Chapter 166: The Terror of the Soaring Martial Artist, Lifelong Learning, Epiphany of Killing Method

Chapter 166: The Terror of a Soaring Martial Artist, a Lifetime of Learning, an Epiphany of a Killing Move [Golden Throne]

An orthodox martial artist never needs to adapt to power.

Power is, by its very nature, something honed through relentless cultivation, minute by minute, second by second.

—The Fearless Zone.

This was the activity area for members of the "Fearless War Brigade," filled with a cold, stark metallic quality.

Beneath the massive alloy dome were scattered independent teleport platforms, power armor preparation zones, and tactical discussion rooms.

The air was thick with the scent of machine oil, ozone, and a faint burnt odor unique to energy conduction, blending into a distinctive aroma of iron and fire.

A cold electronic prompt sounded on Qin Feng's identity wristband, guiding him to the designated C-7 assembly point.

From a distance, he saw three figures.

They were not gathered in small groups chatting idly like ordinary students; instead, each occupied a corner, standing in a posture that seemed relaxed but was actually ready to strike at any moment.

One leaned against a weapon rack, cradling a long blade with a ferocious shape and dark golden patterns;

Another stood with hands in pockets, leaning against the cold wall, his eyes sharp as an eagle's;

The third paced slowly in the open space, each step measured as if by a ruler, habitually twirling an alloy short rod without a spearhead—clearly the shaft of a long spear.

These were Qin Feng's teammates for this mission, veteran members of the Fearless War Brigade—Yu Lin, Carlo, and Linzhou.

Qin Feng's steps were unhurried, each footfall landing on the seams of the metal floor, producing a dull, rhythmic echo.

In this vast, slightly empty area, the sound was particularly distinct.

The moment he stepped into the assembly point, the three independent figures' gazes, like iron filings drawn to a magnet, converged on him in unison.

At that instant, the air seemed to freeze.

The pupils of Yu Lin, Carlo, and Linzhou contracted almost simultaneously.

As senior students who had immersed themselves in the Canaan Starry Sky Martial University for over sixty years, as elites who had fought through countless life-and-death missions, their perceptions were honed to an extreme sharpness.

To them, ordinary martial artists, no matter how high their vitality index, were merely quantifiable data.

Yet the moment Qin Feng's figure came into view, an uncontrollable, highest-level alarm blared in their minds.

An indescribable, extremely dangerous aura emanated from that seemingly calm young figure!

The weight of danger pressed heavily on their hearts, causing every muscle to tense involuntarily.

"Hiss..."

Carlo, leaning against the wall, fixed his eagle-sharp eyes on Qin Feng, a storm raging in his heart.

"This feeling... who is this kid? Is there such a figure among the seniors?"

He quickly searched his memory for the top experts who had risen to fame in recent years, but could not match this young man to any name.

Yu Lin, holding the long blade, felt it even more directly.

His sword trembled slightly.

"What a terrifying physique... This is hardly a body a martial artist at the aperture-opening stage should possess! Every cell of his seems to roar with excitement. Wait, this face looks familiar..."

Yu Lin frowned, fragments of memory colliding rapidly in his mind.

"It's him!"

Linzhou, who had been pacing, suddenly stopped, and the spear shaft in his hand ceased its rotation.

He remembered.

Twelve years ago, that prodigy who shone brilliantly at the Newcomer Cup, crowned with titles like "Qin Beast" and "Uncrowned King"!

"I didn't expect the captain for this mission to be Qin Beast."

A flicker of realization passed through Linzhou's mind, but it was followed by a deeper shock.

"He vanished for a full twelve years; I thought he'd hit a bottleneck and faded into obscurity. But now... reappearing, he's grown to such a level!"

His gaze was filled with disbelief. "To take on this mission, the hard threshold for vitality index is 1500 points. That means this monster, who had only a little over 500 points twelve years ago, has now reached at least 1500!"

The moment this thought surfaced, Linzhou himself was startled.

Twelve years, a surge of 1000 points in vitality index? What did that mean?

For them, the so-called "geniuses," practicing the top-tier "superior aperture-opening method," with the vast resources provided by the war brigade, executing missions and cultivating in seclusion year-round, an average increase of 30 points per year was already considered exceptional, worthy of celebration.

But this monster before them had increased by nearly 80 points per year?!

That wasn't even the most terrifying part.

The most terrifying was that everyone knew Qin Feng practiced the "ultimate aperture-opening method"—the most difficult, resource-intensive, and slowest to progress.

With the hardest technique, he had carved a path of cultivation several times faster than anyone else!

This could no longer be described as "genius"; it was simply an irrational anomaly!

The same word surfaced in the minds of the three veteran students: monster.

"Terrifying, truly a terrifying monster."

At that moment, any trace of superiority they felt as seniors vanished, replaced by a heartfelt admiration and awe for this junior prodigy.

This was the Canaan Starry Sky Martial University—a place that never lacked miracles and monsters.

Under the complex gazes of the three, Qin Feng walked up and stood before them.

He could keenly sense the subtle fluctuations in their emotions—from initial vigilance and scrutiny, to shock and recognition, and finally to calm reflection.

He paid it no mind, merely nodding calmly and breaking the silence first.

"Greetings, senior brothers. I am Qin Feng, captain of this mission."

His voice was steady.

The first to recover was Linzhou. He put away his spear shaft, a hearty smile spreading across his face as he extended his hand. "Hello, finally we meet our captain for this mission. I'm Linzhou, enrolled sixty-seven years ago, just broke through by luck, now a sixth-level soaring martial artist. As you can see, I'm skilled with the long spear."

There was a hint of camaraderie in his gaze, for he knew Qin Feng was also adept with the spear.

"Carlo."

The eagle-eyed man leaning against the wall also stepped forward, speaking succinctly: "Vitality index 1550, enrolled sixty-five years, sixth-level soaring, I use power claws."

Finally, Yu Lin, who held the long blade and exuded the most domineering aura, spoke. His voice was like the grating of a blade, carrying a metallic edge: "Yu Lin, vitality index 1580, enrolled sixty-eight years, sixth-level soaring martial artist, skilled with the long blade."

The information relayed by the three in succession caused a flicker of barely perceptible surprise in Qin Feng's eyes.

"Sixth-level soaring martial artists?"

He mused inwardly.

He hadn't expected all three teammates to be sixth-level martial artists!

Earlier, his mentor Gu Yue had explained in detail the deep connections between the fourth, fifth, and sixth levels.

In fact, from the fourth-level aperture-opening stage, to the fifth-level aperture-merging stage, and then to the sixth-level soaring stage, these three realms could, in a sense, be seen as different phases of the same major level.

Fourth-level aperture opening, fifth-level aperture merging.

And at the sixth rank, Soaring, one begins cultivating mental strength, striving to break through the four limitations and advance to a planetary lifeform!

At this stage of martial arts, a warrior's mental strength is already powerful enough to initially interfere with the material world, even capable of using mental strength to lift the physical body, briefly breaking free from planetary gravity to achieve "soaring" flight.

This is also the origin of the sixth-rank warrior's title, "Soaring."

"Looking at it this way, purely in terms of vitality index, my current 1730 points is no longer inferior to, or perhaps even surpasses, the seniors who have just broken through to become sixth-rank Soaring warriors."

"However..."

Qin Feng's thoughts raced. "If we consider overall strength, especially with the addition of 'mental strength,' the current me is probably still far from it."

He held a clear understanding of this in his heart.

Until this moment, all his experiences with mental strength had come from passive perception.

Such as clarity of thought, complete concentration, multitasking, and so on.

He could enjoy the benefits of a powerful mind, yet he had never been able to actively perceive and utilize it like a true master of mental strength.

Meanwhile, Lin Zhou, Carlo, and Yu Lin before him, as genuine sixth-rank Soaring warriors, possessed mental strength powerful enough to interfere with the material world!

That was an entirely different realm.

A mere glance might warp the air, a low shout might shake the soul, and at full burst, it could even form a mental field.

"If I carefully benchmark myself against them, my overall strength is probably still slightly inferior to these three seniors."

Qin Feng made a judgment in his heart.

Though he held the upper hand in pure physical strength, he was far less versatile than them in the dimensions and methods of combat.

"The domain of mental strength... truly makes one yearn for it."

Qin Feng lamented silently, suppressing his chaotic thoughts. He then reported his own data in a calm and sincere tone: "Qin Feng, vitality index 1730.0, twenty-two years since enrollment."

As his voice fell, though Lin Zhou and the other two had long anticipated it, hearing the terrifying number "1730.0" with their own ears still caused the corners of their eyes to twitch slightly.

This number exceeded Yu Lin's, the highest among the three of them, by a full 150 points!

The speed of progress was just too fast.

The three exchanged glances, each seeing the same shock and reassurance in the other's eyes.

They rejoiced that the captain for this mission was such an unreasonably formidable monster; the success rate of the mission had undoubtedly increased significantly.

"Junior Qin Feng, your reputation precedes you."

Lin Zhou was the first to break the brief silence, the smile on his face growing much more genuine. "We still remember your performance in the Rookie Cup twelve years ago vividly. Seeing you today, you truly live up to your reputation."

"The senior flatters me,"

Qin Feng responded politely.

After brief pleasantries, Qin Feng went straight to the point, detailing the specifics of the mission to the three of them.

"...That is the situation. Our objective is to head to the Death Planet 'K-7,' which is occupied by the Greenskins, to recover a 'primordial aperture' left behind by a fallen sixth-rank warrior. According to intelligence, that fifth-rank warrior fell thirty years ago, so his primordial aperture should still retain considerable vitality. The Greenskin tribe on Planet K-7 is of significant scale, with existence at the 'War Boss' level, and possesses numerous 'Big Mekboys' and 'Elite Boyz' under its banner. Here is all the data for the mission, seniors can take another look."

He projected the data organized by Hammer into the air, his tone quite courteous. He showed no arrogance from being the mission poster or possessing great strength, instead revealing respect for the three senior students at every turn.

This attitude undoubtedly won him immense goodwill from Lin Zhou's group.

Qin Feng's composure and humility allowed them to completely put their worries to rest.

"The mission is clear, and the risks are controllable,"

Yu Lin evaluated succinctly after reviewing the data.

"Greenskins are just a bit troublesome, impossible to wipe out completely, but they pose little frontal threat,"

Carlo scratched his chin and added. "The key is finding that primordial aperture. The environment of a Death Planet is complex, so it will take some time."

"Then it's settled,"

Lin Zhou finalized the decision. "No time to lose, we shall gear up immediately and set out."

"Good,"

Qin Feng nodded in agreement.

The four then walked toward the adjacent power armor preparation area.

Qin Feng practicedly retrieved his "Punisher Class I" power armor from his subspace storage unit. Upon the confirmation of his identity information, cold mechanical arms extended from both sides, installing the pieces of the heavy, menacing, Warhammer-style power armor onto his body one by one.

"Clack... Clank..."

Cuirass, backplate, pauldrons, vambraces... pieces of ceramite-like armor plates gleaming with cold metallic light locked seamlessly onto his torso and limbs under the push of hydraulic devices.

Finally, the heavy helmet slowly descended, locking tight with the life-support ring at his neck with a soft hiss.

Before his eyes, a stream of pale blue data flashed by, projecting the tactical HUD interface onto his retina—vital signs, energy reserves, ammunition count, radar tracking... all functions normal.

Qin Feng habitually moved his limbs, feeling the changes brought by the power armor.

This time, however, the sensation was entirely different from before.

He could clearly feel that when he exerted force, the micro-energy core inside the power armor was running at overload, and the mechanical transmission structure let out a faint groan.

That massive strength amplification, which had once made him feel like a god descending to earth, had now become much less noticeable.

"This 'Punisher Class I' power armor is standard equipment distributed on a large scale by the Empire for fourth-rank warriors. At the beginning of its design, its adaptation range was basically modeled on the superior aperture-opening method, most suitable for warriors with a vitality index between 30 and 570 points."

"And I now... with a vitality index of 1730 points, have long exceeded its optimal adaptation range."

Qin Feng understood clearly.

Now, the amplification this power armor provided him in terms of strength, speed, and endurance was already negligible.

Its greatest utility was left only to its powerful defense system, comprehensive battlefield life-support system, and the versatility to mount heavy weapons.

He felt like a giant of a man forcing himself into a suit of armor tailored for a youth; though it could be worn, it carried an awkward sense of restraint at every turn.

"It seems it's time to change gear."

This thought popped up uncontrollably from the bottom of his heart, and immediately after, a list of demands automatically generated in his mind.

"Once this mission is completed and the contribution points surplus grows, I must go exchange for a higher-level power armor, at least the 'Defender' series used by fifth-rank warriors."

"The fourth-rank alloy spear should also be replaced. With my current strength, under full burst, this standard spear probably won't last a few strikes before shattering. It needs to be replaced with a weapon forged from fifth-rank alloy."

"Furthermore, to handle different combat situations, I need to buy another long staff. After all, the [Wind and Thunder Staff] has already been mastered and is a major trump card. Since spears and staves share the same origin, the long staff will definitely be one of my primary weapons."

"In addition, for operations on a planetary surface, a small personal flyer is also indispensable, which can greatly enhance mobility..."

"Most crucially, breaking through to a fifth-rank warrior later on will also require exchanging for the follow-up manual of the 'Great Sun Aperture-Opening Method'—the 'Great Sun Aperture-Merging Method.' That thing is definitely an astronomical figure..."

The more Qin Feng thought, the more his head ached.

"So poor..."

Qin Feng let out a helpless sigh in his heart.

However, this emotion vanished in a flash.

He quickly reaffirmed his resolve.

"It's useless to think about all this. Food must be eaten bite by bite, and the path must be walked step by step. The most important thing right now is to finish the mission first, earn contribution points, and continuously raise my strength. As long as my strength is great enough, the speed of earning contribution points will naturally become faster and faster."

Strength was the foundation of everything.

Soon, Linzhou, Carlo, and Yulin were also fully prepared.

The power armor they wore varied in model, clearly deep-customized to match their individual combat styles, far superior in quality to the standard-issue suit Qin Feng wore.

Four war machines, brimming with the aesthetic of steel and power, stepped with heavy strides onto the C-7 teleportation platform.

"Coordinates locked: Death Planet K-7."

"Warp beacon calibrated."

"Energy injection commencing. Estimated teleport time: three, two, one..."

As the cold electronic countdown ended, a blinding white light flared abruptly on the platform.

Space seemed twisted and folded by an invisible giant hand, forming a deep vortex.

The four figures quickly grew blurred and ethereal in the white light, until they vanished completely.

—

The dizziness of warp teleportation receded like a tide, replaced by a nauseating stench, a foul mix of rotting fungus and corroded metal.

The four grim war machines, after the last ripples of distorted light dissipated, landed heavily on solid ground.

This was Death Planet, K-7.

The sky was a sickly yellow, thick clouds like burial shrouds soaked in corpse oil pressing heavily overhead.

The air was thick with choking gunpowder and the sweet, rank smell of spores; every breath felt like swallowing a pinch of rust and dust.

"Greenskin gatherings have a powerful WAAAGH! field; warp teleportation generally doesn't send you directly into the core of the field."

Linzhou's steady voice sounded in the team's comm channel. Out of habit, he explained to Qin Feng, the least experienced member: "That would be like diving headfirst into a boiling cauldron of oil. The teleport beacon would be severely disrupted, the landing point would shift unpredictably, and you might even be torn apart by the raging warp energy."

He paused, then added: "Of course, it's not absolutely impossible. In truly urgent military situations, there are always fearless madmen willing to take that risk, but the casualty rate would be horrifyingly high."

Qin Feng nodded, indicating he understood.

His gaze swept across this barren and hostile land.

The four stood silently, like steel gods from ancient myths, exuding a cold and deadly aura.

In their armor, they all reached a terrifying height of two point four meters, embodying the heavy and ferocious style of Warhammer.

Qin Feng wore the "Punisher I" standard-issue power armor, the most ordinary of the four, yet on him, with his restrained but terrifying life force, it seemed especially solid as a mountain.

In his hand, he gripped a fourth-grade standard-issue alloy spear, its blade gleaming with a cold, eerie light under the dim yellow sky.

Linzhou's power armor was deeply customized, with smoother lines and auxiliary thrusters on the shoulders and legs, showing his extreme pursuit of mobility.

His spear was already fitted with a head, cold light flickering.

Carlo's form was the most bizarre; his power armor had an asymmetrical beauty, his right arm noticeably thicker and more ferocious than the left, ending in a pair of massive power claws shimmering with energy arcs.

He leaned against a rusted boulder, like a fierce bird ready to pounce on its prey.

And Yulin was like the team's anchor.

His power armor was the heaviest, with shoulder guards engraved with the emblem of Canaan Star Martial University, full of classical splendor and iron-blooded dominance.

In his arms, he held a dark-golden greatsword as wide as a door panel; the intricate patterns on the blade seemed to breathe slowly, silently telling of the countless powerful enemies it had slain.

On their tactical HUDs, a holographic map jointly constructed by the S-class AI assistant Hammer and the Fearless War Brigade's database had unfolded.

A coordinate point flashing red was clearly marked at the map's center, surrounded by a large green area representing high-density life signals.

That was the core of the greenskin tribe.

The Yuanqiao was there.

The four exchanged silent glances behind their cold visors, their killing intent equally cold.

They were all waiting for the team leader's command.

"The Yuanqiao is at the core of the greenskin tribe."

Qin Feng's voice broke the silence, calm and unruffled: "It seems we'll have to kill all these greenskins."

"Heh."

Carlo let out a low laugh, the joints of his power claws opening and closing with a grating "click."

"Then let's kill."

Yulin was succinct, lifting the greatsword in his arms slightly, its blade pointing toward the outline of the distant tribe.

Linzhou laughed heartily, twirling his spear: "It's been a while since we've had such a good brawl. Perfect for loosening up on these greenskins."

"Seniors, all three of you are sixth-level Skyborne martial artists, already cultivating psychic power. I don't have much understanding of it."

Qin Feng said frankly, not insisting on command just because he was the leader: "So, in battle, feel free to act as you see fit. I won't micromanage your fights."

He paused, his steady gaze sweeping over his three teammates' visors.

"I believe that with our martial instincts, we can achieve perfect coordination."

"That's certain."

Linzhou, Carlo, and Yulin replied almost in unison.

Their voices were filled with absolute confidence.

This was the pride of elite martial artists, the tacit understanding forged through countless life-and-death battles.

They didn't need detailed orders; a glance, a gesture was enough to grasp each other's tactical intent.

The moment the words fell, the four moved.

No more words were needed.

Qin Feng took the center, like the tip of a blade.

Linzhou and Carlo flanked him on left and right, forming a supporting formation.

Yulin brought up the rear, his domineering greatsword the team's most solid shield.

A simple yet efficient diamond assault formation took shape instantly.

The four steel gods began their heavy march, charging silently and resolutely toward the greenskin tribe in the distance, a place built of scrap metal, giant mushrooms, and filthy totems.

The moment they stepped into the tribe's outer perimeter, piercing roars and strange horn calls erupted from all directions.

The war had begun.

The battle's prelude was opened by the lowliest greenskin boyz.

They surged out like a green tide from "buildings" made of garbage heaps, wrecked war vehicles, and giant fungi.

Most were bare-chested, their dark green skin daubed with crude red and white graffiti, wielding simple, large-toothed choppas and exaggerated "shootas" that looked ready to explode at any moment.

"WAAAGH!!!"

This was a war cry beyond words; it wasn't just sound, but a spiritual shock, a pure will that fused slaughter, war, and destruction into one.

For greenskins, fighting wasn't for survival or honor, but like humans eating, breathing, or reproducing—the most primal, joyful desire in life.

They laughed, roared, reveling in this sudden carnage.

Yet they crashed against a reef forged of steel and will.

Qin Feng led the charge, his alloy spear becoming a barrier of death.

His killing techniques had reached the pinnacle of mastery; with one move, "Dragon's Hidden," the spear image became an invisible wall, instantly piercing and tearing apart any greenskin who dared approach.

His steps were terrifyingly steady, each one like driving a nail into the earth; no matter how the green tide crashed against him, it could not budge him an inch.

Linzhou's long spear was as agile as a dragon; his figure wove through the gaps among the greenskins, and every seemingly casual point, thrust, or sweep of the spear precisely shattered a greenskin's skull or heart.

His combat was more like an elegant dance—efficient and deadly.

Carlo, on the other hand, was pure aesthetics of violence.

He plunged into the enemy ranks like a bird of prey; each swing of the vicious power claws on his right arm sent limbs and severed body parts flying through the air.

He couldn't even be bothered to block, letting the crude choppas hack at his power armor, sending up showers of sparks, before tearing his enemies to shreds with even more ferocious movements.

Yulin's blade style was grand and sweeping; he didn't need to charge, just stood behind the formation, and with each swing of his sword, a visible blade aura coiled forth.

Where the blade aura swept, a dozen greenskin boys fell in neat rows like mown wheat, the cuts as smooth as a mirror.

The four-man battle formation was like a high-speed grinding mill of flesh and blood, advancing unswervingly toward the heart of the tribe.

The number of greenskins seemed endless, but their corpses piled up even faster.

The tribe's environment was filled with chaos and filth.

Huge structures were pieced together from countless warship wrecks, industrial waste, and enormous, mushroom-like organic matter, their surfaces daubed with red flame and lightning patterns symbolizing "faster" and "louder."

On walls and floors, graffiti of "Gork and Mork" painted in blood or dye was everywhere—two massive, tusked greenskin gods, the spiritual totems of all greenskins.

Gork is brutal and cunning, Mork is cunning and brutal.

In the air, the WAAAGH! field grew ever denser, even causing slight malfunctions in the four warriors' power armor sensors.

The battle lasted an entire month.

How many greenskins had they killed? Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? No one kept count.

They only knew that the ground beneath their feet was already soaked with green blood, turned into a muddy swamp, and the path they advanced was paved with the corpses of greenskins.

When they penetrated deep into the tribe's hinterland, the intensity of the battle suddenly escalated.

Simple greenskin boys were replaced by more elite "Nobz."

These creatures were bulkier, wore patchwork heavy armor, and their weapons became roaring chain-axes and power claws.

Even more troublesome were the greenskins' "I think it works" creations.

"BOOM!!!"

A huge shell, made from scrap metal cans and explosives bound together, howled in, exploding beside the four, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Then, a dozen "Killa Kans" cobbled together from countless wheels, tracks, and metal legs clattered forward, their protruding spinning saws and hydraulic shears flailing wildly.

In the distance, fixed gun turrets converted from huge battle-wagon wrecks began spitting out dense streams of fire.

"Spread out! Take out the turrets first!"

Linzhou growled into the channel.

The next moment, something that made Qin Feng's pupils contract sharply occurred.

Linzhou, Carlo, and Yulin—an invisible step seemed to appear beneath their feet; ignoring the planet's gravity, they suddenly launched upward, soaring into the sky!

From the backs of their power armor, pale blue psychic flames jetted, but Qin Feng could clearly sense that those flames were more for assistance and acceleration; what truly lifted them was an intangible yet powerful force capable of interfering with reality—psychic power!

"So this is... the Sixth-Level Sky-Soaring Warrior!"

A huge wave surged in Qin Feng's heart.

He had heard his mentor Gu Yue describe this realm countless times, but the shock of seeing it with his own eyes far surpassed any words.

The three in the air became true masters of the battlefield.

Linzhou's figure traced a straight blue trajectory through the air; his spear pointed from afar at the most aggressive turret.

A torrent of psychic energy followed his will, gathering at the spear tip, then transforming into a thick beam of energy that pierced the turret with divine precision, triggering a violent chain explosion.

Carlo, like a circling hawk, locked his psychic power onto the rampaging "Killa Kans" on the ground, then suddenly dove.

On his power claws, energy arcs swelled to several meters long, like wings of death; in the instant they crossed paths with those war machines, he effortlessly sliced them into countless smoking parts.

Yulin was the most domineering; he hovered in midair, both hands gripping his sword, raised high above his head.

Vast psychic power guided the psychic energy within him, pouring it into the blade.

The dark-gold longsword emitted an excited hum, and a phantom blade over thirty meters long burst forth from the sword.

"Slash!"

With his low shout, the enormous blade shadow descended.

There was no earth-shattering explosion, only an eerie silence.

Where the blade shadow passed, whether greenskin vehicles, buildings, or those frenzied Nobz, all were silently split in two, the cuts so smooth they reflected the murky sky.

With one slash, a fan-shaped area nearly a hundred meters ahead was cleared.

Such was the terrifying power of psychic force interfering with reality!

No matter how high the vitality index, it was only physical explosion, far inferior to the destructive power of psychic force interfering with the material universe and manipulating psychic energy.

Qin Feng looked up at the three seniors in the sky like gods, his heart filled with endless longing for a higher martial realm.

He was firmly pinned to the ground, alone bearing the greenskins surging from all directions.

But he felt no fear, only an unprecedented excitement.

This was the best training ground!

"Collapsing Mountain Fist!"

Facing a roaring "War Boar" the size of a small elephant, Qin Feng did not dodge; he clenched his right fist and punched.

On his fist, it was as if a towering mountain pressed down; the heavy, violent, all-crushing intent made the air in front emit a dull explosion.

"Boom!"

The war boar's massive head, along with its hard skull, burst like a watermelon struck by a giant hammer under this punch.

[Your killing technique "Collapsing Mountain Fist" has been sublimated through endless battle; its realm has been elevated to: Mastery!]

The familiar prompt sounded in his mind, but Qin Feng remained unmoved.

He reversed his spear and pinned a greenskin trying to ambush him to the ground, then formed his left hand into a blade and slashed across the neck of another armored Nob.

"Shattering Jade Hand!"

A faint, almost imperceptible glimmer flashed at the edge of his palm. That power was condensed, sharp, and indestructible. The Nob's pride, a neck guard made from warship armor plates, was as fragile as rotten wood under this hand blade, easily cut through.

[Your killing technique "Shattering Jade Hand" has been sublimated through endless battle...]

"Splitting Stele Palm!"

A palm strike, wind like thunder, hit a crude vehicle made of iron sheets and sawteeth charging recklessly.

The immense power poured out without any trick; the entire vehicle, as if struck head-on by a battering ram, caved in from the middle, twisted, and finally disintegrated.

[Your killing technique "Splitting Stele Palm"...]

"Thunderclap Fist!"

Cornered by dozens of greenskins within a claustrophobic space, Qin Feng unleashed both fists, the sound of his blows detonating beside the enemies' ears like rolling thunders.

An invisible concussive force rippled outward, plunging every encroaching greenskin into a momentary state of stupor and disorientation, while Qin Feng seized the flash of opportunity, spinning his body to thrust his spear like a soaring dragon, instantly clearing the surrounding foes.

"Your lethal technique, the Thunderclap Fist..."

Through two long months of relentless, day-and-night, high-intensity combat, through successive life-and-death struggles that pushed him to his absolute limits, and under the enhancement of the Heavenly Rewards Panel, Qin Feng had forcibly elevated the four newly learned first-grade fist techniques—the Mountain Collapse Fist, the Jade Shattering Hand, the Monument Cleaving Hand, and the Thunderclap Fist—all the way from the realm of "Perfection" to the realm of "Mastery"!

All of this was fully witnessed by the three seniors.

"Is this kid... a monster?"

Carlo's voice over the communication channel was filled with sheer disbelief. "How long has it been? Two months? He mastered all four fist techniques to the Mastery realm? Am I seeing things?"

"You are not seeing things."

Linzhou's voice carried a trace of profound shock as well.

"His physical body is the most terrifying war machine."

Yu Lin delivered the definitive judgment, his tone heavy with gravity. "His strength is too formidable; that set of 'Punisher Grade-I' power armor has already begun to constrain him. We might very well be witnessing the rise of a legend."

"If a guy like this breaks through to the Soaring Realm and gains the empowerment of spiritual force, it will be as terrifying as giving wings to a tiger."

—

The battle line was irresistibly pushed into the absolute core region of the tribe.

This place was a colossal fortress fashioned from the wreckage of a crashed Imperial cruiser, and atop the fortress, a massive, grotesque WAAAGH! totem was constructed using countless corpses and scrap metal.

The enemies here had shifted to "War Boss" bodyguards standing over three meters tall, as well as various "Big Meks" piloting titanic war machines.

The intensity of the combat ascended to a whole new level once more.

Following a brutal, agonizing tug-of-war that lasted a full three days, the four of them finally obtained a fleeting moment to catch their breath.

With their backs pressed against an alloy wall riddled with blast holes, they silently recovered their physical energy. The air was thick with a foul stench and the heart-palpitating energy of the WAAAGH!.

Qin Feng closed his eyes, his mind frantically reviewing the battles of the past few months.

Four fist techniques at the Mastery realm, the Thousand Army Spear, the Dragon-Serpent Spear, the Wind-Thunder Staff... his repertoire of lethal techniques was already incredibly vast.

Yet in actual combat, he always felt that something was missing.

These lethal techniques were like a collection of brilliant pearls, yet they lacked a single thread that could perfectly string them together.

Involuntarily, the scenes he had witnessed during his initiation into the "Imperial Meditation Technique" surfaced in his mind, along with the vast amount of data compiled by Hammer.

In that endless, dark universe, the sole source of light.

The Emperor, enthroned upon the Golden Throne, His stature grander than entire galaxies.

He silently guarded the infinite domains of the Human Imperium; His existence was order itself, law itself, and the foundational confidence of human civilization against the malice of the entire universe.

Why did He sit enthroned?

A bolt of lightning seemed to flash through Qin Feng's mind.

The Emperor's "sitting" was not stasis, nor was it passivity.

It was a posture, a proclamation.

Declaring that "I am here, and all evils shall disperse."

Declaring that "This is human territory, where gods and demons are forbidden to tread."

This was a supreme, absolute authority, a sovereign power capable of suppressing all turmoil and chaos!

Why couldn't his own fist techniques be like this?

The heft of the Mountain Collapse Fist, the sharpness of the Jade Shattering Hand, the tyranny of the Monument Cleaving Hand, the deterrence of the Thunderclap Fist, the battlefield control of the Thousand Army Spear, the ferocity of the Fierce Owl Fist...

When all the killer moves Qin Feng had learned throughout his life were unified by a grander, more sublime will, what kind of ultimate technique would be born?

Qin Feng slowly opened his eyes, and within those pitch-black pupils, stars seemed to ignite and extinguish.

He stood up, facing the devastated battlefield ahead, and slowly assumed a martial stance.

His aura underwent a earth-shattering transformation at this very moment.

It was no longer a sharp, exposed killing intent, but a supreme majesty that stood immovable like a deep abyss and ruled over all creation like a sovereign.

Slowly, he thrust a single fist forward.

This punch did not stir any tempestuous winds, nor did it emit any startling sound.

However, in the space directly before his fist, a bizarre, heart-stopping change manifested.

The air seemed to turn into viscous amber, and everything froze.

The charging greenskins, the flying shrapnel, the permeating gunsmoke... everything within that area fell into an absolute standstill.

Immediately following that, an invisible, irresistible, and incomparably heavy pressure crushed toward the center of that region from all directions.

"Thud... Thud... Thud..."

A series of muffled bursting sounds echoed, and the dozen or so greenskins within that zone—whether ordinary or elite—had their bodies burst like balloons squeezed by an invisible,