Chapter 309: Blood Compass

Chapter 309: The Blood Compass

The fortune-teller Yu Xiu cast a glance at Qi Yuan, his face bearing an inscrutable expression.

“This young brother speaks strangely, but… whatever you wish to divine or seek, today… I shall fulfill it for you.”

After all, this was the method to lift the curse upon him.

The fortune-teller Yu Xiu silently recited this in his heart.

The curse he had contracted could only be alleviated by using these props, coming… here to tell fortunes.

These props were all single-use.

It could be said that anything in this world could be divined.

“Place your hand on the bronze plate, and I shall know the answer,” the fortune-teller said softly.

“Very well.” Qi Yuan placed his hand on the bronze plate.

North Crane Han Xianyun’s face showed a strange expression; the two before him were odd.

The fortune-teller aside, he was somewhat mysterious.

This Qi Yuan, participating in the martial arts tournament, spoke deliriously—game completion? What did that mean?

South Lion Zhang Yang’s lips curled into a disdainful smile: “It seems today there is more than one madman.”

He was always arrogant, looking down on everyone.

He was of noble birth, a close friend of the legendary Seven Martial Star family, and thus always felt superior.

His coming to the martial arts circle was an honor for that circle.

Now, he was leaving the martial arts circle for a better future, naturally looking down even more on these people.

After all, generally speaking, few true aristocrats entered the martial arts circle.

Generally… they were all upstarts.

At that moment, Yu Xiu was fully focused, his blood boiling, waiting for the bronze plate’s prompt.

He was merely an ordinary man doomed to die; what did he know of divination?

The so-called fortune-telling was all done by the bronze plate prop.

But time passed second by second, and no prompt came.

Yu Xiu’s eyes showed bewilderment, his face full of confusion.

Then, Qi Yuan’s eyes fixed on Yu Xiu, and he said softly, “Well, how goes the divination? When will I clear this game?”

Yu Xiu was silent for a moment, his heart churning like a stormy sea.

Such a thing had never happened to him before.

He had a thousand whys in his heart.

After all… this was the first time a prop had malfunctioned.

Could it be… that the other was like him?

But…

He looked at Qi Yuan, his face showing difficulty: “Your question, sir, has truly stumped me.

Or… perhaps you could ask another question, and I shall try again?”

His address to Qi Yuan had changed.

Qi Yuan sighed upon hearing this: “Your divination skill is lacking; I overestimated you.

Very well, then divine this: will I be the champion of this martial arts tournament?”

Before the fortune-teller Yu Xiu could speak.

The martial artists present burst into laughter once more.

North Crane Han Xianyun looked at Qi Yuan and couldn’t help but laugh: “Brother Qi, you are far too confident!”

Just moments ago, he and Qi Yuan had exchanged names.

South Lion Zhang Yang naturally revealed a disdainful expression, his voice like a great bell as he looked at Qi Yuan: “I am also participating in this martial arts tournament.”

His meaning was clear: since I am participating, then… the champion is me.

The other martial artists nodded in agreement.

A year ago, South Lion Zhang Yang had lost to the tournament champion by only one move.

This year, his martial arts were surely more refined; winning the championship was beyond doubt.

“Kid, the man beside you is South Lion Zhang Yang; the champion of this tournament is undoubtedly him. Don’t let your imagination run wild.”

Faced with these voices, Qi Yuan paid them no heed.

His hand rested on the bronze plate, awaiting the fortune-teller Yu Xiu’s answer.

And at that moment, some information came into his view.

[Blood Compass imitation—seems able to peer into celestial secrets, capture the threads of fate. Produced by Blood Luo Island.]

Yet, just then, suddenly, a crack sounded.

The bronze plate beneath Qi Yuan’s hand developed fissures and shattered outright.

“Pfft…” Yu Xiu’s eyes showed terror, mixed with confusion, as a mouthful of blood spilled from the corner of his lips.

The prop had… shattered!

How… could this be!

Just from a simple divination, it broke!

Those around saw this and looked baffled.

“What happened?”

“Why is he spitting blood?”

“Is this an act?”

The onlookers were utterly bewildered.

South Lion Zhang Yang let out a cold laugh: “Playing tricks. I won’t stay to watch this farce any longer.”

With that, he strode away.

Seeing this, most of the surrounding martial artists also left with smiles.

Clearly, they thought Qi Yuan and the fortune-teller were in cahoots, scheming against someone.

Even North Crane Han Xianyun looked at Qi Yuan with suspicion.

This fortune-teller had earlier revealed some secrets about him—could it really be related to Qi Yuan?

At that moment, Qi Yuan reached out and pulled out his mental illness certificate.

“Take a good look—this is my certificate. Don’t try to frame me; I didn’t break it!”

Qi Yuan was always cautious, carrying his mental illness certificate with him, just in case he encountered someone trying to stage a scam.

And now it came in handy.

This series of actions instantly dispelled the suspicion in Beihe Han Xianyun’s heart.

If this were a scheme targeting him, would Qi Yuan really put on such a performance?

What meaning would such a performance have?

The fortune-teller Yu Xiu looked at Qi Yuan, equally bewildered, a flurry of thoughts racing through his mind: “This truly… has nothing to do with you.”

Artifacts—especially those of a special nature—do not shatter without cause.

This could only mean that the person and matter he had divined… exceeded the artifact’s capabilities.

But… wasn’t this kind of situation usually reserved for those terrifying monsters?

How could it appear in a human?

Could it be that this person carried an artifact that blocked divination?

“By the way, where did you get that Blood Compass? It’s quite interesting—I’d like to get one myself.

If I had that, wouldn’t I be raking in money hand over fist?” Qi Yuan asked.

At this question, a flicker of wariness instantly flashed through Yu Xiu’s mind: “You… how do you know it’s called the Blood Compass… there’s not a trace of death aura on you!”

The words slipped out, and Yu Xiu immediately regretted them.

Qi Yuan looked thoughtful: “Because I have a mental illness. Isn’t it normal for someone with a mental illness to know these things?

By the way, I’d like to ask you something—do you know about the Martial Lord of the Spiritual Path?”

Having come to this world, Qi Yuan’s task was to become the Martial Lord of the Human Path, the Martial Lord of the Spiritual Path, and to cultivate to the realm of the Myriad Paths Martial God.

The Martial Lord of the Human Path was simple—just win the martial arts tournament a hundred times.

But the Martial Lord of the Spiritual Path left him with no clues at all.

The fortune-teller before him seemed unusual, so Qi Yuan decided to ask.

“Martial Lord of the Spiritual Path?” Yu Xiu shook his head. “Never heard of it… but I have heard of the Martial Lord of the Human Path, and the Mythical Raging Dragon Martial Lord.”

This time, Yu Xiu did not hide anything. He felt that Qi Yuan, too, seemed to harbor secrets.

Otherwise, how would he know the name of the Blood Compass?

“Martial Lord?” Qi Yuan murmured.

Just then, Yu Xiu’s face suddenly changed drastically: “No good… I… have to go.”

The Blood Compass had shattered, and a faint trace of the curse still lingered on him.

He needed to deal with it quickly.

With that, he hurried away.

As for the table, it remained where it was, unmoved.

Beihe Han Xianyun watched Yu Xiu’s retreating figure, a look of curiosity on his face: “Are you two sure you don’t know each other?”

“We don’t… but he’s quite an interesting person,” Qi Yuan said.

He recalled the words “death aura” the other had mentioned.

This suggested that the other was not alone, but part of a group.

“Indeed interesting, just as interesting as you.

Could it be… that the rumors are true?” Han Xianyun thought of something and murmured to himself.

“What rumors?” Qi Yuan asked curiously.

At the same time, he sent the words “Blood Compass,” “Blood Compass Island,” “death aura,” and “Mythical Raging Dragon Martial Lord” to the robot Zero-One via his phone, asking it to look up this information.

“A while ago, a major incident happened in the State of Wugui—a military camp was wiped out.

I saw a video: a gigantic blood-red sword appeared in the sky, and in an instant… all the soldiers in the camp were dead.

There are rumors that the immortal path is reviving, and that person was a cultivator!” Han Xianyun lowered his voice as he spoke. He was excited, but a hint of dejection also lingered in his eyes.

“If the immortal path really exists, then what has all our years of effort been for…?”

He was indeed disheartened.

If the immortal path were real, then the martial path would be utterly useless.

Even breaking the limits of martial arts… would it still matter?

Could it annihilate a legion of three thousand men with a single sword strike?

Qi Yuan smiled: “After all these years of effort, can you defeat a gene-enhanced soldier?”

“…” Han Xianyun was momentarily speechless.

Indeed, even without the immortal path, martial arts didn’t amount to much.

The limits of martial arts couldn’t even overcome soldiers who had taken high-grade gene serums.

“If you can’t say something nice, just don’t say anything!” Han Xianyun grumbled, but his mood had improved considerably.

That’s right—if martial arts were useless, so be it; it had never been much to begin with.

“My only worry now is that if the revival of the immortal path is real, and the martial arts tournament gets canceled… then…” Han Xianyun’s voice carried a trace of melancholy.

No matter how useless martial arts was, it was still something he cherished like a child.

He had watched the martial arts tournament matches since he was young.

To him, those who had reached the limits of martial arts were like professional athletes he worshipped.

Given how things were developing, perhaps this world truly would see no more martial arts tournaments.

“You’re overthinking it. Even if the State of Qinyuan were destroyed, the martial arts tournament would still go on for a hundred editions!” Qi Yuan said with certainty.

“You sure can brag. If the State of Qinyuan is gone, what martial arts tournament would there be?” Han Xianyun couldn’t help retorting.

“As long as I’m here, the martial arts tournament will be here.”

“Tsk, tsk!”

The two chatted and laughed as they entered the martial arts alliance branch.

Next came the tests.

Anyone who passed could directly participate in the main competition of the martial arts tournament.

In the hall, there were over thirty people, each a martial artist, exuding sharp auras.

At that moment, Nan Shi Zhang Yang let out a loud roar, and his innate martial skill was unleashed.

A thunderclap seemed to echo across the arena.

Nan Shi Zhang Yang’s opponent, a formidable martial artist, had no time to react and fell heavily.

“Nan Shi Zhang Yang wins!” At the referee’s announcement, Nan Shi Zhang Yang descended from the arena with an air of arrogance, not sparing a single glance at the martial artist he had defeated, as if he were beneath notice.

The martial artists below looked at Nan Shi Zhang Yang with envy and shock in their eyes.

"Nan Shi Zhang Yang's skill has advanced even further since last year!"

"It seems the champion of this martial arts tournament is surely him!"

"But he... is too arrogant!"

The crowd murmured among themselves.

"Next... Qi Yuan."

At the referee's voice, Qi Yuan also stepped forward.

Bei He Han Xianyun, who had passed the test, smiled: "Good luck, future champion—don't fail the test yourself."

Yang Shan chuckled: "You're underestimating Qi Yuan too much. His talent... surpasses even yours!"

"Surpasses mine?" Bei He Han Xianyun was taken aback. "What level is he?"

"You'll see for yourself." Yang Shan's smile deepened.

Qi Yuan was just over twenty, seven or eight years younger than Han Xianyun.

Yet he had already reached the martial limit.

More importantly, Qi Yuan had only been learning martial arts for less than a year.

Perhaps he truly might, like Luo Bufan, break through the martial limit.

After all, according to records, Luo Bufan's martial talent was inferior to Qi Yuan's.

At that moment, Qi Yuan stepped onto the arena, his expression calm.

His opponent was a burly giant, whose arms were thicker than Qi Yuan's thighs.

Standing on the platform, he was like a wall.

"This kid's unlucky—he's up against Iron Armor Storm!"

"Iron Armor Storm practices the peerless defensive Iron Armor Art; his defense is unmatched. That young man can't even break through it!"

"How did he end up here?"

The martial artists below murmured, and Han Xianyun also showed a worried look.

"He's terribly unlucky. Even an ordinary martial limit would have no chance against Iron Armor Storm.

After all... the martial path... has its limits!"

The martial path was still weak, and the difference in physique mattered greatly.

That big fellow looked at least three hundred jin, standing two meters tall. Such a brute, even without martial arts, could easily defeat a martial artist.

Not to mention that he had also cultivated a hard art like Iron Armor Art.

Yet now, on the arena, Qi Yuan looked at the burly giant, a hint of pity in his eyes: "Your build is perfect for corpse refinement.

What a pity—I'm a good man."

With his words, Qi Yuan suddenly struck.

His speed, in the eyes of the martial artists present, was astonishingly fast.

Iron Armor Storm had no reaction at all.

A tremendous force landed on his chest.

"Ah!" Iron Armor Storm let out a loud cry.

But his body, as if uncontrollable, flew straight off the arena, followed by a loud crash.

The fight began quickly and ended just as fast.

Everyone present was stunned—the scene before them was too horrifying.

"This... a martial limit, and not an ordinary one!"

The crowd came to their senses, and their gazes toward Qi Yuan changed.

"So young... this talent surpasses even Bei He and Nan Shi!"

The martial artists on the field were in awe.

Even some elderly martial artists on the high platform rose excitedly.

"Has another Luo Bufan appeared in this world?"

All the martial artists looked at Qi Yuan differently now.

After all, to break through to the martial limit at such a young age—

This talent... had no precedent and likely no successor.

Perhaps... he might even break through the martial limit.

Thinking this, the martial artists present could no longer remain calm.

Their gazes toward Qi Yuan shifted once more.

At that moment, a martial artist looked at Nan Shi Zhang Yang with an odd expression: "Zhang Yang, you've got a rival this time. His strength... is probably not inferior to yours."

Zhang Yang glanced at Qi Yuan, his eyes still proud: "I'm participating in this tournament, and the champion can only be me.

Hmph, his strength... in the past, I might have thought highly of him, but now I am no longer who I was.

If not for winning the title and leaving with glory, I wouldn't even deign to join this tournament."

He was not the same person now.

He... was already a cultivator.

Though just a beginner—dealing with some mortal martial artists would be a breeze, wouldn't it?

Facing Qi Yuan and the other upstart martial artists, he felt nothing but disdain.

...

Meanwhile, in an alley.

The fortune-teller Yu Xiu wore a pained expression; on his face, dense red marks had sprouted.

These red marks covered his entire face, making it look terrifying.

"No good..."

Bang!

Bang!

Like the sound of a drum, it rang out at that moment.

He collapsed to the ground, his vision blurry, as in the mist ahead, a terrifying standing beast with two horns walked toward him.

In the beast's hand, it carried a bloodstained axe.

The scene was horrifying.

Yu Xiu's face was full of fear.

"How could it be a monster of this level... I'm done for, I'll die here..."

He felt a deep sense of grievance in his heart.

It was merely an ordinary fortune-telling, just lifting a curse.

How could such a calamity have befallen him?

(End of this chapter)