Volume 2 Chapter 38: Challenge - Martial God

Chapter 38: Challenge The silvery sheen of the accumulated snow bathed the earth and sky in a dazzling brightness, making the entire forest resemble a bas-relief on alabaster. He Yiming stood silently on the snow-covered ground in the forest, reflecting on the seemingly superhuman destruction before him, a myriad of emotions swirling in his heart. Since he began cultivating internal energy, the most powerful strike he had ever executed was undoubtedly when he faced the Gold-crowned Python in the past. Back then, he unleashed all his potential and internal power in a single, stunning strike, capable of tapping into the full extent of his strength even while still in the acquired stages, delivering an unparalleled, awe-inspiring blow. However, since that day, he had never again been able to replicate such a powerful technique. Even after mastering his Five Elements arts, he still couldn’t manifest that particular form of strength. Each time, just when his power had accumulated to a significant extent, he found himself unable to release all of it in an instant. Unexpectedly, on the day he completed crafting his grand saber and successfully integrated the essence of his Mian Palm into his saber techniques in the snowy landscape, he inexplicably managed to perform another earth-shattering blow. At that moment, his meridians seemed capable of withstanding the powerful shock of that strike, and the cyclical potential of the Five Elements was fully harnessed. This strike, even more formidable than before, came with an important difference: He Yiming didn’t collapse due to exhaustion afterward. Although he felt an extreme fatigue and his inner energy was greatly depleted in an instant, he was soon replenished by an overwhelming surge of external energy, restoring his true qi. Of course, the influx was much slower compared to the depletion from such a strike. Currently, the true qi within him was sufficient for normal movement, but executing a similar strike again in the near future was impossible. Settling himself down, He Yiming sat beside the frightening twenty-meter-long straight line mark. With a furrowed brow, he recalled. The strike in his early days released all his internal energy without reservation, resulting in such overwhelming power capable of killing the Gold-crowned Python even while in the acquired stage. Though his current strike bore the same power, he was now in the innate stage. A technique’s power in both the innate and acquired stages shouldn’t be equivalent; something seemed off. It seemed a long road lay ahead if he wished to fully restore the former might, to unleash all his inner energy in an instant once more... ※※※※ In an instant, the withering wood power within him operated at maximum capacity, accelerating the influx of external world energy far beyond automatic absorption. After a full hour, He Yiming stood up, lightly tapping his toes, and the grand saber, weighing 360 pounds, flew into his hand. He then began to practice the fundamental moves of the "Thirty-Six Mountain-Cleaving Forms." This time, he wasn’t utilizing the techniques of the Mian Palm but rather focusing pure metal elemental Hunyuan energy to fully exploit this metal-element innate combat technique. The "Thirty-Six Mountain-Cleaving Forms" is a metal-element innate combat technique with straightforward and expansive moves, differing from ordinary techniques with its innovative energy pathways that maximize the internal energy’s potential. As He Yiming executed the opening move smoothly, a faint golden glow enveloped him. The grand saber slashed with a wind-ripping sound, its golden brilliance shining, reminiscent of a god descending to earth. Among these sixteen forms, besides moves like the direct downward slash akin to Mount Tai collapsing, there were sweeping moves like sweeping across thousands. Regardless of the move, formidable strength was essential for support. The more strength the wielder had, the more amplified the technique’s power became. A technique capable of amplifying every bit of strength to such an extent was undoubtedly among the most powerful of innate combat techniques. Half an hour later, He Yiming completed his practice, deeply satisfied with his skill proficiency. Surveying his surroundings, he noticed the forest had been left in disarray, particularly the thirty-meter stretch, where exposed, exploded black soil gave off a frightening impression. After a moment’s contemplation, he raised the grand saber, slicing through the stone bed resembling an odd furnace. With each strike, it broke into uneven pieces, scattering clear trails through the air to rest upon the black soil. Moving with the swift grace of a gale across the snowy ground, He Yiming gathered surrounding snow and soil along the path he had carved. In a short while, the path was tidied, no longer appearing as fearsome although still somewhat disheveled. Another snowfall would likely restore the area’s pristine cover, except for this path now devoid of grass, bizarrely visible. Yet in this forest’s deep recesses, a few short years would see flourishing flora enveloping all traces. Completing his tasks, He Yiming dismantled the grand saber, dusted himself off, and descended the mountain with nonchalance. The entire ordeal, including wood gathering, had cost him a full day and night, yet his excitement was beyond what mere appearances could reveal. However, upon his return to the Yuan family, he immediately sensed an atmosphere heavy with an utmost seriousness. This time, all the servants and attendants he encountered looked at him with eyes filled not only with fear but also with strong joy and anticipation. Confused, He Yiming pondered what had happened to make them react this way. Did they no longer see him as some reincarnated monster after just a day’s absence? Hurrying toward him was Yuan Lixuan, responsible for hosting them. This individual, constantly trailing behind He Yitian like a nervous wreck, had realized after witnessing He Yiming’s unimaginable prowess that the most formidable of the younger He clan was not He Yitian but what appeared to be an ordinary young man, He Yiming. Upon seeing He Yiming, his eyes lit up and he scrambled to greet him, exclaiming, “Brother He, you’re finally back.” He Yiming shivered slightly; the overly familiar term was somewhat unsettling. This person was noticeably older than him, and even his thick skin couldn’t quite bear this. Forcing a smile, He Yiming asked, “Brother Yuan, may I ask where my uncle and elder brother are?” Yuan Lixuan replied hastily, “Brother He, Uncle He and Brother He are in the main hall.” After a breath, he added, “The eldest son of the Fan family has come with two retinues to pay a visit. Uncle Chengzhi and the others are in the main hall with them.” A sharp glint flashed across He Yiming’s eyes. He hadn’t expected that while he was out training, these individuals would come knocking. Yuan Lixuan met He Yiming’s gaze, feeling a chill seep through his entire being, as if plunged into an ice cellar, to the point he began to shiver slightly even in place. He thought to himself, Just how far has this Brother He cultivated to possess such an intimidating presence, seemingly surpassing even Uncle He? “How long have they been here?” He Yiming asked in a low voice. “They just arrived, only the time it takes to drink a cup of tea,” Yuan Lixuan swiftly responded. Nodding slightly in acknowledgment, He Yiming strode towards the main hall. Although his time at the Yuan family wasn’t long, he hadn’t forgotten the way to the main hall. By entering through the main gate and walking straight ahead, reaching the main hall was inevitable, a logic that held true in most places. Yuan Lixuan trailed anxiously behind him, his heart tense. It seemed the Fan family could no longer hold back and intended to make a move, but he wondered whether the Yuan family could withstand this ordeal. When He Yiming entered the main hall, he found the atmosphere wasn’t as tense as he had anticipated but rather surprisingly amiable. But upon his entrance, all eyes in the main hall focused intently on him. Apart from Yuan Chengzhi and He Quanyi, there were three strangers. Of the three, one was a young man around twenty-seven or eight. The other two were middle-aged men with remarkably similar features. The young man was handsome, especially with his pair of long, ink-black eyebrows like the wings of a goose, slanted towards his temples, and a pair of eyes gleaming with alertness. His face appeared perpetually smiling, naturally endearing to others. As for the two middle-aged men, their faces bore a peculiar sallow hue, as though suffering from malnourishment. Yet the moment He Yiming’s gaze landed on those two, his brow furrowed slightly. He Yiming, having already stepped into the innate stage, could easily discern the true prowess of these martial artists. The young man could be overlooked; despite being a few years older than He Yitian, his internal energy was only at the seventh level. However, the two middle-aged men were another story altogether. Though not at the tenth level mastery, both had reached the ninth level, and from the frequency of their breathing, it was apparent they practiced the same martial art. Their subtle movements also revealed to He Yiming that in combat, these two could perfectly coordinate. With just a glance, He Yiming gleaned insights that most people would overlook—a testament to the daunting abilities of a practitioner at the innate stage. Such experts didn’t just see with their eyes but also perceived through the natural energy connecting them with the world, noticing minute details invisible to others. When Yuan Chengzhi spotted He Yiming, his eyes lit up. In his heart, He Yiming's status had risen to nearly equal that of He Quanyi. Naturally, having He Yiming present reassured him even more. "Yiming, dear nephew, come over here," Yuan Chengzhi cheerfully invited. "Let me introduce you. This is Fan Haori, the eldest son of the Fan family, a renowned rising star among the younger generation in our Zhengtong County." With elegant poise, Fan Haori smiled and replied, "Elder Yuan, you flatter me. How could my meager skills catch the attention of the two He brothers?" Yuan Chengzhi laughed heartily and continued, "Yiming, these two gentlemen are guests of the Fan manor, Mr. Xioa Yi Fan and Mr. Xioa Yi Lin." Upon Yuan Chengzhi's introduction, the pair remained leisurely seated, completely disregarding He Yiming. A flicker of anger crossed Yuan Chengzhi's face, but it quickly dissipated. He Yiming gave them a slight nod and was about to proceed to his uncle when he noticed He Yitian giving him a signal with his eyes. Following He Yitian's gaze, He Yiming saw that the Xioa brothers’ arrogant eyes were tinged with a hint of provocation. However, they weren’t aiming this at him, but at his uncle He Quanyi. He Yiming instantly understood: his elder brother was upset with these two, feeling he couldn’t match them, and thus hoped He Yiming would intervene and teach them a lesson. Nodding slightly, he paused, but He Quanyi furrowed his brows and said, "Yiming, sit by my side." With no choice, He Yiming shrugged slightly toward his elder brother and obediently sat next to his uncle. At that moment, the more than 300-pound grand saber was strapped to his back. Yet as he sat down, it seemed to weigh nothing. The chair beneath him didn't even tremble—a feat unnoticed by Fan Haori and his companions, but very much respected by Yuan Chengzhi and others who knew the weight of the saber. Even He Quanyi couldn't help but be impressed. To counterbalance the saber’s weight with internal energy was doable, but to make it seem weightless as He Yiming did was extremely challenging. The conversation continued briefly before Fan Haori suddenly shifted the topic, saying, "Elder Yuan, I've come this time as a representative for Elder Ze Wei." Yuan Chengzhi's smile faded instantly, and he replied calmly, "Elder Ze Wei? Nephew Fan might not be aware, but Elder Ze Wei has been expelled from the Yuan family clan by my father and no longer counts as one of our family. His actions henceforth have no association with us." Fan Haori’s expression remained unchanged, "Elder Yuan, you speak too harshly. Elder Ze Wei was originally the legitimate first son of the Yuan family. Although he didn’t become the family head, his bloodline is intimately connected with the Yuan family. How could you so casually remove him from the family?" Yuan Chengzhi snorted coldly, "Nephew Fan, this seems to be a matter within our Yuan family and unrelated to your honorable family." Still smiling, Fan Haori said, "Originally, it was unrelated to the Fan family, but as Elder Yuan knows, I married Elder Ze Wei's granddaughter." His eyes gleamed craftily. "As a grandson-in-law, how can I stand by and do nothing while seeing him wronged?" Yuan Chengzhi replied with a stern smile, one filled with icy firmness, "Then what does Nephew Fan intend to do?" Fan Haori maintained his smile, "Elder Ze Wei instructed me to convey that according to the legitimate first son's rights of inheritance, the Yuan family belongs to him. Therefore, he requests that Elder Yuan and Second Uncle Ze Yu vacate the ancestral house within ten days." His grin widened, "This way, both parties take a step back, preserving room for future encounters." Furious, Yuan Chengzhi laughed, "What if we refuse?" Fan Haori sighed, "If you refuse, it will complicate matters. Elder Ze Wei might have to come personally to reclaim what’s his." He Yiming’s mind stirred slightly. The Fan family had been quiet these days, but their presence now was overbearing with no regard for friendship or future reconciliation. Didn’t they know that his uncle was also a master of the tenth level of internal energy? Why did they act so assured, as though they had the Yuan family cornered? Before Yuan Chengzhi could respond, He Quanyi let out a long laugh, "What bold words you have, Young Master Fan. Since that’s the case, feel free to come and claim it." Yuan Chengzhi secretly sighed in relief and cast a grateful glance toward He Quanyi. Confronting Fan Haori, he could not rouse the same confidence as He Quanyi. After all, the Fan family had a formidable tenth-level internal energy master in their ranks. "Young Master, my brother and I have long suggested we simply reclaim what’s ours. Why squabble over it? If they refuse to let go, we can send them on their way," a chilling voice chimed in—it was Xioa Yi Fan, one of the guests. His tone lacked any deference despite addressing Fan Haori as young master. Yet Fan Haori only half-turned in his seat and smiled, "Uncle Xioa's counsel is wise; I will keep it in mind." He Quanyi’s expression darkened slightly; even with his composure, resentment boiled in his heart. Slowly standing, his gaze sharp as a blade's edge, He Quanyi spoke, "Young Master Fan, this is a matter of the Yuan family. Normally, neither you nor I should interfere. However, if you insist on pressing this, then I will not shy away. Just be cautious; some matters should not be meddled in. Otherwise, instead of reaping benefits, you might lose your foundation—all to your regret." Fan Haori’s face twitched; he could face Yuan Chengzhi boldly, but against a threat from a tenth-level internal energy master, he dared not dismiss it. The Xioa brothers exchanged a glance and, with tacit understanding, both stood and slightly bowed to He Quanyi, "Thank you for your guidance, Brother He." Before anyone could fully grasp the situation, they had stepped forward, crossing the space separating them from He Quanyi. Their four arms twisted into bizarre angles, seemingly without joints, resembling four steel whips, whistling through the air towards He Quanyi. He Yiming’s gaze sharpened. Their actions were absolutely unexpected to everyone present. Two ninth-level internal energy practitioners openly challenging a tenth-level master was beyond anyone’s comprehension. The gap between nine and ten, despite being one level, was as vast as the sky from the earth—not something that could be offset by an extra pair of hands. An inexplicable bizarreness filled everyone’s mind—were these two truly mad?