Zi Ji Pavilion — God Burial Tower.
The Marrow-Washing Pills had not come easily. With resources finally in hand, Jiang Ruochén wasted not a single breath.
For forty days straight, he devoted himself entirely to opening new meridians — day and night, no rest, no distractions.
And Heaven did not betray his effort. The results were staggering.
He had now opened five primary meridians, stepping firmly into the Fifth Heaven of the Meridian Realm, and had completely cleared every hidden meridian up to that stage.
The total number of dark meridians he'd unlocked reached forty-nine, and with the base power of Fifth Heaven added, his strength now surged to a terrifying Four Elephants of power!
Such progress would have shattered the mind of any outside cultivator.
Even the most gifted geniuses, after years of cultivation, might not open so many dark meridians — yet Jiang Ruochén had done it in a mere forty days.
This was the dominance of the Dragon Soul, and the miracle of the God Burial Tower.
And yet, despite the incredible outcome, Jiang Ruochén was still not satisfied.
His original goal had been to reach sixty dark meridians in one breath, stepping into the Seventh Heaven, but the further he went, the harder each one became. The resistance, the pain, the energy consumption — all multiplied.
So he fell short of his mark — forty-nine meridians instead of sixty.
Still, the result was already beyond anything imaginable. The only one unimpressed was Jiang himself.
"Opening hidden meridians is never easy. For forty days' effort, this result is already exceptional."
The Old Dragon's deep, resonant voice carried approval — rare for him. Jiang's progress had exceeded even the dragon's expectations, though he chose not to show it.
Jiang nodded slightly. "All the spirit stones and Marrow-Washing Pills are gone. Looks like it's time for another trip to the Constellation Chamber."
"Not yet,"
the Old Dragon rumbled, stopping him.
"You've advanced too quickly already. Do not rush further — stabilize your foundation first."
Jiang paused, then nodded again.
It was true. An inflated realm meant nothing if the foundation was hollow. Real combat strength came from stability, not speed.
"Then, Senior… how should I stabilize my realm?"
"Two ways," said the dragon.
"High-intensity combat… and cultivating a martial art."
Before Jiang could respond, the dragon's claw flicked, and a beam of light pierced into Jiang's mind.
Within it — a scroll formed out of spiritual energy, carrying the name:
『Elephant Dragon Fist』 (象龍拳).
"You lack the environment for real combat right now. So cultivate this martial art instead. When your foundation settles, then pursue further growth."
Jiang's heart leapt.
He had witnessed the destructive power of martial arts firsthand at the arena — techniques that multiplied raw strength manyfold. He had longed for one ever since, though he hadn't dared to ask. Yet now, the Old Dragon had offered one himself!
"Many thanks, Senior!" he said, bowing deeply. Then, curious, "Senior… what grade is this Elephant Dragon Fist? You said before your weakest arts were Earth-level. Is this one at least high Earth, if not… Heaven-level?"
The Old Dragon's answer nearly made him fall over.
"Yellow-grade, upper rank."
"...Yellow-grade?!" Jiang froze, eyes wide.
The dragon rolled its eyes — an oddly human gesture.
"Don't underestimate it. This Elephant Dragon Fist may only be Yellow-grade in name, but when I walked the world, countless prodigies begged me to teach it — and I refused most of them!"
Jiang's expression hovered between disbelief and skepticism.
The dragon rolled its eyes again, snorted, and turned back toward the tower's depths.
Its voice drifted back, calm but edged with pride.
"The Elephant Dragon Fist was created as a companion art to the Nine-Dragon Divine Canon.
It has four chapters — each exponentially harder than the last.
To practice even the Introductory Chapter, one must open forty hidden meridians.
For Lesser Completion — sixty.
Middle Completion — seventy.
And only after eighty can you touch Great Completion."
"When it reaches that final stage, it will no longer be a mere Yellow-grade art, but will evolve into a Heaven-grade Divine Method — the true Elephant Dragon Divine Fist!"
"Heaven… Heaven-grade?" Jiang swallowed hard, his throat dry.
"Comprehend it well," the dragon said. "When you master it, you'll understand why even Heaven fears its roar."
With that, the Old Dragon's massive body faded into the depths of the tower, vanishing completely.
Jiang stood there, stunned into silence.
A martial art that could transform into Heaven-grade? That was beyond priceless.
Even the mightiest royal families of Zhen'nan possessed only mid-tier Profound-grade techniques — and here he was, holding something that could transcend the heavens.
"Senior's gift… I will never forget," Jiang murmured, bowing deeply toward the void.
Then he sat cross-legged and began to study.
The Elephant Dragon Fist's Introductory Chapter was not long — a few concise incantations for channeling spiritual energy, accompanied by vivid illustrations of figures in motion.
With Jiang's talent and comprehension, grasping the theory was easy. Within five hours, he had memorized and understood nearly all of it.
But theory was one thing — mastery, another.
The art's essence lay in lightness and heaviness. The body must move light as a feather, yet the fist must strike heavy as a mountain.
The seven forms of the Introductory Chapter each demanded that every muscle and vein unify their power into one motion.
When executed consecutively, the seven punches would stack and amplify — wave upon wave, like the crashing of tides.
That required absolute control of internal force and an unbreakable physique to contain it.
"No wonder it demands forty opened meridians. Without such a body, you'd tear yourself apart before mastering it," Jiang muttered in awe. He finally understood why this "mere" Yellow-grade art required such terrifying prerequisites.
Seven consecutive strikes, each stronger than the last — by the seventh punch, the power would multiply manyfold. The destructive force… was unimaginable.
Elephant to Dragon — to strike like the dragon through the might of the elephant!
"I understand the principle. No time to waste — I'll start now!"
Jiang's eyes gleamed with excitement. He adjusted his breathing, circulated his energy per the formula, and began practicing the sequence — his movements blurring through the tower's vast inner space.
Each punch tore through the air with a sharp boom, ripples of sound echoing through the void.
He trained like that for three days straight — no rest, no pause.
Yet progress was slow.
He had only just managed to make his body light as a feather and his strikes carry full power. The art's true essence — sevenfold force stacking — still eluded him.
"This Elephant Dragon Fist may be easy to grasp but hard to master," he sighed.
"Three days, and I've only scratched the surface. To reach true entry, to stack seven punches flawlessly… who knows how long it will take?"
But as he looked inward, he could feel something undeniable — his body had grown denser, his meridians firmer, and his strength more stable.
That sensation of solidity, of raw physical grounding —
was something he had never felt before.