Chapter 39: The Pinnacle of Blood-Moving, Blood Energy Manifesting as a Dragon, One Punch of One Hundred Thousand Catties!

Jiang Churan strode ahead, walking faster and faster. Li Wudao followed silently behind, not daring to utter a word for fear of crossing her.

Before long, they arrived at an open area within a courtyard. The surroundings were spacious and the scenery was pleasant, featuring rockeries, stone bridges, and a pond, creating a tranquil environment.

"The usual rules: swordplay only, no use of True Essence, and stop before causing actual harm." Jiang Churan stood still, flipped her hand to reveal a pale blue longsword, her expression somewhat indifferent.

"Understood." Li Wudao nodded, gripping his Longyuan Sword in his right hand. Given their strength, if they were to use True Essence, this courtyard would undoubtedly be left in ruins.

*Hum—*

Jiang Churan raised her sword, the blade emitting a soft ring. The next instant, the young woman transformed into a white blur, closing the distance in a few swift steps before thrusting her sword forward.

"So fast." Li Wudao was caught off guard. Though they had been a hundred paces apart, Jiang Churan had pressed in on him like a phantom in the span of a single breath. Such footwork surpassed even the Heaven-tier low-grade movement technique he had been practicing. He reacted quickly, raising his sword to deflect the strike.

This move from Jiang Churan was not aimed at a vital point, but rather at his abdomen—a gesture that carried a hint of testing and slight condescension.

"Xiao Jiang, why don't you dial up the intensity? I can handle it," Li Wudao said with a smile in his eyes.

"You asked for it. Don't go crying for mercy later," Jiang Churan retorted with a cold snort, twisting her blade and launching another assault.

The sound of clashing steel rang out. The young woman was like a sharp blade herself, radiating a bone-chilling coldness. Her white robes flowed like a painting, and every strike was precise and meticulous, without a single wasted movement. It was as if she had been practicing for an eternity—simple, pure, and skilled to the point of being heart-wrenching.

Li Wudao did not fall behind. In an instant, he parried more than ten times with his Longyuan Sword, each strike perfectly dismantling Jiang Churan's offense.

"What sword technique is that?" Jiang Churan’s beautiful eyes flickered with surprise. She had studied the sword arts within the Xuantian Sect and had never seen this style; it was ethereal yet possessed a certain vastness. Most importantly, Li Wudao had inadvertently displayed a level of sword mastery that was far from that of a novice.

"The Seven Star Sword Technique," Li Wudao replied. He had to admit, the martial art provided by the system was quite effective. Although it was only a Earth-tier high-grade technique, he felt it was in no way inferior to typical Heaven-tier low-grade ones.

Jiang Churan murmured to herself, feeling somewhat skeptical. The name of the sword technique was unfamiliar, and she had no recollection of it; it certainly wasn't from the Scripture Pavilion. She stared at Li Wudao’s face, lost in thought. Either this technique came from the mysterious Peak Master Xia, or Li Wudao had encountered some stroke of fortune. Recalling the boy's physical prowess, she leaned toward the latter. It made sense; for Li Wudao to change so drastically, he must have experienced a significant encounter.

"Your swordplay is excellent. If you dedicate yourself to the path of the sword, with your comprehension, you might be able to grasp Sword Intent within three years," Jiang Churan said, her phoenix eyes shimmering with a strange light. She didn't press him further—after all, everyone had their secrets and trump cards. She was genuinely happy for Li Wudao's progress.

"Let's continue." At her soft command, the two began to fight once more.

The courtyard was soon filled with the shadows of swords. One hour later, the courtyard fell silent.

***

Jiang Churan’s breathing was steady, her watery eyes fixed on the slightly disheveled youth with a mix of complexity and shock. She realized that Li Wudao possessed such high attainment in swordsmanship that he barely needed her guidance; he grasped the fundamentals almost instantly. During their spar, she had increased the difficulty more than once, even grazing his robes several times. Yet, each time, Li Wudao would quickly discern the weakness and counter her, drawing inferences from the situation with ease.

Looking at the boy’s handsome face, Jiang Churan was overwhelmed with emotions. In her past life, this fellow had been nothing but a mere servant disciple, indistinguishable from the masses. Today, however, he seemed reborn—the transformation was so profound that even she, a reincarnated Empress, felt a sense of disbelief.

"You... what do you think a 'sword' is?" Jiang Churan asked abruptly after a moment of silence.

The question stumped Li Wudao. He scratched his head, furrowing his brows as he muttered, "A sword is just a sword. It’s a sharp tool, a weapon for killing—what else could it be?" He had only been practicing the sword for two months; his theoretical knowledge was as green as a novice's. He only knew that a sword was meant for killing.

"A sword is just a sword... a sharp tool... a weapon for killing..." Jiang Churan repeated the words, her eyes becoming increasingly clear, touched by the simplicity. Li Wudao’s answer was not profound—it was something anyone could say—but she heard something different in it. It was simple, pure, and direct, hinting at the concept that the greatest truths are often the most straightforward.

A few moments later, she stared directly at Li Wudao and said sternly, "I underestimated you. It seems your talent for the sword is even higher than I anticipated."

Li Wudao stood frozen, full of confusion. What had happened? He had only said a few words, so why was her reaction so intense?

"I take back what I said earlier. It won't take three years—you have the potential to grasp Sword Intent within a year, at the earliest." Jiang Churan’s eyes shone with brilliance. To grasp Sword Intent before the age of twenty-five was to be considered a sword genius, and becoming a Sword King would be a near certainty. Li Wudao was only sixteen, and the talent he displayed was enough to make even her take notice. Aside from her, no one in the Xuantian Sect could match him, and even across the Eastern Wilderness, few could stand as his equal.

"Grasp Sword Intent in a year..." Li Wudao blinked, feeling a strange sensation in his heart. If Jiang Churan knew he had already grasped Sword Intent—specifically, the Pure Yang Sword Intent—he wondered what she would think. After a moment of hesitation, he decided not to say anything. Seeing how serious Xiao Jiang was, he feared he might discourage her.

"You don't need to come tomorrow. The only thing you're lacking now is the gap in cultivation realm." As she sheathed her longsword, Jiang Churan’s tone softened significantly. "I forgot to mention last time: besides the Xuantian Sect, two other top-tier sects will also be sending disciples to that secret realm. It will be full of dangers, and if you are killed and robbed while inside, the sect will not intervene."

She looked deeply at Li Wudao. "Your strength is no less than that of a mid-stage True Essence realm cultivator, but to be safe, I hope you can break through to the True Essence realm before the Grand Tournament."

"I will do my best." Li Wudao nodded. Seeing her grave expression, he understood that the expedition to the secret realm would not be smooth sailing.

After a few more words of casual conversation, Li Wudao took his leave. He first visited the Internal Affairs Hall to purchase several sets of inner disciple robes. The one he was wearing had been ruined by Jiang Churan—torn into more than twenty strips, it looked utterly pathetic. If the fabric were dirt-colored, he would have looked like a beggar.

Li Wudao didn't remember how he walked out of the Internal Affairs Hall. He only knew that the looks he received from the other disciples were filled with strangeness and mockery; the pointing and whispering along the way made him wish for a hole to crawl into. He never expected to experience such social death in this manner.

Truth be told, Li Wudao felt quite frustrated. He had intended to crush Jiang Churan with his swordplay to gain a sense of achievement. Instead, he had no idea where the girl had learned her techniques; she was far more seasoned than him, her moves cunning and swift, without a single moment of hesitation. Within a hundred moves, his clothes had been shredded, leaving his scalp tingling. In short, when it came to pure swordplay, he had been soundly thrashed by Jiang Churan. However, he hadn't used the killing moves of the *Gengjin Sword Canon* or his Pure Yang Sword Intent; otherwise, he wouldn't have been in such a sorry state.

"Next time, I'll definitely give Xiao Jiang a run for her money!" Li Wudao clenched his fists and headed back to Misty Peak in a huff. He decided to go into seclusion to focus on breaking through to the True Essence realm before the tournament.

***

Time passed quickly. In the blink of an eye, a month had gone by. During this time, Li Wudao had not stepped off Misty Peak once, spending every day in cultivation. The threshold for the Pure Yang Saint Body to break through the Blood-Moving realm was absurdly high; he had consumed enough resources to support ten people in reaching the True Essence realm, yet he had struggled to cross even one minor boundary.

Li Wudao stepped out of his room, his mood a mix of complexity and joy. He had consumed two hundred bottles of Essence-Replenishing Pills, five hundred spirit stones, and various other elixirs, finally making the difficult breakthrough after a month. The benefits, however, were immense. He clearly felt that the blood and energy within his body had increased several times over; he was like a moving furnace, as scorching as a blazing sun, far more powerful than before. With a light clench of his fist, he could hear the faint sound of a storm—the sound of his own blood and energy surging.

Li Wudao arrived before a cliff that seemed to stretch on forever, intending to test his newfound strength. He threw a punch with all his might. Suddenly, a dragon-shaped phantom formed from condensed blood energy erupted from above his head, spiraling into the sky and reflecting against the midday sun before finally dissipating.

*Boom—*

A dull, thundering roar erupted, sharp enough to make one's eardrums ache. It was as if a giant had stomped on the earth; the ground shook violently, rocks tumbled, and dust filled the air as countless stones trembled uncontrollably. As for the cliff face that bore the brunt of the strike, it cracked instantly, with terrifying fissures spreading for hundreds of meters.

*Crack—*

The next moment, the thousand-meter-high cliff collapsed, resembling an avalanche. Debris flew through the air as the massive wall of rock fell backward, a truly shocking sight. Li Wudao stood in the center of the dust, as small as an ant, facing a disaster that looked like divine retribution, as if he could be crushed by the falling rubble at any moment. It was an eerie scene, yet the one who had caused it was a harmless-looking, handsome young man; the contrast was extreme. It was as if an ant had crushed a giant elephant—had one not seen it with their own eyes, it would be impossible to believe.

"With my current blood energy, a full-force punch must have reached at least one hundred thousand jin!" Li Wudao walked out of the dust, looking at the "ruins" in the distance with a mix of nostalgia and excitement. A month of bitter cultivation had far exceeded his expectations.

"I never imagined I would accidentally step into the legendary 'Ultimate Realm'!" Historical records stated that the limit for a martial artist in the Blood-Moving realm was ninety thousand jin. Anything beyond this extreme, surpassing the taboos, was known as the "Ultimate Realm." The power of the Ultimate Realm reached a different level—it was true invincibility among peers, with even more weight than the legendary invincibility of the Saint Body. But those who could reach this stage were few and far between. A Saint Body appeared once in hundreds of millions, known as the top physique on the continent. But an Ultimate Realm cultivator might not appear in tens of thousands of years. They walked the path of the invincible, and were peerless monsters rarely mentioned even in secret texts.

"Counting the time, the Newcomer Grand Tournament is in three days. I was looking forward to it, but now it suddenly feels meaningless." Li Wudao felt a sudden lack of interest. If he didn't control his strength, he feared he might turn those newcomers into mincemeat with a single punch.

The cliff in the distance was still collapsing. Li Wudao turned and walked away, a cold smile playing on his lips.

"Ruan Fei, Sun Qian—pray that you don't run into me. I promise I won't beat you to death."

Three months later, he was no longer the same person. The humiliations he had suffered would finally be repaid in full.