Chapter 42: Blood Aura Fills The Sky

Chapter 42: Blood Fiend Sweeps the Sky

It would be strange if this technique were not formidable—the number one on the Heavenly List left it for his own child to practice; if it were a low-grade technique, that would be incomprehensible.

When he first started cultivating, he couldn’t sense anything special about it, and Zhao Changhe had no reference to compare its quality. Now that Yue Hongling was here, she could just happen to analyze it for him.

But though he trusted Yue Hongling greatly, he dared not reveal every secret. Zhao Changhe could only say, “I don’t know what technique this is. Look, it doesn’t even have breathing methods or mental cultivation—just blindly practicing it. Uh, maybe it’s called the ‘Random Eight Refinements’ or something… Help me see what quality my true qi is?”

Yue Hongling shot him an exasperated glare. “Give me your hand; I’ll probe it.”

Zhao Changhe obediently extended his hand. Yue Hongling pressed her palm against his, probed briefly, and her expression grew increasingly astonished.

The quality of the true qi cultivated by Zhao Changhe’s technique was absurdly high. Even though she had already tried to overestimate it, it still exceeded her expectations.

Why are there realm divisions? Whether internal or external, the manifestation of power can be quantified. Those in the same realm are roughly equal, serving as a standard for division. Being able to surpass one’s realm is worthy of praise; otherwise, what meaning would levels have?

To put it simply: when your true qi volume reaches one, you are at the first level of the Mystic Barrier. The upper limit of this realm is ten. When you cultivate to ten, you hit a threshold and must break through the second Mystic Barrier to continue increasing your true qi volume. Everyone is the same.

This is not as immediately apparent as external cultivation, where breaking through a bottleneck instantly boosts physical strength, possibly allowing a counter-kill on the spot. Internal cultivators, after breaking through, still need to accumulate further to widen the gap.

The typical difference between divine techniques and ordinary ones is that practicing a divine technique might take only three days to accumulate from one to ten, and breaking through the threshold is easy. A garbage technique might take three years to accumulate, and the threshold could torment you to death.

Moreover, a good technique’s upper limit can reach the Secret Treasury, while a garbage technique might only allow cultivation to the second or third level, with nothing beyond.

Most crucially, different techniques produce true qi of different natures or qualities. Everyone’s dantian is a reservoir of the same size—some store ordinary clear water, some store venom, some store oil, some store life-restoring nectar, and some cheaters have a pool of solid ice, which, when mobilized, equals several times the water volume of others…

The gap between prestigious sects, aristocratic families, and ordinary martial artists thus widens. A divine technique’s emergence can trigger bloody conflicts, all because of this.

Zhao Changhe had just broken through to the second level, so his dantian and meridians were a second-level reservoir. That was fine.

The problem was the quality—it was too outrageous. The cheater with a pool of solid ice mentioned earlier? That was him!

At this level of cultivation, others’ true qi was basically formless and intangible, but Yue Hongling could almost see the hazy white vapor inside him, like smoke or mist.

If this were someone stuck at the second level of the Mystic Barrier for a long time, unable to break through the upper limit, and they had to deliberately refine their true qi quality, accumulating over time to reach this level, that would be common. But he had just broken through and already had this quality? If he deliberately refined it, what would the result be? Trying to defy the heavens?

What technique was this?

“Random Eight Refinements”… Never heard of it.

After listening to Yue Hongling’s explanation, Zhao Changhe stroked his chin. “So, the problem of me starting martial arts too late—has it been solved by this technique?”

“No,” Yue Hongling shook her head. “Why is it said that one should cultivate from childhood? Because children have strong plasticity; their dantian and meridians expand gradually with practice, while yours are already set. Your meridians are too narrow to withstand violent true qi bursts and transmissions; your dantian is too small. Even if you break through to the ninth heaven, you’ll find your dantian can no longer accommodate that much true qi. Without special fortune, your lifetime achievements will likely be limited.”

Zhao Changhe smiled. “I see. Thanks for the explanation. I understand.”

Yue Hongling was surprised. “How can you be so carefree?”

A treasure that could wash the marrow and refine the meridians had been right before him, and he had let it go. At least it proved such things existed in the world. Zhao Changhe wasn’t that troubled. He said with a free and easy smile, “Heaven never seals off all roads. There are always heavenly treasures in the world. Since things are already like this, what’s the use of worrying? I’ll practice the Blood Fiend Technique for now. As you said, it’s also very strong.”

Yue Hongling had to admit that his carefree attitude suited her taste. She comforted him, “The Blood Fiend Technique cultivates blood and qi, which is actually better for a young man. It can turn your age disadvantage into an advantage, and this technique has a high upper limit. Practice it in peace for now. When the time comes, who knows if fortune will descend?”

“Yeah,” Zhao Changhe said leisurely. “For this, I’ve endured many drawbacks. It can’t be helped. Hey, speaking of which, my Blood Fiend Blade Art has a finishing move called ‘Gods and Buddhas Scatter.’ It requires an absurd amount of blood fiend qi, and it’s said you need at least the third level of the Mystic Barrier to barely use it once. Can I substitute this true qi? If so, given the quality you mentioned, I should barely be able to use it once.”

“Of course you can. It’ll just lack that fierce killing intent, and the effect will be somewhat reduced. After all, techniques matched to a specific art have their unique effects that other techniques can’t replace. But as far as the blade move itself goes, its power remains.”

“So it’s just missing some special effects like paralysis or fear, right? The power isn’t much weaker. That’s fine.”

Yue Hongling found his description strange but apt. This bandit leader seemed more cultured than herself… After a moment, she asked, “It feels like you’re asking this with a clear goal in mind. What are you planning?”

Zhao Changhe smiled faintly. “How can I get by without a trump card? It doesn’t necessarily have to be for a specific goal.”

Yue Hongling squinted at him, feeling that smile was annoying, as if he was hiding some mischief. She said, “Do you remember? I said I could teach you three things. Guiding you in internal cultivation is just the first.”

Zhao Changhe scratched his head. Distracted by various interruptions, he had almost forgotten. Yue Hongling had indeed said she could teach three things, with internal cultivation being “first.”

He gave an ingratiating smile. “I’m already very grateful for the internal cultivation. So what’s the second?”

Yue Hongling gritted her teeth imperceptibly and leisurely drew her sword. “Sparring with you.”

Zhao Changhe took a step back in fright. “What’s the point of me fighting you? I’d just be instantly defeated. It wouldn’t be effective training.”

“Fighting those small fry all the time won’t get you anywhere. Without experiencing truly difficult challenges and tasting defeat, what value is there in that kind of training?” Yue Hongling said eagerly. “Enough, no more talk. Stick out your… oh, draw your blade!”

Zhao Changhe turned and ran. “Wait, you’re still injured! Can’t we do this another day?”

Yue Hongling chased after him with her sword. “This little injury is nothing. It’s more than enough to beat you!”

“I think you just want to hit me, don’t you?”

“Don’t slander me. I, Yue Hongling, am upright and never take out my anger on others.”

“Ah, damn it… I’m fighting back!”

“Come on, let me see how much weight the great Chief Zhao carries, daring to call me ‘Yue’er.’”

“So that’s what you’ve been waiting for…” Zhao Changhe laughed helplessly, but his running steps suddenly stopped.

“If I can knock you down, then I can call you ‘Yue’er’—then I’ll give it a try!”

Yue Hongling stopped the chase with interest, about to say something, when she saw Zhao Changhe stamp his right foot, suddenly twist his body, raise his blade, leap, and slash down fiercely.

The scene at that moment was very strange, and very demonic.

On New Year’s Eve, the crescent moon hung like a hook in the sky. A blood-colored blade light fell like it had descended from the nine heavens, perfectly obscuring the curved moon, as if a blood-red moon had dropped from the sky, tearing through the firmament.

In the darkness, Zhao Changhe’s face was unclear, but a pair of blood-red eyes could be seen hovering above, like a god or a demon.

Blood Fiend Sweeps the Sky, Gods and Buddhas Scatter!

This was not a blade technique for the third level of the Mystic Barrier… The third level only allowed one to barely use it once.

This was at least a supreme art for daily use at the fifth or sixth level of the Mystic Barrier, one of the Blood God Sect’s most famous blade techniques. In Zhao Changhe’s hands, it revealed its terrifying fangs for the first time.

Yue Hongling had seen this strike before, used by Sect Leader Xue. If fully driven by the Blood Fiend Technique, the “fear” effect Zhao Changhe guessed was real. Opponents with weak wills could truly have their hearts shattered by this blow.

But whether because she was weakened by her injury or because the atmosphere was just right, Yue Hongling felt that even when facing Xue Canghai, she hadn’t seen such an imposing aura as Zhao Changhe’s, like the Blood God holding a new moon, angrily cleaving the cosmos.

Was he truly born a bandit? This demonic technique suited him so perfectly.

The thought flashed through her mind as Yue Hongling’s long sword already touched the edge of the blood moon.

A brilliant rosy glow illuminated the sky; the setting sun and blood moon coexisted in the heavens, then both faded into silence.

“Bang!” Zhao Changhe was sent flying several zhang, crashing heavily into the courtyard wall, coughing painfully.

Looking up, Yue Hongling was also leaning on her sword with some difficulty, a trace of blood seeping from her lower abdomen—the wound had been strained and reopened. She looked at Zhao Changhe coughing by the wall, and genuine admiration appeared in her eyes. Who could have predicted such an outcome?

Originally, her injury was nothing. She had been playing with him like an adult with a child, a casual sword strike that shouldn’t have required abdominal effort, let alone straining the wound. But Zhao Changhe’s strike was far stronger than expected, forcing her to unconsciously engage her abdominal muscles, naturally pulling the wound.

She had brought it on herself. She had come to heal and rest, only to tear her own wound open again.

Well, it wasn’t his blow that did it, so she didn’t have to be called “Yue’er”… The Book of Chaos probably wouldn’t flash either, or else Zhao Changhe’s strike would have made him famous.

On the other side, Zhao Changhe struggled to stand up and suddenly laughed. “Wonderful, wonderful! You were right… This kind of fight is interesting. When you’re healed, let’s do it again!”