"Halt! What did the Instructor want with you?"
Outside the residential area, Chen Zuoyi, Chen Wu, and other clan disciples blocked Chen Zong's path, their voices sharp with hostility.
"Speak!" Chen Wu pressed, closing in on Chen Zong.
"None of your concern," Chen Zong replied calmly, his gaze sweeping over them with detached indifference.
"You..." Chen Zuoyi's face darkened, while Chen Wu's hand tightened around his sword hilt, his eyes blazing with fury.
"Planning to make a move?" Chen Zong's eyes narrowed, sharp as drawn swords.
"The group leader competition is in twenty days," Chen Zuoyi hissed, his voice icy with rage. "Let's see if you're still so cocky then." With that, he turned and stormed away, his anger hanging in the air.
The Clan Hall had its rules. For newcomers like them, whose cultivation base had yet to reach the fourth level of the Qi Blood Realm, their sole focus should be diligent cultivation to break through and become martial artists. Outside the monthly group leader competition, unsanctioned duels were strictly forbidden, with severe consequences.
"The group leader competition..." Chen Zong smiled faintly, his eyes gleaming like honed blades. "I'll show you all just how sharp my sword truly is."
Chen Zong lived a highly disciplined life.
Every morning, he practiced the Tiger's Roar Manual within his dwelling. In the afternoons, he trained in Chen Chuyun's courtyard, mastering the Basic Eighteen Forms and the Three-Word Formula of Speed, Precision, and Stability. Evenings were dedicated to mastering the Tiger Force Fist Technique, True Sword Eight Forms, Phantom Shadow Sword Technique, Willow Sweep Sword Technique, and Eagle Strike Sword Technique.
Whether due to his diligent training or the benefits of mastering the Basic Eighteen Forms, Chen Zong noticed a distinct difference in his approach to the four Foundation Establishment Sword Techniques. At the same cultivation level, each sword strike flowed with newfound smoothness and fluidity. Whether gentle or razor-sharp, his movements possessed a natural, effortless grace, like drifting clouds or flowing water.
After careful comparison, Chen Zong confirmed that his training in the Basic Eighteen Forms had indeed enhanced his sword techniques, steadily improving his mastery of the blade.
On the thirtieth day of his stay at the Clan Hall, marking a full month of training, Chen Zong practiced in Chen Chuyun's courtyard.
A black iron plate, now weighing twenty pounds, was strapped to his right arm beneath his sleeve. Gripping the sword hilt, he extended his arm straight forward, aligning the sword with his forearm. A twenty-pound iron ball hung from the sword's tip.
Chen Zong stared straight ahead, his body as still as a wooden stake, his outstretched arm unwavering.
One minute passed.
Two minutes.
Three minutes.
Soon, five minutes had elapsed, and Chen Zong still held the sword aloft, motionless.
At the seventh minute, his arm trembled slightly, but he persevered.
By the eighth minute, the muscles in his arm felt like they were about to tear, throbbing with pain.
At the ninth minute, his entire arm went numb, losing all sensation.
By the tenth minute, he had reached his limit. Chen Zong reluctantly lowered the sword and slowly stretched his right arm, allowing his Blood Qi to circulate and nourish it, aiding recovery.
When he first began training, Chen Zong's arm bore a weight of ten pounds, with another ten-pound iron ball hanging from the sword tip. He could only endure for five minutes. Now, with twenty pounds strapped to his arm and a twenty-pound iron ball dangling from the sword, he could sustain the posture for ten minutes—a remarkable improvement.
While his right arm recovered, Chen Zong gripped the sword hilt with his left hand and raised it horizontally forward.
Chen Chuyun had never taught him this; it was a spontaneous idea that had emerged during his recent training sessions.
Normally, he wielded the sword with his right hand. But what if his right hand were injured or otherwise incapacitated? Wouldn't his combat prowess plummet? Why not train his left hand to wield the sword as well?
Chen Zong began to focus on sword training with his left hand. This proved immensely challenging for someone accustomed to using his right hand his entire life, but Chen Zong was determined to overcome this obstacle.
Under the same weight, his left arm was noticeably weaker than his right. It reached its limit after just seven minutes, forcing him to set the sword down to recover.
By then, his right arm was ready for another round of training.
An hour later, both arms had recovered. Chen Zong practiced the Basic Eighteen Forms with his sword, alternating between his right and left hands. To an observer, the movements might have appeared similar, but Chen Zong knew the left-handed versions lagged far behind their right-handed counterparts, requiring continued effort to refine them.
Standing casually before the wooden beads, Chen Zong swiftly drew his iron sword. A faint glimmer of steel flashed as the egg-sized bead trembled slightly. A clean sword hole appeared at its center, marking Chen Zong's gradual mastery of the Three-Word Formula of Speed, Precision, and Stability.
Another dazzling flash of steel. The second-largest wooden bead quivered faintly, a new sword hole appearing in its heart.
The third bead!
The fourth bead!
The fifth bead!
The sixth bead!
As Chen Zong gathered his strength for a final thrust at the seventh-largest bead, his sword missed the center, slicing a shallow groove across its side.
Sheathing his sword, adjusting his stance, and then drawing and thrusting!
When his right hand grew sore, he switched to his left.
Left-handed training was more challenging than right-handed, but after several days of practice, Chen Zong had made considerable progress. Adjusting his stance, he thrust his sword forward, striking the largest wooden bead squarely, though his power control wasn't as steady as with his right hand.
After three hours of training, Chen Zong bid farewell and left.
That night, in a corner of the martial training ground, Chen Zong practiced his sword techniques.
First, he repeatedly performed the True Sword Eight Forms, Phantom Shadow Sword Technique, Willow Sweep Sword Technique, and Eagle Strike Sword Technique with his left hand. Then, he focused entirely on practicing with his right.
After twenty days of relentless training, his True Sword Eight Forms had reached the peak of Minor Perfection, while the Phantom Shadow Sword Technique, Willow Sweep Sword Technique, and Eagle Strike Sword Technique had all attained the pinnacle of Great Perfection.
Hidden Sword Stance!
Drawing Sword Stance!
Thrusting Sword Stance!
The True Sword Eight Forms flowed from Chen Zong's blade.
Tonight, there was no moon, only sparse starlight. The gray-black iron sword appeared even duller in the darkness. Yet, as Chen Zong wielded it, each strike radiated a dazzling brilliance—the hallmark of True Sword Eight Forms at the peak of Minor Perfection. Every sword light was distinct, luminous, and as radiant as stars in the night sky.
Exploding Sword Stance!
Chen Zong surged forward, his spine coiling like a dragon as he channeled all his strength through his arm and into the sword. He unleashed a ferocious, unrestrained thrust, as if pouring every ounce of his power into the strike. The blade pierced the air like a shooting star chasing the moon, radiating a blinding light. Countless sparks erupted as it sliced through the air, leaving a faint scent of scorching in its wake.
Beneath the sword's path, a faint, piercing shriek rippled outward like the rising tide at the horizon.
Chen Zong shuddered violently, as if struck by lightning. A searing numbness flooded his limbs and marrow, causing them to tremble uncontrollably.
His Blood Qi churned within him, echoing with intermittent roars like a tiger's roar. Instinctively, he lowered the iron sword and assumed the Tiger Stance, purging all distractions from his mind. Silently reciting the verses of the Tiger's Roar Manual, he focused his entire will on controlling the turbulent Blood Qi.
He "saw" crimson streams of energy vibrating in intricate patterns, emitting resonant roars like a tiger's roar.
The Blood Qi surged with terrifying speed, like a dam bursting its banks, gradually slipping beyond his control. His skin flushed red, his body temperature soared, and he felt as if he were about to burst into flames.
Chen Zong remained calm, focusing all his energy on controlling his Blood Qi. Whether due to his own efforts or some other reason, the flow of Blood Qi gradually slowed until it returned to its original state. However, Chen Zong noticed that the Blood Qi now appeared different, its color more vibrant.
"Could it be...?" The thought flashed through his mind, and he immediately began circulating his Blood Qi to test his theory.
The Blood Qi surged through his body, causing his skin to flush slightly. Chen Zong instantly felt lighter and more agile. As he clenched his fist, he sensed a potent force brewing within his palm.
The standard strength for a peak third-layer Qi Blood Realm practitioner was five hundred pounds, a benchmark Chen Zong knew intimately. He could clearly perceive even the slightest increase in his own power.
There was no mistake. The circulation of Blood Qi had enhanced every aspect of his physique, with the most noticeable improvement being his strength, estimated to have increased by about one hundred pounds.
This meant he had completed a full cycle of Blood Qi Tempering in one go, advancing his progress by at least half a month compared to his initial expectations.
After three complete cycles of Blood Qi Tempering, one could break through to the fourth layer of the Qi Blood Realm and become a true martial artist.
Under normal circumstances, it takes a Martial Apprentice about four months to progress from learning the Tiger's Roar Manual to completing their first round of Blood Qi Tempering. Roughly two months are spent on the initial cultivation of the manual, with the remaining two months dedicated to the actual tempering process.
The second round of Blood Qi Tempering requires even more time, at least three months, while the third round takes at least four months.
In other words, a Martial Apprentice with average talent typically spends nearly a year tempering their Blood Qi three times.
Those with higher talent can complete the process faster, perhaps in just nine months or even half a year. Conversely, those with lower talent may exceed a year, failing to meet the Clan Hall's targets and facing expulsion.
Clearly, Chen Zong possessed considerable talent. Combined with other favorable circumstances, this allowed him to achieve the remarkable feat of completing his first round of Blood Qi Tempering just one month after learning the Tiger's Roar Manual.
"It seems I might be able to temper my Blood Qi three times within six months, allowing me to break through to the fourth layer of the Qi Blood Realm," Chen Zong thought, his eyes gleaming with determination.
Becoming a martial artist was now his second short-term goal.
With his goal now within reach, Chen Zong couldn't contain his excitement. He took several deep breaths to calm his racing heart.
Sheathing his sword, he resumed the Hidden Sword Stance.
Drawing Sword Stance!
The iron sword sliced through the air, blossoming like a crescent moon in the night sky. Its dazzling blade sang with a piercing whistle.
This marked his attainment of Great Perfection in the True Sword Eight Forms.
It was precisely this breakthrough that had unlocked Chen Zong's latent physical potential, causing his Blood Qi to surge dramatically. Through a fortunate coincidence, his Blood Qi escaped conscious control, accelerating its circulation and tempering itself through the vibrating rhythms of the Tiger's Roar Manual.
The True Sword Eight Forms proved remarkably effective. The leap from Lesser to Great Perfection in this technique brought about a far more pronounced increase in Blood Qi than the advancement of the Tiger Force Fist Technique from Great Perfection to Perfection. Coupled with his previous breakthroughs in the Phantom Shadow Sword Technique, Willow Sweep Sword Technique, and Eagle Strike Sword Technique—each breakthrough building upon the last—this cumulative progress had finally culminated in tonight's breakthrough.
Chen Zong had never openly boasted about his cultivation progress, not even to Chen Chuyun.
After consolidating his mastery of the True Sword Eight Forms, Chen Zong glanced at the sky. It was late; he needed to rest and replenish his energy for tomorrow. Tomorrow marked his first Clan Hall challenge—the monthly competition for the top spot in his group.
Group Leader—that title is mine!