actually, even without me, the World Alliance is fated to dominate in ten years. That's the Clay Buddha's prophecy for Xiongba," Alex replied, shaking his head as Wuming spoke.
Wuming's praise warmed Alex's heart. The Clay Buddha's words came from fortune-telling, but Wuming's stemmed from seeing Alex's potential. Naturally, Alex relished the compliment—who doesn't love a good ego boost?
"The Clay Buddha, the world's top fortune-teller—his word is likely spot-on," Wuming said, nodding, familiar with the Clay Buddha's reputation.
Watching Wuming, Alex's mind churned.
In the original story, Wuming believe in fortune-telling. Alex recalled a scene where Wuming, emerging from seclusion, consulted a fortune-teller who not only nailed his past but foresaw his future with eerie precision. That seer's skill rivaled the Clay Buddha's.
It seems that I have to use the old trick again.. Alex thought, a spark of mischief in his mind.
Keeping his face composed, he said, "In martial arts, I might rank in the dozens, maybe hundreds, worldwide. But in fortune-telling? I don't buy the Clay Buddha's claim as the best."
"Oh? You're versed in fortune-telling, too?" Wuming asked, eyeing Alex with surprise.
"Yep, when it comes to palm reading, I'm unmatched," Alex said, nodding with a confident grin.
He fixed his gaze on Wuming and added, "What do you say, Senior Wuming? Care to give it a try?"
Wuming studied Alex closely. This sudden claim of fortune-telling expertise, paired with an offer to read his palm, raised a faint suspicion.
But their chat had shown Alex wasn't malicious. Plus, with his own skill, Wuming feared no trickery.
After a brief pause—perhaps out of curiosity or to test Alex's claim—Wuming slowly extended his hand and said, "Since you're offering, go ahead and take a look."
Staring at Wuming's open palm, Alex tamped down his excitement. He reached out, gently grasping Wuming's hand.
Ding! Removable storage device detected.
A familiar prompt flashed across the computer interface in Alex's mind.
Chapter 69: Secrets of the Copy
Nearly two years had passed since Alex awakened his copy ability, and he'd learned its ins and outs well.
The C drive stored genes and bloodlines, like Magneto's genes. Its capacity was tied to lifespan, so after copying Magneto's genes, Alex was wary of adding more.
Had he known the C drive was linked to his life, he might've hesitated to take on Magneto's genes.
He'd also noticed that as the body lived and functioned, cache files built up in the C drive. When it filled up, life was nearing its end.
It was like a smartphone or computer—constant use slowed it down, bogged by clutter.
Through copying Magneto's genes, Alex learned that copied genes granted their power, but unlocking their full potential required his own training.
It was similar to Devil Fruits in the One Piece plane.
The original X-Men story showed Magneto's power growing stronger through relentless development and practice.
The D drive, meanwhile, held skills and techniques.
Copying skills without supporting knowledge meant they couldn't grow or advance.
Plus, skills needed specific conditions to work. When Alex copied Garp's Shave, his physique wasn't strong enough to use it, so it stayed locked.
Finally, the E drive stored knowledge. Pairing it with matching skills amplified their effect.
After copying Law's basic swordsmanship knowledge, Alex's Dugu Nine Swords got a boost.
But knowledge was just that—information, not power. Alex had to apply it himself.
For example, copying a scientist's nuclear bomb expertise didn't hand Alex a bomb. He'd need to use that knowledge to design and build one.
Back to the moment: when Alex grasped Wuming's hand, his mental computer interface lit up with prompts.
He skipped the C drive—Wuming was an ordinary human with no special bloodline to copy.
The D drive held a trove of skills: Nameless Swordsmanship, lightness skills, and even a hefty file for erhu playing.
Alex knew not to take on too much. His Dugu Nine Swords was already top-tier, so he passed on copying Nameless Swordsmanship.
Lightness skills were also redundant—his One Piece Shave outshone most Storm Riders equivalents.
After skimming the D drive, Alex opened Wuming's E drive.
It was packed with knowledge files, and soon, he aimed in on his target.
Swordsmanship knowledge!
"Whoa…" Alex inhaled sharply when he saw Wuming's swordsmanship knowledge file.
Law's file was labeled "Basic Swordsmanship Knowledge," a mere 4G of fundamentals.
But Wuming's was simply "Swordsmanship Knowledge," no "basic" in sight, with a staggering 28G capacity.
A 28G file was the largest Alex had ever encountered.
His E drive had only 71G left. Copying this would eat nearly half his space, making even Alex pause.
Still, a bigger file meant richer knowledge. Wuming had devoted most of his life to the blade, reaching the pinnacle of swordsmanship. A 28G file felt fitting.
Copying it would smooth Alex's swordsmanship path, a clear win outweighing any downsides.
Alex didn't overthink it. His brief hesitation came from sheer awe at the file's size.
With a mental nod, he started the copy.
As a third-level Awakened, his copying speed had improved, but a 28G file would still take at least half an hour.
Wuming watched Alex calmly, noting the flickers of excitement, hesitation, and shock on his face. The shifts intrigued him.
Could Alex really glean something from his palm? His claim of fortune-telling skill seemed to hold water.
Since this was palm reading, Alex couldn't stay silent, or Wuming might pull back, wasting his effort.
"Well, I can make out bits of your past and future…" Alex said, falling back on a ploy he'd used to outsmart Magneto.
"Oh? What do you see?" Wuming said, intrigued, leaning in.
"When you were young, you joined the Sword Sect, and you had a fellow disciple, Pojun, your master's son, right?" Alex said.
Knowing the Storm Riders plot, Alex wove Wuming's backstory into his act, posing as a fortune-teller with ease.
"Indeed. Few know of my master and Pojun," Wuming nodded, half-convinced of Alex's fortune-telling.
Wuming's tone hinted at skepticism. Rare knowledge wasn't secret—Alex could've dug it up through the World Alliance's network.
Alex caught the doubt. To sell his act, he needed something weightier.
"I also saw you as a young man, kneeling before your master, begging to learn the supreme sword art, Myriad Swords Convergence…" Alex said.
At the mention of "Myriad Swords Convergence," Wuming's palm twitched faintly, a subtle but telling reaction.
Clearly, Myriad Swords Convergence held deep meaning for Wuming, more than just a technique.
Alex pressed on, "I saw your master pit you against Pojun in a duel to decide who'd claim Myriad Swords Convergence. But just as you were about to win, your master stepped in."
He paused, then gasped, "Wait—that cave was frozen, trapping several martial artists who came to witness, including Dugu Yifang? Is the current lord of Peerless City, Dugu Yifang, an imposter?"
Alex played up his shock, as if the revelation had just hit him.
"He… his fortune-telling can uncover things only Pojun and I know…" Wuming thought, stunned, his trust in Alex's skill growing.
"So, what of the future?" Wuming asked, now eager.
More than the past, fortune-tellers craved glimpses of what lay ahead. Convinced of Alex's skill, Wuming wanted a peek at his fate.
"The future…" Alex murmured, pretending to study Wuming's palm intently.
After a long pause, he dropped a bombshell that shook Wuming to his core.
"I see the manual for Myriad Swords Convergence! And I see you mastering it!"