Book 3 Chapter 20: The Western Powerful Ones - Martial God

**Chapter 20: The Western Powerful Ones** The wind whipped past with great speed, but even while sprinting at such a pace, He Yi Ming moved with precision, showing no signs of panic. When he finally took hold of the massive Guan Dao, a profound confidence blossomed in his eyes, reaching new heights. The blade imbued him with this assurance—holding it seemed to make him fearless, turning any impossible task into a mere challenge. With a deft twist of his hands, the Guan Dao split into three segments. He inhaled deeply, clasped the last section, and channeled his formidable internal energy into it. With a flick of his wrist, this piece of steel flew like a meteor toward the back of the person sprinting away. A thunderous sonic boom echoed in the air. Charged with He's true energy, the rod shot forth at a speed akin to lightning, hitting the black-clad man’s back the instant it was thrown. The man, sensing danger, flicked his wrist and thrust a soft sword back, as if he had eyes on the back of his head, striking the end of the rod without error. This mighty rod, despite its formidable momentum, paused mid-air, as though the blow had neutralized all its force, then fell heavily to the ground. However, the fleeing man staggered under the impact, nearly falling. Struggling to regain his balance, he took one step when an overwhelming sense of dread surged again from behind. Proving his mettle as an innate master, he instinctively countered with another flawless sword strike, again intercepting the second rod flung his way. Fate was not so kind, though—for while he fended off the second attack, an even more intense sense of fear invaded him. Even when facing adversaries that displayed the elusive 'Flash of Lightning' ability, never had he experienced such terror. As this chilling fear reached its peak from behind him, a sudden tranquility descended on his heart. His well-trained instincts kicked in at this critical moment. His soft sword flashed a third time, striking backwards with blinding speed. “Clang...” A crisp sound resonated as the Guan Dao was flung high into the sky. Simultaneously, his soft sword, unable to withstand the massive impact any longer, shattered into two pieces. What terrified the black-clad man more was that He Yi Ming had already caught up to him during these mysterious projectile attacks. He used a burst of speed, closing in directly behind his opponent. His hands extended fluidly, forming a bizarre seal in midair, his palms flashed red like drums being beat twice. The recently restored energy condensed into a small red needle-like stream, swiftly crossing the distance between them, aiming for the enemy's back. The man sighed wearily, leaping into the air with a half-spin and struck outwards, scattering the sudden assault. Looking at He Yi Ming, confusion filled his eyes. How could this man still appear so refreshed and vigorous, as if just awoken from a long slumber, despite the prolonged chase? Even though innate masters could endure such exhaustive sprints, they would still experience fatigue. Not even the regenerative holy water could completely negate the toll on their energy reserves. In stark contrast, He Yi Ming seemed energetic and reinvigorated, arousing the man’s suspicion. Calmly dusting his hands, He had no intention of retrieving his Guan Dao after the opponent's sword broke, stepping boldly towards him instead. By now, He's spirit was sharply focused, his imposing presence tightly binding his opponent. Unless he could flee from He Yi Ming’s watchful aura, escape was impossible. Of course, if his agility technique doubled, He's acute senses would be futile. Yet, doubling one’s speed was almost an insurmountable feat for anyone. The man chuckled bitterly, suddenly speaking, “Honorable sir, perhaps there is a misunderstanding between us.” Though his tone remained formal, He Yi Ming clearly understood his intent. With a cold smile, He retorted, “Misunderstanding? Is the ambush on our Hengshan sect elder a misunderstanding?” He paused, recalling Elder Yu Xichen's words, his expression hardened with a hint of murder, “And stealing his innate inner core—is that your doing as well?” The man’s face flushed with intense anger, “No, it was our trio who vanquished the two innate beasts, but your sect’s elder lurked in the shadows, waiting for us to tire before stealing one. He is a despicable thief, not fit to be a righteous Holy Knight.” He Yi Ming paused, intrigued. Though both sides accused each other, his loyalty naturally lay with his own faction. About to unleash a mocking retort, he observed the man bow slightly, stating, “I am Romaia, hailing from distant western lands, unwilling to provoke enmity with your esteemed sect. If you cease the pursuit, I will duly compensate.” Surprised, He Yi Ming glanced westward, asking, “You came over the mountains?” Romaia nodded, “Indeed, our journey traversed the entire mountain range to reach here.” A flicker of admiration passed through He Yi Ming's eyes. The range stretching across the northwest corridor was vast and unknown in its expanse. Overcoming such obstacles seemed unimaginable. The sheer peril and length of the journey were not to be underestimated, daunting even for He Yi Ming. Romaia, noticing He's astonishment, retrieved a translucent emerald-green vial from his pouch. Inside was a white liquid, its purpose unknown to He Yi Ming. With grave sincerity, Romaia explained, “This is holy water from the Temple of Gods, enhancing one’s bodily strengths significantly and helping recover vitality after battles without side effects. If you agree to let bygones be bygones, I will gladly offer it to you.” He Yi Ming nearly laughed, “Ro... Romaia, is it? Your companions might have met their demise already. Will you still wish to reconcile after their deaths?” Romaia replied impassively, “Both were Holy Knights crafted by our omnipotent Lord. Returning to His embrace is their glory. How could I hold a grudge?” This left He Yi Ming utterly astounded—were these three even on the same side? Seeing He's bewilderment, Romaia calmly placed the green vial on a nearby rock, then stepped back cautiously, showing no hostility, mirrored by He Yi Ming’s restraint. Casting a glance at the vial, He Yi Ming’s intrigue piqued. If the alleged holy water exceeded the efficacy of stamina elixirs, its worth would be tremendous. He gestured forward, creating a suction that drew the vial into his palm. Yet, as soon as they made contact, his complexion changed dramatically. A fierce icy force flowed from the vial into him. This kind of cold, untouched by him before, was entirely unfathomable. The frigid chill surged through his hand instantly, penetrating his arm and entire body. Within an instant, a thin layer of frost blanketed He Yi Ming. Startled, he tried channeling his true energy, aiming to activate his innate Fire Arts, only to find the ice’s intensity far beyond his prediction, freezing him internally at the moment of contact. His true energy circulation had drastically slowed down, and the chilling sensation spread rapidly through him, seemingly impairing even his thoughts. A glint of sinister satisfaction flashed in Romaia's eyes. He suddenly opened his mouth, releasing a long-prepared incantation, “Jili Gulu...” As soon as he uttered these words, Romaia appeared utterly drained, as though he hadn’t rested for three days and nights. The vigor revived by the holy water vanished instantly. Still, without hesitation, he lunged forward like a leopard, his murderous intent almost tangible—evidence of his lethal resolve against He Yi Ming. He Yi Ming didn’t understand the words' meaning but felt an excruciating pain pierce his head, as if a thousand needles were stabbing into his skull, almost splitting it open. With the intense cold emanating from his hand and the piercing headache, He Yi Ming found himself immobilized, while Romaia's fierce assault loomed perilously close, leaving him seemingly resigned to his fate. Yet, just as despair sank into He's heart, a miraculous force surged from within his dantian. This force moved at lightning speed, spreading throughout his body in an instant. The frozen feeling in his hand vanished, and even the headache dissipated. His eyebrows lifted slightly as he discerned the change in his internal energy. While he still sensed the extremely cold power in his palm, it no longer froze him. This power had seamlessly integrated with his dantian, becoming part of his arsenal. It was akin to mastering the innate Fire Arts or Rippling Technique. Though lacking any mystical methods or peculiar energy paths, he instinctively felt he could wield this icy power at will. Moreover, his mind cleared, the earlier agony evaporated, though he regretted not gaining control over the strange attack affecting his mind. The newly awakened force merely dissolved the needles pricking it. Lifting his gaze, he saw Romaia’s hand magnifying before him, prepared to deliver a fatal blow. He Yi Ming's lips curled slightly. Though completely restored internally, his external appearance remained coated in frost. The slight twitch of his lips appeared eerily strange. Romaia hesitated. Could someone frozen by the eternal ice marrow still move? This thought flitted through his mind, then vanished when he saw the impossibly high-raised hand—the hand he believed was frozen—meeting his with a powerful clash. Suddenly, a cold shiver ran through Romaia, halting his movements instantly. From He Yi Ming’s palm, he felt an all-too-familiar chill—the power of the eternal ice marrow he’d encountered. The trio had discovered this mysterious, translucent bottle during their perilous passage through a mountain cave. Externally, it seemed ordinary. With gloves—even basic straw gloves—contact posed no issue. Yet, once touching bare skin, it emitted a fatal chill capable of freezing one to death. When they first encountered this eerie bottle, fortunately, all three were present. After one was affected, the others promptly intervened, barely saving him. Alone, death was certain. Identified post-survival, this was said to be the legendary eternal ice marrow, potent enough to freeze even innate masters. The jade-like bottle containing this marrow exceeded conventional expectations. What material could contain such intense cold for millennia, isolating its chill? This enigmatic treasure was Romaia's greatest find, overshadowing even the innate inner core. Cornered, Romaia banked everything on this bottle. He anticipated He Yi Ming, like their earlier selves, would remain oblivious to its hidden secret. Yet, unforeseen was Yi Ming’s immunity—rising unscathed from his freezing and sonic assault, redirecting the marrow's frigid power onto him. A flurry of thoughts overwhelmed Romaia. Despite struggling to move under the icy assault, his efforts were sluggish, like an octogenarian’s, lacking any threat. An odd clarity overtook Romaia’s mind, reminiscing his beginnings, mastery of skills, companionship with two friends on distant quests, leading to his present visage... His lips twitched, but words failed, and he succumbed to complete stillness. He Yi Ming shook slightly, dispersing the frost from his form, white steam rising as his innate Fire Arts dried his damp garments. Masterfully controlled, the Fire Arts maintained the perfect temperature, leaving his clothes dry, though somewhat wrinkled. Retracting his hand, He observed Romaia, now a mere ice statue, heightening his vigilance. Unclear what force he tapped, the energy surge transforming his true energy into this powerful ability amazed even him. Upon contact, the profound cold of his energy triggered an eruption, freezing Romaia entirely. Thus easily, an innate master fell. Gripping the small green bottle, He Yi Ming pondered profoundly. Romaia’s weapon of deceit had astonishingly sealed his fate through its very lethal chill.