Chapter 11: The Ancient Painting

Inside a five-star hotel, Yaoguang removed his coat and changed into the clothes the attendant had just bought. He stretched lightly, moved his muscles and bones, and confirmed he had not suffered any hidden injuries. As he recalled Lei Ao’s violent, desperate struggle before death, he could not help muttering, "Very strong."

That daemon had indeed been powerful, its physique likely close to human limits. Although it never had the chance to display its strength under his restraining technique and died with only two sword strikes, Yaoguang knew it had not represented the true peak of a daemon.

He, on the other hand, had already approached the peak of what a human body could reach.

Images from the host's memories flashed across his mind. It was a daemon draining the brains of several young boys, a bloody scene impossible to forget. After hunting daemons for a year, he had realized that consuming human brains increased a daemon’s intelligence, allowing faster evolution.

It was a relationship of hunter and prey, forever irreconcilable, and everything depended on one truth: who hunted whom.

Daemons infiltrated human society and preyed on humans, while Yaoguang hid within the shadows and hunted daemons. Who would ultimately prevail remained unknown, and all he could do was strengthen himself and solve the problem at its root by killing as many daemons as possible.

Daemons see humans as ants. Even with a sword pressed to their throat, they only feel humiliated and erupt with even greater murderous fury. To this day, I still do not know where they come from. Are they part of the natural world or...

Yaoguang pondered.

Scenes from science fiction and fantasy films flickered through his mind.

An alien invasion? The former would be better. After all, if humans and daemons have coexisted since ancient times, nature might have already found a balance. But if it's the latter...

Three daemons gathering in one place. That has never happened before. There should be more to uncover.

Lowering his head, Yaoguang looked at the sword in his hand.

A weapon is still necessary for absolute safety, yet this particular sword...

"Time to change it," said Yaoguang.

It was a short sword, not even eighty centimeters long, straight like a sharpened metal rod. Its structure suited concealment perfectly. With the Formless technique, the short sword hid along his arm like a magician’s trick and, nurtured constantly by his blood and qi, felt like a part of his body. Even advanced detectors could not sense it.

Unfortunately, cracks had already formed along the blade.

"To truly nurture a sword into becoming part of my body with the Formless technique, to the point where no instrument can detect it, would require time."

He murmured, "To avoid delaying sword nourishment, I need a proper sword. Otherwise, if a daemon manifests its fiendish body again, it will shatter this one."

The sword had been expensive, but far from a divine weapon. He had purchased it shortly after awakening the Formless technique, more to test its application than for actual combat.

Now, he could afford to choose a good sword.

As he recalled the entire process of nurturing this short sword, he almost felt like a cultivator forging a life-bound flying sword with life-bound essence blood. Of course, he had no life-bound essence blood, and the Formless technique was not a forging method.[1]

"Tomorrow, I will see if I can find a good one," Yaoguang muttered.

Setting the worn blade aside, Yaoguang focused and connected to the professional information search engine, the mysterious ancient tree.

He guided the growth nutrients obtained from hunting daemons into the Martial Artist branch. The branch immediately trembled, as though piercing deeper into a primal, chaotic void, absorbing every scrap of knowledge about internal organ tempering and pouring it into his mind.

By the time the infusion ended, the Martial Artist branch had reached its limit. His understanding no longer remained confined to third-tier grandmaster cultivation methods but now included information on how a grandmaster could challenge a martial paragon across tiers.

All third-tier information has reached completion. I could cultivate organ-strengthening to perfection with my eyes closed. If nothing unexpected happens, after killing another daemon, the ancient tree will condense the grandmaster's Dao Fruit and derive third-tier secret techniques. If I am lucky, the leftover nutrients may even push the Martial Artist branch from the third tier into the fourth. And once that happens, the information I gather will all be about the fourth tier, martial paragons.

Yaoguang thought to himself.

A martial paragon is only the fourth tier. Then what's the fifth? The sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, and even tenth? And the tenth tier might not even be the end. What if there were an eleventh, a twelfth, or even a thirteenth?

Achieving the realm of the human immortal, capable of riding the wind and living on mist and dew, was not an extravagant dream. The future remained full of possibilities.

"Besides..." He examined the mental world in his mind, sensing the ancient tree that had grown tall and vigorous, reaching nearly four meters in height. "Once the Martial Artist branch reaches the fourth tier, the ancient tree should grow a new branch. Then I can select another secondary profession and accumulate nutrients even faster."

***

The next morning, Zhang Ching arrived early at Yaoguang’s hotel with the same enthusiasm as before and immediately escorted him toward the weapon market. After discussing the matter with his father the night before, he had been given special funds for no other purpose than to properly accompany the Su family’s young master.

Unfortunately, Shanlong was still a small place. Yaoguang browsed the market from end to end, yet none of the short swords satisfied him.

Seeing his growing disappointment, Zhang Ching grew anxious and quickly contacted his father for help. Father Zhang, worthy of his reputation as a local kingpin, soon provided a clear answer.

"Young Master Su, firearms are not the only things our Dayu strictly regulates. Sabers and swords are also restricted, so our market is far less developed than Feiyu across the border. If you trust me, let’s head to Mingguang. My father knows a sword-forging workshop there, and the workshop owner is a true swordsmith whose craft has been passed down for centuries," said Zhang Ching.

"Let's go." Yaoguang agreed without hesitation. As a grandmaster, he no longer had reason to fear most worldly dangers.

"Alrighty." Zhang Ching quickly made the arrangements. Less than half an hour later, they arrived at the border checkpoint. Visas were hardly necessary, and personnel even opened a small gate specifically for the two of them to pass through.

Given Mingguang's economy, ten-story buildings were rare, and most structures were disorganized four- to six-story residential blocks built without planning.

The streets had cars, but bicycles and motorcycles dominated the roads, and the riders ignored traffic rules so wildly that roads could become jammed at any moment.

After nearly an hour of slow progress through the chaos, their car finally stopped before a courtyard on the outskirts of the city. The front area displayed mounted swords and weapons, while the back clearly served as a living space. The entire setup looked rustic and disorganized, almost like a family-run workshop.

"Where is Elder He? Boss Zhou sent me. A big client is here," Zhang Ching asked after seeing the receptionist.

Once the receptionist saw their clothing and realized they had come on a referral, he immediately led them into the inner courtyard.

Though this part of the property was a living area, numerous swords and sabers still lined the space, and their quality was noticeably superior. One glance told Yaoguang that all of those weapons surpassed his cracked short sword.

As he surveyed the surroundings, his attention shifted toward a large, carefully mounted ancient painting on the wall. The artwork depicted countless armored soldiers wielding long spears and surrounding a monstrous figure with a bull’s head, a human body, and three heads with six arms.

By comparison, the monster stood over thirty meters tall, its heads raised in a sky-shaking roar. Above the clouds, an impossibly massive sword pierced through the heavens, poised to descend.

Even the portion of the blade tip exposed from the clouds exerted suffocating pressure, leaving the true size of the sword beyond imagination.

"A painting of a heavenly sword suppressing a daemon?" Yaoguang murmured.

"This ancient illustration dates back over a thousand years. It is also one of the treasured heirlooms of our Heavenly Sword Workshop." A spirited elder who looked to be in his sixties walked out with a cheerful smile.

"Heavenly sword suppressing a daemon?" Yaoguang repeated, this time asking the elder. "Are there truly daemons in the world?"

"That was a thousand years ago. Who can say for certain? Believe it, and it exists. Doubt it, and it does not." The elder spoke with a sigh, though Yaoguang could tell at a glance that he was embellishing the tale.

He did not pursue the topic and said directly, "Show me your finest swords."

"Then you have certainly come to the right place. Our Heavenly Sword Workshop has inherited over eight hundred years of craft. Our sword-forging stands at its absolute peak. We have won multiple championships across various forging tournaments. Across Mingguang, and even throughout Feiyu, few can compare with us..." The old man launched into a stream of praise, every sentence filled with words like "peak," "strongest," and "unparalleled." Not a single concrete ranking was mentioned.

Luckily, Yaoguang was not looking for a legendary divine weapon.

The elder guided him through several rooms containing their collected masterpieces. The sword quality indeed matched their reputation, and it was no wonder the workshop had earned fame.

The only downside was that the prices were high.

Yaoguang eventually chose a short sword with a similar shape to his previous one, and the Heavenly Sword Workshop charged half a million for it. Zhang Ching tried to pay on his behalf, but Yaoguang refused.

Sword in hand, they left the workshop and headed back. They had only driven a short distance when a bus up ahead suddenly opened its window. A frail girl leapt out in panic and screamed for help.

Yaoguang looked toward her...

She looks familiar. She looks like one of the girls who shared the taxi ride with me to Shanlong two days ago.

Yaoguang thought.

1. Essence blood is a combined term for describing essence and blood. Essence blood is a vital component of a cultivator, and life-bound essence blood is used to refine some life-bound artifacts in other novels. ☜