Chapter Thirteen: The Six Meridian Divine Sword

Dragon Elephant Overlord Body Technique was an incomplete manual, containing only four levels of cultivation methods. Jiang Ming quickly read through it.

“Temper the body, comprehensively enhancing the toughness, strength, and power of the skin, flesh, muscles, bones, and internal organs.”

After committing it to memory, he set it aside for the moment.

There were also twenty-seven other techniques, mostly originating from the former Black Dragon Stronghold. Though most were ordinary, they still broadened Jiang Ming’s horizons.

They enriched his foundation and deepened his reserves.

Lying on his bed, he carefully reviewed and pondered over all the techniques he had studied, gaining a more direct understanding of the cultivation path in this world.

The next morning.

After practicing the Origin Returning Scripture, Jiang Ming drank a bowl of ginseng tea and began to try circulating the Dragon Elephant Overlord Body Technique. He immediately felt his flesh growing denser and his muscles and bones strengthening further.

Even his internal organs were slightly fortified.

Very soon, he succeeded in completing the first level.

“Is it because my physical body is already strong, so it happened in one go?”

Jiang Ming didn’t dwell on it.

His body was indeed powerful. Whether it was the Bone Tempering Realm or the transformative power from opening the Qi Sea and refining his muscles and bones, he far surpassed others physically.

He continued cultivating.

With his formidable mental control and the vast reserves of true qi nourishing him, he unconsciously entered a state of unity with heaven and earth during cultivation, absorbing the primordial energy of nature to strengthen his body. His cultivation speed reached an unimaginable pace.

Around noon.

“The third level is perfected!”

“My strength has almost doubled!”

“My skin is like leather, my flesh like taut ropes, my tendons as resilient as bowstrings, and my bones as hard as steel!”

Jiang Ming was truly astonished.

He pinched his arm; its toughness was remarkable, even stronger than a black bear’s hide, as if he were clad in a layer of soft armor.

He also gained an insight.

His previous foundation was now exhausted; further rapid progress would be difficult.

The following days, Jiang Ming devoted himself to cultivation, even attempting to create new techniques. He managed to draft a few, but they were far from reaching the level of top-tier martial arts.

Ultimately, he lacked sufficient experience.

One day, he arrived at the second peak, where three hundred robust young men selected for their prowess had been reorganized by Changqing and were now being trained.

Jiang Ming issued several orders upon his arrival. For example, these men would serve as full-time warriors, each receiving a minimum monthly salary of two hundred coins, with increases tied to their strength. Daily drills were mandatory, and before meals, they had to loudly swear loyalty to the stronghold and to the chief. Children of the warriors could attend school for free, and if a warrior died in battle, the stronghold would provide for his wife and children.

With material incentives and no worries about the future, some enthusiasm was indeed sparked. Furthermore, they were divided into ten squads and taught various techniques. Once a month, competitions would be held, with the victors’ pay increased by fifty percent the following month.

Jiang Ming also trained with them, running around the mountain and climbing with heavy loads.

Half a year later, in the back mountains.

Moonlight bathed the land, and the stars stretched across the sky.

“The world outside is vast. If you leave now, I fear…” Old Hu hesitated.

“We must go out and test ourselves eventually. As you said, the world out there is immense, but compared to it, this place is simply too small,” Jiang Ming replied, hands clasped behind his back, facing the mountain wind.

Only the two of them were present.

That morning, he had instructed Changqing to lead two hundred elite warriors deep into the mountains, to cross the range and traverse the thousands of miles along Dragonspine Mountain.

It was both a journey of cultivation and a trial, and also a quest for fortune.

In just half a year, the wealth they had accumulated was nearly exhausted.

Jiang Ming’s own growth had reached a limit; he was now preparing to venture into the world to pave the way for the future. At the same time, he left a hundred elites to guard the stronghold, a gesture of his lingering attachment.

“Will you come back?” Old Hu finally voiced his doubt.

He had always sensed that the chief felt detached from the stronghold. Coupled with his mysterious origins, he had long suspected the chief would leave.

He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon, leaving him feeling bewildered.

“Perhaps,” Jiang Ming said quietly. “I’ll leave this place to you. If I never return, let the stronghold become a true home, living peacefully. With the strength here, you’ll be safe. Of course, if all goes well, I’ll return, and so will Changqing and the others.”

Old Hu gave a wry smile.

At that moment, Jiang Ming’s gaze sharpened as he spotted a white figure rushing toward them, leaping atop the treetops as if flying. But as the man drew near, his breath turned ragged and he stumbled to the ground.

“We’re doomed!” came a helpless sigh.

Immediately after, another figure landed nearby.

“Lu the Runner, why have you stopped running?” This was a middle-aged man with a cold, intimidating expression that sent chills down one’s spine as he glanced at Jiang Ming and Old Hu.

“My name is Lu Yuan, not Lu the Runner! Damn it, why can’t you ever remember?” Lu Yuan swore angrily, seemingly indifferent to life or death.

He stood up, dusted himself off, grimacing, but still positioned himself in front of Jiang Ming and Old Hu.

“After I met you, you’ve never stopped running. What else should I call you but Lu the Runner?” The middle-aged man advanced slowly, his aura immense, making Old Hu’s breath catch and his face pale.

“Wait!” Lu Yuan raised a hand. “Our grudge has nothing to do with these two. What if you let them go?”

“You think I’ll let them leave?”

“Tan Feng, you’re a grandmaster, an elder of the Demon Sect…” Lu Yuan slapped himself, spitting blood. “Right, you’re an elder of the Demon Sect. The Demon Sect never lets a target slip, even by mistake, and here I am begging you. Damn it, I really am unlucky—just went to a brothel and stumbled into your mess. Hey, you two are unlucky too, dragged into this because of me. In a moment, I’ll fight him to the death. Do your best to escape. If you can’t, don’t blame me in the afterlife—I’ll probably be there before you.”

“No wonder you’re called Lu the Runner—loyal and righteous, even toward strangers, unwilling to implicate them. But unfortunately, none of you will leave here tonight!” Tan Feng suddenly struck, his palms a blur as true qi surged, blasting Lu Yuan away.

“Die!”

He flicked his fingers, sending two sword-like waves of true qi shooting at Jiang Ming and Old Hu—clearly intent on silencing them.

“Tan Feng, you disgrace the title of grandmaster!” Lu Yuan roared in fury, but was too late to intervene.

“Die?” Jiang Ming laughed, raising his hand. With a press, streams of sword qi shot from his index and little fingers, intercepting the attack in midair. “Who lives or dies is far from certain!”

At the same time, he grabbed Old Hu and hurled him far away.

“So strong!” Tan Feng frowned, surprised. “Such a young expert—what sect are you from?”

“Sword qi so condensed and sharp it could cut jade and gold. Could it be the Pure Yang Sect’s Pure Yang Sword Finger? No, that technique is grand and majestic, but lacks such piercing sharpness,” Lu Yuan remarked, coming over to Jiang Ming and staring in amazement. “Perhaps you’re from the True Martial Sect? But I’ve never heard of anyone like you.”

He paused, then laughed. “Seems my luck hasn’t run out yet. On the brink of death, I meet such a young master. Does this count as great fortune? Brother, how should I address you? Why don’t we team up to finish off this demon? Once we’re out of these mountains, I’ll buy you drinks for a month straight.”

“Brother Lu, I am Jiang Ming,” he replied with a cupped fist.

“Well met, Brother Jiang!” Lu Yuan returned the gesture.

Jiang Ming nodded, then charged at Tan Feng, saying, “The night is long and sleepless, and a grandmaster is at hand—what a fine opportunity to test my skills!”

He truly wished to fight.

In half a year, his cultivation had reached the perfected second stage of martial arts, and he had comprehended a trove of secret arts.

For instance, the finger-sword technique just now.

Jiang Ming had studied the martial arts of this world and, combined with memories from his previous life and extraordinary insight, deduced the legendary Six Meridian Divine Sword.

Although his cultivation was not yet at the grandmaster level, he had no fear.

This was a perfect opportunity to test his abilities and gauge his true strength.

“Courting death!” Tan Feng snorted coldly and charged forward to meet him.