Spring ended, and autumn arrived.
In the blink of an eye, winter descended once more, covering Cloudhill City with a thick layer of snow. Meanwhile, the unique climate of Eight-Sided Cloudhill meant that the temperature on the mountain dipped slightly, but remained pleasant overall.
The Verge, a unique cliff on Cloudhill, extended like the formidable edge of a massive blade, spanning nearly a hundred meters in length and a mere three feet in width. Below it lay the Hundred Zhang Cliff.
A young man in black robes sat cross-legged at the edge of the cliff. His robes whipped about in the howling wind, yet he remained steady.
His face, appearing no older than eighteen or nineteen, was as sharp as a saber. Years of cultivation allowed him to control his aura, and he bore an air of maturity and stability that belied his age. It was Wu Yuan!
After cultivating in solitude for over ten days, I have finally grasped the intricacies of this cliff and gained complete control. Wu Yuan slowly opened his eyes. After residing on this mountain for a year and a half, my Environmental Mastery training has finally borne fruit.
Wu Yuan ascended Cloudhill in the Eastern Martial year of 3224, in the month of September. Now, it was February of the Eastern Martial year of 3226. Exactly a year and a half.
Throughout this period, he had only descended the mountain once, during the previous winter after the annual competition. He had spent the end of the year in Cloudhill City at the Wu Mansion, where he reunited with his mother and sister.
In the Middle Land, New Years was celebrated in mid-February.
New Years is approaching.
This year’s junior academy annual competition recently concluded, and Wu Yuan retained his title as the champion. For two consecutive years, he was the reigning champion of the Cloud Martial Hall’s junior academy annual competition.
Last year’s October issue of the Jiang Continent Genius Rankings still listed him in first place.
“Wu Yuan.” A woman in purple robes called out from the opposite end of the Verge, her voice cutting through the deafening howl of the wind.
“Instructor Zhao.” Wu Yuan rose and leaped into the air, a single bound carrying him over tens of meters. He then quickly returned to the main cliff. What appeared to be a precarious cliff to a normal person seemed like a flat surface under his feet.
“Instructor Zhao, what brings you here?” Wu Yuan asked with a smile.
The visitor was none other than Zhao Baifan, the instructor who guided Wu Yuan when he first arrived at the mountain. Of course, she seemed more like a ‘life coach’ now.
“Wu Yuan, your training methods are always so unique. You have been staying on the Verge for over ten days now,” Zhao Baifan couldn’t help but comment.
“Mm,” Wu Yuan nodded, “Overlooking the world from up here provides a unique perspective. Is Instructor Zhao here to spar with me again?”
“I wouldn’t dare, you’re a little monster,” Zhao Baifan shook her head, “Half a year ago, I could still hold my own against you with equal strength. But now? I’ll lose for sure.” She had no inkling of the way Wu Yuan cultivated. His progress defied all comprehension.
Wu Yuan just smiled, offering no explanation. After all, could he admit that his martial skills were already on par with that of a Grandmaster?
But due to Wu Yuan’s shocking rate of progress, the higher-ups of the Cloudstride Sect had never intervened with his training, accommodating nearly all of his requests. This greatly pleased Wu Yuan.
Over time, as he interacted with the various instructors, protectorates, and elders of the sect, his sense of belonging to the Cloudstride Sect grew stronger than ever since his arrival.
“Instructor Zhao, you must have sought me out for a reason, please speak your mind,” Wu Yuan said.
“Of course,” Zhao Baifan replied. “It’s about Sect Elder Mo. He will be leaving the mountain tomorrow and hopes you can go bid him farewell.”
“Instructor Mo?” Wu Yuan gave a slight nod, “All right, let’s go.”
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Sect Elder Mo’s residence was a super mansion built right in the heart of Cloudhill.
In no time, Wu Yuan and Zhao Baifan arrived at the meticulously arranged courtyard house.
“Instructor Mo.” Wu Yuan gave a respectful bow.
Although the teachings Mo Jingchen imparted over the past year or so were of little help, the battle experiences he accumulated over a lifetime proved to be a wellspring of inspiration for Wu Yuan.
And since half a year ago, Mo Jingchen had begun to tutor Wu Yuan every three to five days. Disregarding how much Wu Yuan actually took away from his lessons, Mo Jingchen had truly taught him wholeheartedly. Their temperaments also meshed well.
“Please, sit.” Mo Jingchen faintly smiled, looking older than he had a year ago.
They all took their seats.
“Wu Yuan, I have submitted my resignation to the sect and will be retiring to my hometown.” Mo Jingchen said slowly, “I’m nearing a hundred years old, and once I descend from the mountain, I won’t be returning. Therefore, I hoped to see you one last time.”
Wu Yuan listened.
“You are the most gifted disciple I have ever instructed,” Mo Jingchen said. “In just a little over a year, you have already grasped the concept of Rigid Yet Supple. The only thing you lack compared to me is experience, but I believe you will catch up to me within three to five years.”
“Your progress is nearly unbelievable.” Mo Jingchen sighed. “The annals once said that the Martial King was first listed on the Heavenly Rankings at 30 years old. I used to consider it nothing more than an exaggeration from historians. But after witnessing your growth, I have no choice but to admit that true prodigies exist in this world.”
“I owe it all to your guidance, Instructor Mo,” Wu Yuan humbly responded.
“Stop flattering me,” Mo Jingchen chuckled. “I did not summon you here merely to exchange pleasantries. As your martial skill instructor, I wish to present you with a gift before I depart.”
As Mo Jingchen spoke, he offered a book to Wu Yuan.
Wu Yuan accepted the book, his eyes quickly scanning the title engraved on the cover, ‘Secret Art: Hundred Waves’.
“This?” Wu Yuan showed a puzzled expression.
“You have read many secret technique manuals, and I have taught you several saber secret techniques,” Mo Jingchen said. “But ordinary secret techniques only involve the saber itself. When you touch upon the Rigid Yet Supple stage, it means you are about to set forth on your own unique path.”
“Though your physical constitution is still weak, your martial skill level is high enough to practice a secret art.”
“Secret art?” Wu Yuan had a ‘curious’ look.
“Wu Yuan, a secret art is in fact a special kind of secret technique.” Zhao Baifan explained from the side, “Typically, it involves a Grandmaster expert utilizing a special inner force to unleash a rapid burst of strength…”
Zhao Baifan’s explanation allowed Wu Yuan to understand the term swiftly. The so-called secret art was similar to his self-created secret techniques such as ‘Thousand Mountains’ and ‘Ghostwalk’.
“This secret art was specifically created for me by The Rain Hierarch in exchange for a million contribution points. It is tailored to my physical attributes. Today, I will be passing it on to you,” Mo Jingchen said. “It may not suit you perfectly, but you may be able to gain some inspiration by referring to it.”
“I understand. Thank you, Instructor Mo.” Wu Yuan replied gratefully.
“But remember, do not use the secret art unless it is a matter of life and death,” Mo Jingchen cautioned, his tone serious. “When you reach the Grandmaster level in the future, you should be capable of creating your own secret art.”
“Of course, once you reach the Grandmaster level, you might even obtain a forbidden art. At that point, a secret art would pale in comparison,” Mo Jingchen added.
“Forbidden art?” Wu Yuan asked curiously.
“I have only heard about it, but there’s no harm in sharing. Secret arts are created by Land Rankers and their powers are still confined to the realm of mortals,” Mo Jingchen smiled. “Above secret arts lie forbidden arts, also known as divine arts or immortal arts. These are crafted by Heavenly Rankers and passed on to powerhouses in the mortal world.”
Divine arts, immortal arts, crafted by Heavenly Rankers? Wu Yuan’s eyes gleamed with excitement. A whole new world was unfurling before him.
“Forbidden arts are said to be immensely terrifying, capable of multiplying the user’s power. But those who surpass the nine grades of the martial artists are transcendents, fundamentally different from us ordinary beings,” Mo Jingchen explained.
“Therefore, for a martial artist to perform such a technique, the cost is severe. The least harmful outcome would be serious injury, but it could easily lead to disability or even death. Therefore, it is known as a forbidden art!”
Mo Jingchen sighed, “Generally speaking, only a Land Ranker can safely perform it.”
Wu Yuan nodded, silently absorbing this newfound knowledge.
“Alright, let’s leave it at that,” Mo Jingchen smiled, “Wu Yuan, this old man’s remaining years are numbered. Before my final breath, I hope to hear news of you making it onto the Land Rankings. You have the potential.”
Having personally mentored Wu Yuan, he was convinced of the young man’s extraordinary talent.
…
Wu Yuan returned to his courtyard house in the Cloud Martial Hall and began to leaf through the ‘Secret Art: Hundred Waves’. Indeed, it was similar to the ‘Thousand Mountains’ technique he had been practicing, perhaps even more refined. There was much he could learn from it.
Grandmaster Yu should have reached a higher skill level than me in my previous life. Wu Yuan assessed.
Since he came to the Middle Land two years ago, Wu Yuan had cultivated tirelessly. Long periods of Visualizing the black pagoda had rapidly strengthened his soul, which was reflected in his cultivation. His rate of progress far exceeded that of his past life.
Setting aside the secret manual, Wu Yuan made his way to the middle of the training ground.
Time to practice my punches. Wu Yuan slowly practiced his fist techniques. Each movement was precise, his physical strength flowing like water.
He made no effort to suppress his own power. Within the confines of the martial chamber, afterimages danced and blurred into existence!
Despite the astounding display of speed and power, the air seemed to offer no resistance, leaving no trace of a sonic boom in its wake.
The first level of Environmental Mastery is Perception! The second level is Integration!
Wu Yuan’s eyes were clear.
Integrating with the wind, the air no longer hinders. Integrating with the water, the current no longer obstructs.
Without a trace, the same power erupts, unseen yet infinitely more perilous.
This was Wu Yuan’s greatest gain from his years of cultivation on Cloudhill.
Boom! As his final punch connected with the air, a muffled sonic boom resounded. Fortunately, the private courtyard house’s soundproofing kept it contained. Wu Yuan had also confirmed that no one was within a hundred meters of his location.
A single-arm punch with a force of 110,000 catties. A faint smile crept onto Wu Yuan’s face. I wonder where I would rank in the Human Rankings now.
It’s been half a year since I last assimilated the blood-red mist. I can’t help but wonder how much stronger I’ll become when it fuses with my body once more.
The time has come to descend the mountain and embark on a hunt.