After a month in the Blood Asura Battalion, Xu Ming gradually adapted to its rigorous lifestyle.
Day after day, it was nothing but training.
Compared to the haphazard, self-directed practice Xu Ming used to do back in his courtyard, the Blood Asura Battalion’s training thods were far more systematic, grounded in what could be called “Martial Science.”
Instructor Wang ng might look like a brute, cursing every other sentence and casually dropping expletives, but in truth, he was incredibly ticulous.
As the instructor in charge of the 484th camp’s ten soldiers, Wang ng knew each individual’s physical condition and weaknesses like the back of his hand.
Beyond group martial arts drills, Wang ng designed personalized training plans for everyone, ensuring that by the end of each day, he squeezed out every last ounce of their strength. He pushed them past their limits, over and over again.
To be honest, this kind of training was pure torture—so grueling it felt worse than death at tis.
But every morning, when Xu Ming woke up, he could distinctly feel himself growing stronger, bit by bit.
In monts like that, it all seed worth it.
As for the food, at first, Xu Ming thought the Blood Asura Battalion ate ordinary als.
Later, he learned the truth.
The rice they ate was all irrigated with spiritual spring water. The at? It ca exclusively from magical beasts.
Specifically, a beast called the Red-Furred Pig, which was raised in all ten Blood Asura Battalion camps. Its flesh was particularly effective at replenishing a martial artist’s vital energy while also being filling.
Otherwise, considering the enormous appetites of martial artists, just think about how many regular pigs would need to be slaughtered, or how much rice would need to be cooked daily. It wasn’t just a matter of cost but of ti and logistics.
In addition, Wang ng would periodically assign specific dicinal herbs to each person based on their physical condition. So were for internal consumption to regulate their energy, while others were for external application to strengthen their muscles and bones.
By now, Xu Ming had a clearer understanding of why the Blood Asura Battalion, unlike the other two elite armies of Wu Kingdom—the Dragon-Leopard Cavalry and the Iron Tiger Army—always maintained a fixed number of fewer than 100,000 soldiers.
It was simple: they couldn’t afford to support more.
These carefully nurtured 100,000 warriors were devastatingly powerful, but the cost of maintaining them was astronomical.
Still, the Wu Kingdom wasn’t reluctant to use the Blood Asura Battalion just because each soldier was precious.
From what Xu Ming had learned, the Blood Asura Battalion had the highest mission execution rate among all forces.
Missions were frequent, and if you died, so be it. Soone else would take your place.
If you died, it simply ant you weren’t qualified enough.
In about a year, new recruits would face their first major evaluation.
Xu Ming had heard that the first camp started with 1,000 recruits, but only 500 would remain after the assessnt.
The other 500? They’d either transfer to ordinary military units, return ho to farm or do business, or take up work as bodyguards—whatever suited them.
—
“Today, I’m going to explain to you what it truly ans to be a martial artist,” Wang ng announced.
It was Xu Ming’s sixth month in the Blood Asura Battalion. By this ti, everyone’s vital energy had reached the peak of the rcury Stage.
Wang ng began his lesson.
“The realms of martial artists—well, you’ve probably heard about them before. But let repeat myself anyway. Martial artists have ten realms in total.
The Three Body-Refining Stages: Mud/Clay Embryo, Wooden Fetus, rcury.
The Three Qi-Refining Stages: Heroic Soul, Dominant Spirit, Martial Will/Courage.
The Three Spirit-Refining Stages: Golden Body, Far Wandering, Mountain Summit.
And the Tenth Realm: The Limit/Pinnacle Boundary.”
As Wang ng lectured, Xu Ming and the others balanced 1,000-pound bars of black iron on their shoulders, holding a deep horse stance.
Wang ng paced around them leisurely, continuing:
“The Three Body-Refining Stages correspond to the lower five realms of a Qi Cultivator.
For those so-called cultivators, if they haven’t reached the Cave Mansion Realm, they’re not considered Mountain People. At best, they’re wandering Daoists, nothing more.
The sa goes for us martial artists.”
Noticing soone’s stance slipping, Wang ng delivered a sharp kick to their backside before carrying on.
“The three body-refining stages are sothing anyone can reach!” Wang ng’s voice bood as he paced. “In fact, the average constable in Wu Kingdom is at the Wooden Fetus stage, and their captains are typically at the rcury stage.
“So don’t think you’re sothing special just because you’ve reached the rcury stage at your young age. Let tell you this: anyone who gets into the Blood Asura Battalion has reached the rcury stage by the age of fifteen at the latest!”
Wang ng’s tone grew sharper as he continued. “The real test lies in the three qi-refining stages: Heroic Soul, Dominant Spirit, and Martial Will. Countless martial artists spend their whole lives struggling, only to fall short of entering the Heroic Soul stage.
“Only by reaching Heroic Soul can you be said to have truly stepped into the path of martial arts.
“Forge a Heroic Soul, and your soul becos indestructible. Ordinary soul-based techniques will be useless against you.
“Achieve Dominant Spirit, and even demons, monsters, and ghosts will shrink back in fear. A single roar from you could scatter their very souls.
“Form a Martial Will, and with one step forward, the aura of your blood and qi will beco so overwhelming that even most cultivators will find their knees trembling before you!
“That’s what it ans to be a martial artist! At the qi-refining stages, each realm is the equivalent of three realms for an ordinary qi cultivator!”
Wang ng paused, seemingly searching for a way to explain it better. “Let give you an example.
“A typical Heroic Soul martial artist versus a typical Cave Mansion qi cultivator—most of the ti, the Heroic Soul wins.
“If you face a Sea Observation stage cultivator, it’s roughly a fifty-fifty chance.
“But against a Dragon Gate stage cultivator, at a distance of more than ten ters, you’re done for.
“However, if you can close that ten-ter gap, most Dragon Gate cultivators are in serious danger of dying.
“Of course, that applies to regular dao cultivators. Sword cultivators? They’re a different story. Even if you close the gap, they’ll still be a pain to deal with. But at least they won’t be as annoying as those spell-casting cultivators, always throwing techniques at you from a distance.”
Wang ng spat on the ground and carried on.
“That said, all of this is relative. Fights depend on countless factors: timing, terrain, the number and quality of your opponent’s treasures, the state of your weapon, and even your ntal state at the ti.
“Rember this! Every realm, every title, is just a human-made label for different stages of cultivation.
“There’s no such thing as ‘one realm higher ans invincible.’ It doesn’t work that way!
“No matter how much weaker your opponent’s realm is, don’t underestimate them. They might still slit your throat with a single strike.
“And no matter how much higher your opponent’s realm is, don’t fear them. You might still crush their skull with one punch!
“We martial artists must have unwavering faith in our fists. Once you throw a punch, don’t even think about retreating!
“Real power isn’t in the realm—it’s in surviving to the end. The last one standing is the true winner!
“Do you understand?”
“We understand!” the group responded weakly.
“You call that an answer? Did you eat lunch or not? I asked, do you understand?!”
“WE UNDERSTAND!”
“Good. That’s the spirit. Any questions? Speak now, because I’m only teaching this foundational lesson once,” Wang ng barked.
“I have a question!” Xiong Haizhi shouted.
Wang ng kicked him in the rear. “If you’ve got a question, just spit it out! Quit acting like so delicate maiden!”
“My father told that being a martial artist is a dead-end path! Why is that?” Xiong Haizhi yelled.
The group fell silent. This was the question on everyone’s mind. After all, no one wanted to dedicate their life to sothing dismissed as a dead-end.
“Why?” Wang ng let out a cold laugh. “Because martial artists have short lifespans. That’s why.”
He clasped his hands behind his back and continued.
“Use your pig brains for a second. People with spiritual roots go off to cultivate. Reaching the Cave Mansion stage gives them a lifespan of 500 years. For us martial artists, even at the pinnacle of the Limit stage, we only get 500 years.
“Isn’t that a dead end?
“If you want a long life, go be a cultivator.
“If you don’t have spiritual roots, then shut up and train like a proper martial artist!”
“So what if life is short? I’ve blasted the heads off countless Dragon Gate Realm Cultivators. They may have lifespans of a thousand years, but what does it matter if they end up dead at my hands?”
“Coach, how many warriors have reached the Pinnacle Boundary?” asked Li Han, the slick-haired man.
Wang ng replied, “As far as we know, there are 20 warriors at the Pinnacle Boundary. Two are from Wu Kingdom, one from each of the ten major dynasties, and the rest… I can’t quite rember where they’re from, but that’s the general number.”
“Coach, I’ve heard there’s a realm beyond the Pinnacle Boundary?” Xu Ming asked.
When Xu Ming posed the question, everyone glanced at him, and Wang ng chuckled. “You’ve got ambition, kid. Already thinking about realms above the Pinnacle Boundary, huh?”
As he spoke, Wang ng lifted his gaze, his eyes filled with a hint of yearning.
“The Pinnacle Boundary is divided into three levels: Perfect Body, Flourishing Qi, and Divine Fullness.
Currently, only five people have reached the third level, and one of them is from Wu Kingdom.
Warriors call this realm the Headless Road, because that’s where it ends.
But everyone who’s reached the third level of the Pinnacle Boundary has said they felt it wasn’t the end. There’s a path beyond—but no one has managed to walk it.
It’s like the lost realms of Qi Cultivation.
However, unlike Qi Cultivation, where the lost realms truly existed in ancient tis, no one has ever reached the realms beyond the Pinnacle Boundary.
So have nad the final realm beyond the Pinnacle Boundary: the Martial God Realm.
To beco a Martial God is to transform the body into a world of its own, standing equal to the Great Dao itself.”
When Wang ng finished speaking, Xu Ming and the others all turned their eyes toward Wu Yanhan.
Wu Yanhan frowned.
“I know what you’re all thinking.”
Wang ng waved dismissively.
“You’ve probably heard about Wu Yanhan’s Martial God Physique. Let explain: being born with a Martial God Physique doesn’t guarantee you’ll reach the Martial God Realm.
The Martial God Physique simply ans you have the highest potential to reach that realm.
Wu Yanhan, don’t think being a Martial God Physique makes you invincible in martial arts.
To date, 121 Martial God Physiques have been recorded in history. The weakest reached the Far Wanderer Realm, the eighth martial stage, and the strongest stopped at the third level of the Pinnacle Boundary—Divine Fullness.
Your physique gives you a head start, but others without a Martial God Physique can still reach your level—or surpass you. Focus on steady progress and solid cultivation. That’s what matters most.”
Listening to Wang ng’s words, Wu Yanhan shot a cold glance at Xu Ming, who had fought him to a draw, and said, “I understand.”
“Good, as long as you do.”
Wang ng picked up a water bottle from the ground and took a sip.
“I’ve heard the Rootless Secret Realm, which opens once every 500 years, will open again in four years. Qi cultivators below the Dragon Gate Realm, as well as Dragon Gate cultivators, can participate. Martial artists at the Heroic Soul Realm are also eligible.
Our Blood Asura Battalion gets three slots.
Work hard and see if you have what it takes to enter the Rootless Secret Realm. When the ti cos, you’ll et geniuses from all over, and you’ll understand the gap between yourselves and true geniuses.
But that’s not sothing you need to worry about yet.
What you should focus on is the assessnt in six months. Fail, and you’re out of the Blood Asura Battalion.
You brats better train harder if you don’t want to stay weak!”
Wang ng smacked the ground with a branch.
“Tie the black iron weights from your shoulders to your feet! Run ten miles for ! Whoever cos last—no lunch today!”
As soon as Wang ng gave the order, Xu Ming and the others quickly tied the black iron weights to their feet and started running.
“These damn brats,” Wang ng muttered.
Wang ng smiled, his eyes sharpening as his gaze fixed on Xu Ming, Wu Yanhan, and another boy.
“Will the Headless Road of martial arts finally be paved by one of you three?”
—
Tianxuan Sect, Wanhua Valley.
Wang Xuan passed through the narrow Tianya Line Pass and arrived at a sea of flowers.
At the heart of the floral expanse sat a young girl in a sky-blue Tianxuan Sect robe, her legs crossed as she floated mid-air.
Between her brows, faint traces of runes representing the evolution of the world’s Great Dao appeared and disappeared, resembling delicate flower markings adorning her forehead.
The girl, who had arrived here at the tender age of six, had now grown considerably. Her long hair cascaded down her back, just reaching her slender waist.
Gone was the childish innocence of a six-year-old. At ten, her features were refined and exquisite, and her figure, like a sprouting willow tree, hinted at budding maturity.
The Dao of Heaven and Earth gathered around her, blending her seamlessly into her surroundings.
But the next mont, ripples of disturbance spread from the girl’s body. The condensed Dao dissipated as quickly as it had ford.
Witnessing this, Wang Xuan shook his head and sighed softly before calling out in a gentle voice, “Qingwan.”
At the sound of her master’s voice, Qin Qingwan slowly opened her eyes.
It was hard to believe that at just ten years old, her peach blossom-shaped eyes already carried a charm that surpassed many grown won.
What kind of beauty would she beco as she continued to grow?
Qin Qingwan descended from the air, stepping gracefully toward Wang Xuan. A soft breeze carried the scent of flowers, setting the sea of blooms swaying with her every step.
“Master,” the young girl greeted with a bow as she stood before Wang Xuan.
“Qingwan, your heart is unsettled again,” Wang Xuan said, gazing at his disciple. “What is troubling you?”
“Master, the Blood Toras has opened for the second ti recently,” the girl replied, her eyes curving into a smile.
Wang Xuan, of course, was aware of the agreent between his disciple and that boy nad Xu Ming.
“Qingwan, our lineage practices the Supre Path of Forgetting Emotion. Harboring thoughts of him will hinder your cultivation.
In four years, the Rootless Secret Realm will open. There is sothing in it that the Tianxuan Sect needs you to retrieve.
But at your current level, you are not yet ready.”
Qin Qingwan blinked, her eyes shimring. “But Master, you’ve told before that everyone has their own Dao. Qingwan must walk her own path.”
Wang Xuan nodded. “That is true.”
Qin Qingwan continued, “Then why does Master want to forget my own Dao?”
Wang Xuan looked into his disciple’s eyes, confused. “What do you an by that?”
“Master wants to follow the Supre Path of Forgetting Emotion, but emotion itself is my brother Ming,” the girl said with a radiant smile, a smile so dazzling that the sea of flowers seed to bow their heads in submission.
“And Brother Ming is Qingwan’s Dao.”
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