"Right," Luo Zhen murmured to himself, the single word a quiet affirmation in the echoing silence of the Scripture Pavilion. The lingering energy of the offensive arts section seemed to cling to him as he turned away, a phantom hum of raw power. But pure offense was a glass cannon. The Primordial Chaos Punishment Astral Art was a peerless sword, but he was wielding it with no shield. That had to change.
He navigated the labyrinthine aisles of ancient scrolls and bound manuals, the air thick with the scent of aged parchment and latent spiritual energy. His destination was a small, almost forgotten corner of the vast library: the body-tempering section. Compared to the grand galleries of elemental arts and weapon techniques, it was comically small. A single, dusty-looking shelf stood against a stone wall, holding a pathetic handful of books. It was a testament to how few cultivators prioritized the arduous path of honing the physical self.
Luo Zhen's gaze swept over the titles, his fingers brushing against the worn spines. He picked them up one by one, absorbing their essence.
Blood Moon Shattered Jade Art: A King-Level, top-tier body-tempering art. The description promised a body that could become as brilliant and indestructible as a gemstone, capable of shrugging off blows from even high-grade magical artifacts.
Steel Bone Iron Body Art: Another King-Level, top-tier technique. Its promise was simpler, more brutal: cultivate it to its peak, and your body would become a fortress of flesh and bone, without a single weak point.
Withered Wood Rejuvenation Art: A third King-Level art that caught his eye. This one offered not just immense durability but also an accelerated healing factor, allowing the body to mend itself from grievous wounds.
There were eight manuals in total, all of them impressive King-Level, top-tier techniques that any other disciple would have killed for. Luo Zhen considered them, his mind a flurry of calculations. He could, in theory, take them all. His contribution points were more than sufficient, and with the System's aid, mastering them would be a matter of time and energy, not talent.
But rules were rules. A disciple could only check out five manuals from the Pavilion at one time. It was a frustrating, but necessary, limitation to prevent any single person from hoarding the sect's knowledge. He already had the Primordial Chaos Punishment Astral Art, which counted as one. He carefully selected the Blood Moon Shattered Jade Art and the Steel Bone Iron Body Art, their defensive properties seeming the most direct and potent. That brought his total to three. Two slots remaining.
Shaking his head to clear the tactical clutter, he left the lonely little section behind and moved toward his true destination, the one that made his pulse quicken with a thrum of genuine excitement. The saber techniques section.
This was a different world entirely. The air here was sharp, practically vibrating with the echoes of countless deadly strikes. Racks upon racks of scrolls and books stood in neat rows, a library dedicated to the art of the blade. The collection was neatly divided into two distinct areas: King-Level and, in a much smaller, more hallowed space, Emperor-Level.
Luo Zhen didn't even spare the King-Level techniques a glance. He walked directly to the roped-off Emperor-Level alcove. Here, the options were starkly limited. Only two lonely manuals rested on an ornate pedestal, seeming to absorb the light around them. He reached for them, a jolt of recognition hitting him as he read the titles.
"Moon Severance… and Hundred Shadow Frenzied Slash?" he whispered, a surprised smirk touching his lips.
These were the very techniques Hong Yue had wielded against him in their duel. He had defeated them, yes, but that wasn't a mark against the arts themselves. It was a testament to his own strength and, more importantly, a reflection of how poorly Hong Yue had mastered them. The man had only scratched the surface, wielding a cannon as if it were a child's toy. In the hands of a true master, Luo Zhen knew their power would be devastating.
He unfurled the scrolls, his eyes tracing the elegant, powerful script that detailed their nature.
Moon Severance: Emperor-Level, beginner-tier saber technique. Cultivation allows the user to condense their energy into a crescent moon of pure saber qi. The deeper the mastery, the more tangible and destructive the moon becomes. A peerless single-target execution art.
Hundred Shadow Frenzied Slash: Emperor-Level, beginner-tier saber technique. Unleashes a storm of phantom saber strikes, capable of manifesting up to one hundred overlapping shadows with a single swing. The ultimate area-of-effect saber art for annihilating groups of enemies.
A wide, satisfied grin spread across Luo Zhen's face. They were perfect. One for the duelist, one for the battlefield. "A single-target kill and a crowd-clearer," he mused aloud. "Couldn't have asked for a better combination. I'll take them."
With the two Emperor-Level saber manuals in his possession, his count reached the maximum of five. He cast a final, slightly wistful glance at the vast collection of King-Level techniques. With the System, he could have integrated dozens of them, forging their concepts into something new and powerful. But the limit was absolute.
"Next time," he promised himself, turning on his heel. "There will be a next time."
He walked back to the entrance of the Pavilion, approaching the wizened gatekeeping elder who sat hunched over a massive ledger. The old man seemed half-asleep, a permanent fixture of the ancient library.
"Finished choosing?" the elder grunted, barely cracking an eyelid.
"Yes, Elder. I'm finished," Luo Zhen replied, placing the five manuals on the desk.
The elder's job was to register every manual that left the Pavilion, even though they were only copies of the originals. His bony fingers began to list them, his voice a bored monotone until he actually processed what he was seeing.
"Blood Moon Shattered Jade Art and Steel Bone Iron Body Art… hmm. Both body-tempering arts. A bit redundant, don't you think? Moon Severance and Hundred Shadow Frenzied Slash… Emperor-Level? Why would you… Wait a minute. Is this… the Primordial Chaos Punishment Astral Art?!"
The elder's voice, once a listless drone, shot up into a sharp, incredulous squeak. He was fully awake now, his eyes wide and fixed on Luo Zhen as if he'd grown a second head.
Luo Zhen arched an eyebrow. "Is there a problem, Elder?"
"A problem? Kid, this is more than a problem, this is lunacy!" the elder snapped, actually rolling his eyes so far back they almost disappeared. "You're a real piece of work, you know that? I can forgive choosing two functionally identical body arts—maybe you have a strange hobby. But choosing two Emperor-Level saber techniques when you haven't even peeked at the King-Level? What's the point? Are you planning to use them as paperweights?"
Luo Zhen just rubbed his nose, a quiet smile playing on his lips. Before he could offer a defense, the elder zeroed in on the true source of his shock, his voice laced with a mixture of pity and morbid curiosity. "But all of that is nothing! You actually chose the Primordial Chaos Punishment Astral Art! You too?"
The phrasing caught Luo Zhen's attention instantly. "Too?" he repeated, his gaze sharpening. "Forgive me for asking, Elder, but does this mean other people have chosen this art before?"
"Are you kidding me?!" The elder let out a dry, rasping laugh that sounded like grinding stones. "Kid, that technique came down from the Spirit Realm itself. Its power is legendary, mythical even. Who hasn't wanted to cultivate it? Let me tell you something. Of the nearly one thousand members of our Bladedance Sect, I'd wager almost every single one of them has tried to master that damnable scroll. From the Sect Master himself, all the way down to the lowest menial disciple sweeping the courtyards. Every last one." He leaned forward, a grim twinkle in his ancient eyes. "This old man is no exception. Wasted a good few years of my youth chasing that particular dragon."
The casual confidence on Luo Zhen's face finally wavered. A cold knot formed in his stomach. He had believed he'd unearthed a hidden gem, a peerless art overlooked by the masses. Instead, he'd picked up the sect's most popular failure.
The elder saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes and pounced, his expression shifting to one of undisguised schadenfreude.
"Ah, I see it now," he cackled. "You thought your luck had finally turned, didn't you? Stumbled upon this legendary art and figured you were about to soar through the heavens and look down on all of creation." He leaned even closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let me guess… You thought you were the child of destiny? The protagonist of the story, blessed by fate and handed the keys to the kingdom?"
He leaned back, shaking his head with a pitying chuckle. "So young. You're all so hopelessly young."
Luo Zhen's jaw tightened. The elder's words hit uncomfortably close to home. That was, more or less, exactly what he had thought. He was different. He had the System. Of course, he could succeed where others failed. But to hear that everyone, even the menial staff, had tried and failed… it was a sobering blow.
Just as the seed of doubt began to sprout, a calm, serene voice echoed in the depths of his mind.
Host, do not be angered. With my assistance, you are the protagonist of destiny.
Luo Zhen pushed the System's voice to the back of his mind. He bowed his head respectfully to the gatekeeping elder. "Elder, if I may ask, what were the results when the other disciples attempted to cultivate this art?"
"The results?" The elder's mocking expression vanished, replaced by a shadow of something else—a deep, visceral fear. "The results were catastrophic!" he spat. "That 'art' is a godsdamned curse! It's a perversion! Anyone who tries to cultivate it generates an uncontrollable storm of Punishment Astral Saber Qi inside their own body. It doesn't empower you; it devours you. The qi erupts from your core and radiates outward, shredding your organs, corroding your flesh, turning you inside out until there's nothing left. We've lost over twenty promising disciples—all of them at the King Level or higher—to that malevolent scroll. They didn't just die; they were butchered from within."
The elder shuddered, pulling his robes tighter around himself as if warding off a chill. "We have a nickname for it within the sect," he added, his voice grim. "We call it the 'Suicide Grand Art.'"
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. Nearly a thousand of us have tried it over the years. And after witnessing the gruesome consequences, every single one who survived has abandoned it. You're a new face, aren't you, kid? Freshly joined."
"Yes, Elder," Luo Zhen confirmed. "I am."
"Heh. I knew it," the elder sighed, a weary resignation settling over him. "Every new generation of hot-blooded geniuses thinks they're the one. They all think they can use the Suicide Art to reach the sky. And all they get for their trouble is a broken body and an early grave. I'm telling you all this to save you the pain. That art is power, yes, but it's a tainted, demonic power. It's not worth the price. Take it back. Put it on the shelf and pick something else. Anything else?"
Luo Zhen listened to the entire horrifying description, his expression unreadable. But within him, a cold, unshakeable resolve was solidifying into diamond. The elder's warning had the exact opposite of its intended effect. The fact that nearly a thousand cultivators, including the Sect Master and the elders—the most powerful and talented people in the sect—had all craved this power and failed, only proved its ultimate value.
They had all failed. But they didn't have the Azure Jade Spirit Body, a technique that could heal him from the inside out. And more importantly, they didn't have the System. He was not like them.
With a quiet determination, Luo Zhen shook his head. "Thank you for your counsel, Elder, but I will keep it."
The elder stared at him for a long moment, then let out a resigned sigh. "I knew it. You stubborn young mules never listen until you've smashed your head against the wall. Fine. Go on. You'll give it up on your own soon enough, once you realize you're not made of the right stuff."
He waved a dismissive hand and turned back to his ledger. "Primordial Chaos Punishment Astral Saber Art, Hundred Shadow Frenzied Slash, Moon Severance… thirty thousand contribution points each. Blood Moon Shattered Jade Art, Steel Bone Iron Body Art… five thousand each. That comes to a total of one hundred thousand contribution points." He finally looked up, a skeptical glint in his eye. "You don't seriously have that much, do you?"
In response, Luo Zhen simply smiled and presented his identity token. Under the elder's utterly dumbfounded gaze, he paid the fee without a flicker of hesitation, gathered his five manuals, and walked out of the Scripture Pavilion.
It was only after Luo Zhen's figure had completely disappeared from view that the elder finally snapped out of his stupor. "A newcomer…" he stammered to the empty doorway. "How in the hells does a newcomer have that many points?!"
A few minutes later, Luo Zhen stood at the base of Sun Gathering Peak. The area was teeming with outer sect disciples, and as he approached, a wave of whispers and complicated stares followed him. This peak was the holy land of the outer sect, home to only three cave abodes, reserved for the three universally acknowledged strongest disciples. Hong Yue had once been the undisputed number three. Now, his place belonged to Luo Zhen.
Ignoring the cocktail of envy, awe, and resentment directed at him, Luo Zhen began his ascent. The moment he stepped onto the path, the change was palpable. The spiritual energy in the air was so thick it felt like walking through water—a rich, nourishing tide that washed over him, soothing his senses.
"Incredible," Luo Zhen breathed. "This place truly lives up to its name."
He extended his spiritual sense, easily locating the now-vacant residence of Hong Yue. With a push of his feet, he became a blur, arriving at the entrance moments later. Calling it a 'cave abode' was a gross misnomer. Before him stood a sprawling, magnificent complex of buildings. Over twenty grand structures, each opulently designed and shimmering with a faint, magical light, were arrayed around a massive central courtyard.
He pushed open the heavy gates. Inside was a personal paradise, complete with sculpted rockeries, a crystal-clear koi pond, meticulously tended gardens, and ancient, hundred-year-old trees.
"He certainly knew how to live," Luo Zhen remarked with a dry chuckle. He bypassed the main living quarters, finding a smaller, unused room off to the side, seeking simplicity and privacy.
He shut the heavy wooden door, the latch clicking shut with a sound of finality. The outside world melted away. It was time. He laid out the five manuals before him, his eyes landing on the one that represented the greatest risk and the greatest reward.
The Primordial Chaos Punishment Astral Art.
The System's promise from the library echoed in his mind: for a price, mastery could be his. He focused his intent on the scroll. Learn.
A sterile, digital voice instantly responded in his head. Are you willing to pay two million experience points to learn the first layer of the Primordial Chaos Punishment Astral Art?
"Yes," he thought, without a shred of hesitation.
Payment successful. Learning initiated. Warning: Due to the extreme grade and volatile power of the selected art, a temporal integration period is required for successful assimilation.
Progress: 5%… 7%… 11%…
"GAAAAAHHH!"
An inhuman roar was torn from Luo Zhen's throat. The pain was instantaneous, blinding, and absolute. The moment the learning process began, it felt as if his very cells had been set on fire. With every single percentage point of progress, the agony didn't just increase; it multiplied, doubling and redoubling in a geometric progression of torment.
It wasn't just pain. It was deconstruction. The terrifying Punishment Astral Saber Qi the elder had warned him about was being born within him, a maelstrom of razor-sharp energy erupting in his meridians and flooding his body. It was a storm of a thousand blades, slashing and cutting and tearing at his internal organs from the inside out.
A brilliant, dazzling green light burst forth from his skin as the Azure Jade Spirit Body kicked into overdrive, desperately trying to knit together the damage as quickly as it was being inflicted. It was a frantic, losing battle.
Progress: 21%… 23%… 25%…
"Nnnggghhh! Aaaargh!"
Even with his iron will, Luo Zhen couldn't suppress the guttural screams. This wasn't the clean pain of a wound; it was the horrifying sensation of being unmade, of your own body turning on itself. The saber qi grew more potent, more vicious with each passing second, and the damage it inflicted quickly began to outpace his body's ability to heal. The Azure Jade Spirit Body, his ultimate defense, was starting to fail.
Progress: 29%… 31%… 33%…
At the one-third mark, the internal destruction became external. His skin began to split open. A spiderweb of deep, bloody fissures raced across his entire body, from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. Hot, crimson blood didn't just seep out; it sprayed from the countless wounds, drenching him and the floor beneath him in seconds. He was becoming a gruesome monument of torn flesh and exposed muscle.
Host, you must stop! Cease assimilation immediately, or catastrophic life failure is imminent! The System's voice blared in his mind, cutting through the red haze of pain with a robotic urgency. Without waiting for his input, it acted. Forcibly halting the learning process.
The progress bar froze at 33%. The internal storm of blades didn't vanish, but it ceased to grow.
Host, your actions were reckless to the point of self-termination! The system chastised, its tone for once holding something akin to anger. If I had not intervened, you would already be deceased. An art of this magnitude must be approached with incremental caution!
"Cough… cough…" Luo Zhen tried to speak, to acknowledge the warning, but all that came out was a wet, choking sound as he spat out a bloody piece of a ruptured organ.
He lay on the floor, gasping for breath, his body a broken ruin. He was painted in his own blood, a horrifying tapestry of deep, jagged wounds covering every inch of his skin. The green light of the Azure Jade Spirit Body pulsed weakly, a flickering candle in a hurricane. The healing had begun, but it was agonizingly slow. At this rate, it would take weeks, if not a month, for him to fully recover. He had never, in all his time since acquiring the technique, been so grievously wounded.
But as he lay there, trembling in the wreckage of his own body, a strange and terrible feeling rose through the pain. It wasn't fear. It wasn't regret.
It was elation.
The Primordial Chaos Punishment Astral Art was everything he had hoped for and more. It was magnificent. It was terrifying. It was perfect.
The fact that it had nearly killed him—had torn apart his nigh-invincible body and overwhelmed his legendary healing—was not a warning sign. It was the ultimate proof of its power. If this is what it did to him, what would it do to his enemies?
"You're right, System," he rasped, a bloody grin spreading across his mangled face. "It has to be cultivated… little by little. Otherwise… I might actually get myself killed."