High Martial: I Use Everything as Swords

"With so many Tier Two Demon Beasts guarding the place, if we try to force our way through, we’ll probably end up just like that bald guy."

"Let’s take the long way around, Captain."

Old Liu wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. "Let’s fall back two islands. It’s farther, but it’s better than getting ourselves killed here."

The other teams around them clearly thought the same.

Having witnessed the tragic scene just now, any lingering hope they had was completely crushed.

Many began to pack their gear, preparing to turn back and leave.

The atmosphere at the cliff’s edge was as stagnant as a pool of dead water.

Only the faint sound of the churning Blood Sea below could be heard, setting everyone’s nerves on edge.

The few elite Tier Two Wind Falcons were still preening their feathers on the stone pillars across the chasm, occasionally letting out a sharp cry or two.

It was as if they were mocking the helpless two-legged creatures on this side.

"Waiting around like this isn’t a solution."

In the crowd, a scholarly-looking young man with gold-rimmed glasses suddenly spoke up after running some calculations.

"A direct approach is definitely out. We don’t have enough altitude. We’ll run out of glide before we even reach those waypoints in the middle."

"Once we land on those small islands, we’d just be delivering a free meal to those feathered beasts."

"No kidding. Who doesn’t know that?"

A brawny man next to him, carrying a great sword, snapped irritably, "If you have a plan, spit it out. If not, shut up."

The young man with the glasses wasn’t annoyed. He pointed above their heads.

"We can’t get across because of the height difference."

"The other side is three hundred meters higher than us. To glide over with a wingsuit, we’d need to jump from a spot at least five hundred meters higher than where we are now to be safe."

A glint of light flashed in the young man’s eyes.

"So, we just need to find something that can fly and have it take us up."

"You mean... catch a bird?"

The brawny man was stunned.

"To be precise, capture a Flying Demon Beast that’s large enough," the young man with the glasses explained.

"We don’t need to tame it. We just need to find a way to hang on to it, or force it to carry us a thousand meters into the sky."

"Then we let go and glide down with our wingsuits."

"With that kind of altitude advantage, forget the small islands in the middle—if we’re lucky, we might even be able to fly directly to the large island on the other side!"

Everyone’s eyes lit up instantly.

Now *that* was an idea.

This place might be lacking in many things, but it certainly wasn’t short on Demon Beasts flying all over the place.

"Let’s try it!"

Immediately, a few action-oriented individuals stepped forward.

This group wasn’t stupid; they didn’t dare to provoke the Tier Two Wind Falcons directly.

Instead, they locked their sights on some Tier One Flying Demon Beasts circling nearby.

As it happened, an Iron-Feathered Vulture with a wingspan of over four meters had caught the scent of blood left by the bald Hunter from before and was circling in the updrafts near the cliff.

"I’ll do it!"

An agile-type Martial Artist in a light wingsuit volunteered.

This person was indeed skilled. After a short running start at the cliff’s edge, he leaped powerfully just as the Iron-Feathered Vulture skimmed by at a low altitude.

He spread his wingsuit in mid-air, attempting to pounce onto the Iron-Feathered Vulture’s back from above and to the side.

The idea was sound, but reality was cruel.

The Iron-Feathered Vulture just slightly tucked its wings and executed an incredibly smooth barrel roll in the air.

The Martial Artist missed completely, lost his balance in mid-air, and began to fall.

Fortunately, he reacted quickly, hurriedly adjusting his posture and reopening his wingsuit, which allowed him to make a clumsy glide back to a gentle slope below the cliff face.

"Fuck! This beast is too damn agile!"

The man climbed back up, covered in dirt, cursing under his breath.

A few more people, not ready to give up, teamed up to try again.

Some tried using lassos, others used Net Guns.

Without exception, they all returned in failure.

On the ground, human Martial Artists could probably thrash these Tier One Demon Beasts.

But in the air, a human in a clumsy wingsuit was like a tractor trying to compete with a sports car in terms of agility against these natural-born flyers.

"It’s no use. Capturing them mid-air is just too difficult."

After several failures, a bucket of cold water was poured on everyone’s enthusiasm.

"How about... we turn back?"

Someone suggested, "We could head back into the island’s interior to find their nests, or set a trap. Catch one on the ground and then figure out how to ride it?"

"And how long would that take?"

Zhang Hao frowned. "By the time we catch a bird, the Gloom Phase will probably be upon us."

"Forget it, forget it. Let’s just take the long way around like we planned."

"This plan is a bust. These feathered beasts are smarter than monkeys."

Just as everyone was about to give up completely and discuss retreating into the island’s heartland to set traps, Han Feng made his move.

He walked to the edge of the cliff and checked the buckles on his "Ghost Bat·Modified" wingsuit.

"Captain, I’ll give it a try."

Zhang Hao looked at him and nodded heavily.

"Be careful."

Wang Meng, however, grew anxious.

"Fengzi, don’t be reckless! Even the A Level Students failed, you..."

Han Feng didn’t say anything, just turned back and smiled at him.

His expression was so calm, it was as if he weren’t about to charge into a dragon’s den, but was just going for a walk in the park.

Amidst a flurry of whispers, Han Feng backed up fifty meters and began his running start.

His posture as he charged toward the cliff was no different from the others, and his takeoff was unremarkable.

But the moment he spread his wingsuit and glided into the air, everyone froze.

Han Feng, piloting the seemingly ordinary wingsuit, didn’t glide forward like the others.

Instead, he carved an unbelievable arc through the air, his body suddenly lifting upward.

He had actually forced himself to gain more than ten meters in altitude!

"Holy shit! How did he do that?"

"That defies the laws of aerodynamics!"

Gasps of astonishment erupted from the crowd.

This wasn’t gliding anymore—this was true flight!

Han Feng’s figure moved through the air with unbelievable agility.

One moment, he would roll sideways to dodge a Wind Falcon’s sharp talons; the next, he would plummet in a steep dive, only to pull up sharply just before touching the clouds and mist below.

His movements were as smooth as flowing water, without the slightest hint of stagnation.

He was even more agile, more graceful than the Wind Falcons!

His target was clear: a Tier One Peak Wind Falcon with a wingspan of over six meters, circling alone on the outskirts.

The Wind Falcon had clearly noticed this provocative human. It let out a piercing shriek, flapped its wings, and charged toward Han Feng.

Everyone held their breath.

However, the anticipated collision never happened.

Just as the two were about to collide, Han Feng’s body flipped upward at an impossible angle.

Like a weightless leaf, he drifted lightly over the Wind Falcon’s head.

Then, he folded his wingsuit and dropped vertically under the pull of gravity.

He landed, with perfect precision, right on the Wind Falcon’s broad back.

The entire process, from takeoff to landing, took no more than a dozen seconds.

At the cliff’s edge, that suffocating silence descended once again.

Everyone stared, dumbfounded, at the incredible scene unfolding in the sky.

A human was standing steadily on the back of a high-speed Flying Demon Beast.

"It’s... it’s him!"

In the crowd, a B Level Student from East Sea Martial Arts University suddenly remembered something.

He pointed at the figure in the air, his voice cracking.

"The wingsuit rapid-descent retrieval assessment... that monster with the one hundred percent success rate! His name is Han Feng!"

As soon as he said it, an uproar went through the crowd.

Even Zhang Hao, Wang Meng, and his other teammates from the Sharp Sword Society now stood with their mouths agape, their faces masks of disbelief.

They knew Han Feng’s flying skills were strong, but they never dreamed they could be *this* strong!

This completely surpassed their understanding of wingsuit flying!

"This kid... is he even human?"

Wang Meng muttered to himself, feeling like reality had just pinned his worldview to the ground and was currently grinding it into dust.

In the air, the Wind Falcon beneath Han Feng’s feet thrashed about like a mad beast, rolling and diving, trying to throw off its uninvited guest.

But Han Feng’s feet seemed to have taken root; no matter how the Wind Falcon struggled, he remained as steady as a mountain.

’This little thing’s got some fight in it.’

Han Feng mobilized the Sword Essence in his body, preparing to teach this beast a lesson and show it who was boss.

Just then, the system’s notification chimed in his mind.

[Ding! Detected Host is currently engaging in ’Sword Flight’...]

[Ding! Detected new type of ’Flying Sword’: Living Spiritual Flying Sword—Tier One Peak Wind Falcon.]

[Warning: ’Sword Spirit’ is resisting with strong will. Forcing a connection will result in a Spiritual Shock!]

Han Feng paused for a moment, then smiled.

’A living Flying Sword?’

’This system can really classify anything as a sword.’

[Notice: Host’s Spiritual Strength (265) far exceeds the target’s (approx. 105). Host possesses the Passive Trait [Heart Clarity and Nature Seeing·Entry Level]. The Spiritual Shock will be greatly weakened.]

[Force connection?]

[Yes/No]