Late at night, the blood-red moonlight cast upon the river surface became the sole source of light between heaven and earth. The blood moon stained the long river crimson, making it look like a great sword, scarred from war, disdainfully discarded and lying chipped and still. The moon was solitary, and the river, always solitary, joined it in this scene, making this fragment of the world appear utterly desolate and bleak.
Beneath the moon, beside the river, a sprawling city stood in silent existence. Once perhaps prosperous and magnificent, it was now a desolate ruin, its form barely discernible.
A pavilion with red tiles and soaring phoenix eaves stood tall. Inside the pavilion, a small, gaunt figure sat in silent meditation. His entire body trembled with each breath. Dressed in a long black robe, his black hair was disheveled. He sat there, his black robe like the night itself, imbued with the blood moon's glow, making him seem as if layered with eerie fresh blood.
“Today, I will definitely break through Luyệt Cốt and enter the Trùng Huyết stage!” The youth took a deep breath, muttered to himself, then suddenly opened his eyes, revealing a sharp, cold gaze, pupils like ink.
The youth's right hand was wrapped in a layer of earthy brown burlap, exposing only his hand. His hand was swollen, his five fingers bruised and bloodied. The arm injury was from the previous day, self-inflicted.
He abused his body, enduring immense pain, all just to gather qi today, refine his bones, and enter Trùng Huyết.
“This Body Tempering Art is too unorthodox; an ordinary person would never endure it!” He sighed inwardly, swallowed the pain, and resolutely closed his eyes.
He mumbled an obscure ancient incantation, its gist being:
“Bones like diamond, skin like iron armor, sinews unbreakable, qi and blood a river, eyes transforming into sun and moon, soul like the stars... An immortal body.”
This incantation was also the first stage of the Body Tempering cultivation art the youth was practicing.
As soon as he finished speaking.
His entire body suddenly surged with a layer of silver light, which, after circling him, immediately sank into his flesh. One could visibly see his broken arm twitching, and the bones inside made a cracking sound as they slowly reconnected. The recovery speed was astonishing; an ordinary person could never achieve this, nor even a Qi Refining cultivator. Ancient people believed that injuries to sinews and bones were severe and extremely difficult to treat.
Skin wounds, or even minor qi and blood stagnation, could be treated by some physicians using medical energy combined with herbs in a short time. But injuries to sinews and bones required a very long period of treatment.
This cultivation method was somewhat miraculous.
In the night, the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, like myriad stars scattered across the mortal realm, was helping the youth reconnect his broken bones. After an unknown period, the swelling from his shoulder downwards had subsided, and his five fingers had returned to being slender and smooth white. Yet, this process was not over. The spiritual energy, like a stellar torrent, grew even more tempestuous, transforming into a vortex that roared down as the youth slowly raised his head.
This was both the miraculous and the cruel aspect of the Body Tempering path.
Gathering qi to reconnect bones, seizing a surge of excess spiritual energy to instantly refine the bones of the entire body, thereby breaking through Luyệt Cốt and entering Trùng Huyết.
And the Trùng Huyết stage was even more terrifying, involving the carving of flesh and accumulation of blood, forcing the body to continuously regenerate blood until the blood qi reached the required level of purity, which marked great completion.
After Trùng Huyết, there were also the Phục Cân stage and the Tẩy Tủy stage!
Each step increased in difficulty and presented myriad dangers.
As the night deepened, the blood moon had long receded, obscured by a layer of dark clouds. All around, the dark sky occasionally flashed with purple light. Then, the purple flashes became rapid, like lightning. Finally, a roar shook heaven and earth.
The ruined city, for countless years, steadfastly endured storms and lightning, like an old man of advanced age who remained unfazed and fearless in the face of life's hardships.
Fine rain drifted, scattering, and the sound of rain pounding on all things was the only sound at this moment.
The sky went dark, and the only tiny speck of light was the glow from the young man's body.
"Success!" the young man murmured tiredly.
Silver light coursed through his entire body; in that instant, his skin suddenly became translucent, revealing his entire skeleton, gleaming with a metallic sheen.
His body brimming with power, his arm no longer felt any pain. He lightly shook himself, and the cracking sound became even crisper. The young man suddenly sprang up, swinging his fist towards the dark sky ahead and throwing a punch.
The true might of this punch was unknown, but among the countless falling raindrops, one suddenly exploded, scattering in all directions.
The young man retracted his hand, and having assessed his new strength, he murmured with satisfaction.
"If I meet that Sun Luo again, I can definitely fight him, even kill him."
A killing intent flashed through his eyes, then quickly vanished without a trace, like the unpredictable path of lightning.
The rain stopped.
Countless specks of dust were washed away by the rain; the ruined city was a little cleaner, imbued with a bit more vitality.
From the tiled roofs of the collapsed buildings, rainwater poured down to the flat ground, flowing towards the low-lying pavilion, transforming into gushing waterfalls.
The young man had also left long ago, and in the east, the sun was rising.
A few miles from the ruined city was a place called Binh Doanh. Binh Doanh was backed by mountains, with mountain paths dispersing in all four directions. The founder of this Binh Doanh had a profound understanding of military strategy; such terrain made troop movement easy and defense even more convenient.
Thousands of canvas tents, like mushrooms after rain, were beginning to awaken as the sun cast its light upon them.
Some woke from sleep, others opened their eyes from cultivation. In the eyes of every person here, there was a heavy killing intent, as well as a restless panic, for they knew that the arrival of a new day also marked the beginning of slaughter.
This Binh Doanh belonged to the Cultivation World of Shangguo and was managed by a large sect called Luosha Sect. It was established to confront the monstrous Alien Race. Most of the soldiers were mortals, but there was also a portion of cultivators. These cultivators had low cultivation levels, all being at the Body Tempering and Bone Forging stage or below the fourth level of Qi Refining.
The mortals within, however, were extremely diverse. There were Shangguo soldiers who had been deployed, mercenaries from other nations, and no shortage of exiled criminals forced into military service.
Among the thirty thousand soldiers, someone died every hour, replaced by newcomers. They died not only because of the monstrous Alien Race, but also from internal strife, disease, and suicide.
Suicide was very common here. Mortal soldiers couldn't endure the oppression, couldn't endure the bloody stench of death. Weak as they were, if they went to the battlefield, their deaths would be unsightly: dismembered, wrapped in thin cloth, and buried three feet deep. Therefore, the small forest behind Binh Doanh presented an extremely chilling sight.
Thousands of corpses dangled from the trees. Some had just hanged themselves yesterday, their bodies still retaining color; others were shriveled, mummified remains; some were putrid, sagging flesh, exposed to wind and dew, gnawed by insects. In the distance was a stretch of bleached white bones. Each tree trunk was occupied by several bodies; the sheer number was truly astonishing.
The Binh Doanh's personnel were divided into three teams, known as the Three Guards.
The Blue Guard, the Blood Guard, and the Death Squad.
The young man belonged to the Death Squad, the unit that always led the charge in every battle.
His background was somewhat special. His father was the Grand Tutor of the Shang Imperial Court. Three years ago, he once remonstrated with the Emperor, which enraged the Emperor. His entire family was arrested and thrown into prison, a portion of his relatives were publicly executed, and he himself was forced into military service. In the eyes of many, including the Emperor, joining the Suicide Squad was synonymous with facing death.
Yet, in those three years, having endured countless battles, the young man still matured calmly.
As usual, early in the morning, there was a parade ceremony at the Military Camp.
A round of war drums echoed through heaven and earth, shaking the very sky. Inside the tents, soldiers, roused by the sound, swarmed out like ants before a thunderstorm.
A dense, dark mass, chaotic and disorderly.
The Suicide Squad stood before the entire army. The young man silently gazed at the distant sky. Such a sight had truly startled him on his first day in the Military Camp, but now it had become familiar.
He firmly held the military banner, planting it into the ground, his expression cold.
As soon as the nine drumbeats ceased, a streak of crimson light roared forth from the sky. Wherever it passed, it stirred up a storm, making the void seem to rumble with thunder. The crimson streak stopped above the Military Camp. The radiance dispersed, the storm subsided, revealing an armored figure.
Clad in golden armor, the tall, burly figure was a middle-aged man with a thick beard. He stood there majestically, like a divine being. His entire body radiated light, accompanied by waves of spiritual energy.
This figure was also extremely familiar to the young man. However, every time he looked into those eyes, he felt a sharp pain and dared not meet his gaze directly. The oppressive aura emanating from that person made it impossible for him to bear.
“Greetings, Camp Master!”
The myriad soldiers bowed their heads, speaking in unison, their voices, like a storm, sweeping towards the sky.
The Camp Master stood aloft, looking down coldly. He himself was awe-inspiring, his gaze indescribably stern. He paused for a moment, allowing the entire army to fall silent and stabilize their formation.
“Today, the three armies will enter the forbidden zone… Within half a month, we must reclaim Ma Yue Mountain!” A single command, like a divine decree, resonated with heaven and earth, echoing throughout the land.
“Reclaim Ma Yue Mountain! Wipe out the Alien Race!” The myriad soldiers responded, their momentum like surging waves, relentless and continuous.
“Only a Martial Emperor can stand in the void, but this person is definitely more than just a Martial Emperor… A Martial Venerable!” The young man whispered in awe. He had once met a Martial Emperor, the Emperor of the Shang Nation, who was decidedly not comparable to the Camp Master before him. And ever since he broke through to the Chong Xue stage, that feeling had deepened, becoming even more terrifying.
“He is not a cultivator of the Shang Nation; the Shang Nation has no Martial Venerables!” The young man murmured.
The tolling of bells and the urging of drums were the sonic commands for the army to march out.
The formation changed rapidly. Eight thousand Suicide Squad members formed the Absolute Sword Formation. A human-shaped sword, carrying earth-shattering killing intent, seemed to thrust towards Ma Yue Mountain.
The Blood Guards followed closely behind.
The Blue Guards escorted the military supplies.
Three Beast Carriages, pulled by three Dragon Horses, with the three Thousand-Man Commanders, led the entire army.
Ma Yue Mountain was only a few dozen li away. Stepping into it meant entering the forbidden zone, a place where the Alien Race’s main army was stationed. Inside, it not only housed the Alien Race but also contained countless dangers.
Miasma, swamps, monstrous beasts.
Dust filled the sky, killing intent permeated the heavens.
Swords and sabers gleamed, the army’s roar was like thunder. Their hurried footsteps shook Ma Yue Mountain, causing flying birds and strange beasts to feel uneasy and flee into hiding.
The young man, immersed among the myriad soldiers, tilted his head towards the Blue Guards behind him. From within them, there was an aura he could easily sense without even looking.
“Sun Luo…”
"Today is the day you die!" the young man whispered coldly, a glint of murderous intent flashing in his eyes.
He couldn't directly kill Tôn Lạc at the military camp, because even though the camp was chaotic and complex, it still had military law.
Mã Nhạc Sơn was the perfect place.
At this moment, above Tôn Lạc's head, there was a dense mass of black energy that outsiders couldn't see.
This was the "Hoành Nguyện Tất Sát".
One casts this vow upon an enemy one intends to kill, using one's own lifespan as the price. Like a forbidden spell, once cast, it can lock onto their whereabouts.
If the vow fails, one will suffer karmic backlash.
A life for a life.
Everyone in the Cultivation world knows of this technique, because it is too sinister and the cost is quite severe. Therefore, unless it's a life-or-death feud, very few people use it.
However, at this moment, a dark cloud also gathered above the young man's head.
"Tuyết Sinh... Today, you will die!"