Chapter 43 – The Intent of the Sovereign
Deep in the mountains surrounding Suotuo City, away from the prying eyes of the Clear Sky Douluo, Lakan sat across from Zhu Zhuqing. The moonlight caught the silver patterns of his tattoos, making them look like living snakes of light.
"You have the speed, Zhuqing, but you lack the foundation," Lakan said, his voice a calm vibration. "The Spirit Master system of this continent is primitive. They believe soul power is just a pool of water you draw from. They are wrong. It is a Flow."
Lakan spent the next few hours teaching her the Meridian System—the invisible rivers of energy that connect the soul to the flesh. He taught her the Mind-Anchor Mantra, but added the Spiritual Forge technique he gave the Spirit Hall elites, allowing her to condense her mental energy into a weapon.
"This," Lakan said, producing a pearl that shimmered with a pale, ethereal green light. "Is the Mutya of the Jade Narcissus. I refined it using the Narcissus Jade Flesh Bone as the core, fused with the essence of the Deep-Sea Winter Marrow."
As Zhu Zhuqing swallowed the Mutya, her body underwent a violent transformation. The herb didn't just strengthen her; it "re-coded" her. Her bones became as dense as jade, and her meridians widened until they were like grand highways for her soul power.
Her soul power erupted.
Rank 27... 28... 29... 30!
She hit the bottleneck with a thunderous crackle of black lightning. Her Hellcat martial soul manifested, but its fur was now a deep, void-black, and its eyes burned with a cold, violet flame. Lakan then gave her the Body-Strengthening Mutya, forcing her muscles to compact and refine until her physical strength was five times that of a normal Agility Master.
"Cultivate," Lakan commanded. "I have my own mountain to climb."
While Zhuqing stabilized her new power, Lakan moved to a clearing facing a massive granite cliff. For the past decade, Lakan had followed one rule: The Echoing Strike. He didn't practice a hundred forms. He practiced the Suntukan: Straight Lead.
One thousand. Two thousand. Five thousand.
Every day, the same punch. Over and over. He wasn't just hitting the air; he was trying to punch through the "Resistance" of reality itself.
What is Fist Intent?
In the world of high-level martial arts (and seen in the future with Huo Yuhao), Fist Intent (拳意 - Quán Yì) is the point where a warrior's spirit, soul power, and physical kinetic energy merge into a single, metaphysical force. It is no longer just a physical impact; it is an Imprint of Will.
If Lakan punches with Fist Intent, he isn't just breaking ribs—he is shattering the target's "Concept of Defense." Even if the enemy has a 100,000-year defense skill, the Fist Intent bypasses the skill to strike the essence behind it.
Lakan's knuckles bled, the skin tearing and healing a thousand times over until they were as hard as his Batong-Pilak bones. His shoulders screamed in agony, his muscles tearing at the microscopic level. He had to maintain the Eight-Cycle Breath perfectly for eighteen hours a day. One slip in concentration, and the back-pressure of his own x20 Overdrive would have shattered his arm.
He reached the ten-thousandth punch of the day. He stopped. The world went silent. He didn't use soul power. He didn't use a ring skill. He simply stepped forward and let out a relaxed, heavy strike.
POOM.
There was no explosion. Instead, a perfect, fist-shaped hole appeared on the other side of the three-meter-thick granite cliff. The stone hadn't shattered; the "Matter" in the way had simply been erased by the sheer Intent of the strike.
Lakan pulled back his hand, a thin trail of steam rising from his knuckles. He had done it. He had touched the Sovereign's Intent.
"We're done here," Lakan said as Zhu Zhuqing emerged from her meditation, her aura now sharp enough to cut the air. "It's time to get your Third Ring. But first... we have a performance to watch."
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They traveled to a busy intersection on the way to the Star Dou Forest, stopping at a large, well-lit inn. As they entered, Lakan pulled his cloak tight, masking his sun-eyes.
Across the room, a group of youngsters in green uniforms sat loudly at a table—the Shrek students. Near them, a group from Canghui Academy was already bristling at the Shrek group's arrogance.
Tang San sat in the center, his eyes calm but his heart already accepting the "provocation" logic of his school. Lakan watched from the corner, a smirk on his face.
"Watch closely, Zhuqing," Lakan whispered. "This is where the 'Monsters' show their true colors. And this is where you'll find your first target."