Martial Cultivator

Since Chen Chao who was guarding outside the door of the thatched cottage could not sleep, he busied himself with something. First, he silently circulated the white mist within his body for several cycles, dispelling all of his exhaustion. Only then did Chen Chao begin to ponder over what he had gained from this trip up the mountain.

Although he was reforging his saber, just the journey up the Sword Qi Mountain was highly rewarding. Not to mention whether his cultivation realm had increased, just the perception of sword qi and sword intent this time was transformative. While he still could not match those pure sword cultivators, Chen Chao would not need to passively take a beating the next time he encountered them.

As for listening to the bamboo in the bamboo sea, it gave Chen Chao a deeper understanding of the worldly qi. Each bamboo in the bamboo sea had a different sound, similar to how each cultivator's qi was unique, even if they practiced the same technique. It was something unique to each cultivator. Now, Chen Chao could slowly unravel and perceive it. Although it might not seem like something extraordinary now, as his cultivation realm grew deeper in the future, Chen Chao could foresee how these gains would greatly benefit him.

Perhaps after arduous research, he might even break the notion that martial artists could not cultivate. Of course, Chen Chao was well aware that just because he had this ability did not mean all martial artists across the world did. At least, in other words, these abilities were probably largely due to the cultivation method he had been training in, which he still did not know the name of.

Thinking about this, Chen Chao felt a bit emotional. His past experiences could not be clearly described, but it was a case of blessing coming to him in the disguise of misfortune. Such was the nature of life, many things were unpredictable. What initially seemed like a bad situation turned out to be something he could not bring himself to resent after going through it.

Coming back to his senses, Chen Chao instinctively reached for the hilt of the saber at his waist, but his hand grasped empty air. He smiled wryly, stood up from the bamboo chair, and walked a few steps to the small creek. Watching the fish swimming in the clear water, Chen Chao suddenly had an idea. He used his qi to drop a stone into the water. The fish in the water were startled and began to scatter in all directions. Chen Chao became interested in the trajectories of the fish. Moments later, he threw another stone, causing a few more fish to scatter.

However, their paths were completely different from before.

Chen Chao fell into silence.

The fish scattered in response to the stone, but the timing, location, and whether the stone would fall at all were unknown. This meant that each time a stone fell, the direction in which the fish fled was random, with no discernible pattern.

The flow of qi within a cultivator's body followed a specific trajectory. Cultivating a particular daoist technique required the qi to move strictly according to its designated path. If the flow of qi deviated, the qi flow of the technique had to be restarted from the first node at best; at worst, it could lead to meridian havoc and insanity.

However, the flow of qi involved numerous critical nodes. If these nodes were discerned by an opponent, the cultivator would be at a constant disadvantage when facing the enemy. But what if the flow of qi within the body had no set pattern?

Chen Chao's eyes began to shine with excitement at this thought, but he quickly shook his head. The patterns of qi flow had been established through countless trials by predecessors over thousands of years. Every daoist technique was the result of extensive practice and experimentation by numerous people.

To make the qi within his body flow freely according to his will seemed almost like a fool's dream.

Chen Chao shook his head, quickly dismissing the idea. If such a feat could truly be accomplished, it would undoubtedly revolutionize the entire cultivation world.

Could something like this be accomplished by him, a mere martial artist, one at the Great Beyond Realm?

Chen Chao temporarily stopped thinking about this matter, but just as he was about to give up, he suddenly furrowed his brows. Making the flow of qi throughout his body irregular was indeed a challenging task, but what if he only developed a single saber move?

A move with an unpredictable trajectory.

Currently, Chen Chao possessed the lifelong knowledge of the Great General and the Dragon Rearing Head that he created. But overall, it was still too little.

Moreover, Dragon Rearing Head was not complete.

Thinking of this, he decided to act. The qi within his body continued to flow as he persistently dropped pebbles into the water. Each time a pebble fell, the fish in the stream scattered in different directions. Simultaneously, he imitated the trajectories of the fish within his body, letting his qi move accordingly. However, after just a moment, Chen Chao's complexion turned pale. The chaotic flow of qi, though seemingly minor, was not without risks.

Chen Chao exhaled a breath of turbid air and broke a branch from a nearby tree to use as a saber. As the qi within him flowed differently, the branch in his hand moved erratically, slashing aimlessly around him.

"There's potential!"

Chen Chao nodded in satisfaction. Although it was just a sudden idea, it seemed promising. While it might not be possible to create a saber technique with a different trajectory every time, he could at least develop several or even dozens of different trajectories.

Even with these limited variations, having a single saber move with so many changes would be enough to give his opponents a headache.

Chen Chao narrowed his eyes, already anticipating the surprise this move would bring when it was revealed at the most unexpected time.

It might even become one of his ultimate trump cards.

With this in mind, Chen Chao continued observing the fish and practicing his saber technique tirelessly. As time passed, the once calm stream became turbulent, with countless waves rising and scattering the fish in all directions as he practiced his saber.

Immersed in his practice, Chen Chao ignored everything else, entering a profound state.

This was the so-called sudden enlightenment that foreign cultivators sought. Many cultivators might not experience it even once in their lifetime. This state was elusive and mysterious, and those who entered it could sometimes advance two or three realms in a single day. Such occurrences were rare, especially for a martial artist.

Chen Chao's so-called enlightenment this time was destined not to break through his current realm, unlike those other instances of enlightenment. However, it would still be an extremely beneficial experience for him.

During this sudden enlightenment, Chen Chao practiced his saber technique day and night, unaware of how much time had passed. It was not until his internal qi was completely exhausted and he was utterly drained that he collapsed to the ground, sitting down heavily.

Panting heavily, Chen Chao laughed heartily. Looking at the stream he had thoroughly disturbed, he felt a great sense of accomplishment.

"I'll call it Swimming Fish."

Chen Chao felt very pleased with this new saber technique that he comprehended, so he casually gave it a name.

Chen Chao had always been casual about naming things and did not have other thoughts.

Of course, in terms of casual naming, it should be Xie Nandu who was even more casual. She could even name a flying sword Sweet Potato. Such a girl was a strange one.

"Come in, kid!"

Before Chen Chao could stand up, an abrupt shout came from behind him. It was the old man who was forging his saber.

Chen Chao struggled to his feet and weakly made his way toward the thatched hut.

As soon as he stepped inside, he was greeted by a sight that he would likely never forget.

A long saber, with its blade glowing red-hot, was embedded in the furnace. Snow-white threads seemed to dance across its surface, indicating its extraordinary nature.

The old man stood by the furnace, utterly exhausted and drenched in sweat. Seeing Chen Chao enter, the old man wasted no words and said directly, "Just one last step left, sharpening the edge."

Chen Chao took a few steps forward and asked, "How do I sharpen the edge?"

The old man gave him a knowing look.

Chen Chao said self-deprecatingly, "So it's going to be like that again?"

The old man sneered, "The choice is yours. I'm just telling you a principle - use your blood to sharpen the edge, and this saber will truly become a part of you. As for the benefits, you know it yourself."

Chen Chao smiled bitterly.

"Use your palm to wipe across the blade's edge. But be prepared, the heat of the blade far exceeds your imagination.'

The old man looked at the glowing red blade with some satisfaction. Although he was reforging a broken saber, it was no less difficult than forging a new one, perhaps even harder. But despite the challenges, he had succeeded. Though he was a swordsmith, he believed that only he alone could have accomplished this feat.

Even though a swordsmith reforging a broken saber might sound unseemly, if this young martial artist were to become someone truly remarkable one day, the old man would feel honored to have played a part.

For swordsmiths, the most important thing they cared about was who wielded their creations. Their greatest fear was seeing their masterpieces go to waste.

Chen Chao said nothing. He stepped up to the furnace. Before he could speak, the old man clapped his hands, and the saber shot out of the furnace, hovering before Chen Chao. He extended his left hand and grasped the blade. Immediately, his palm was torn open, and excruciating pain surged through him. Even someone like Chen Chao nearly lost control at that moment.

He gritted his teeth, his brows furrowed, and his face contorted with pain. This agony was far worse than any he had endured during his body tempering.

But at this point, Chen Chao had no intention of backing down. Instead, he grasped the blade and slowly wiped his bloodied palm along it. As his blood smeared over the blade, the glowing red color dissipated, gradually turning snow-white. As his hand reached the hilt, the entire blade became unusually bright, faintly radiating a cold light. The blade's surface bore delicate, nearly invisible white lines that kept swimming non-stop, like ripples in water.

"Grip the saber hilt."

The old man smiled.

Following the instruction, Chen Chao extended his hand to grasp the hilt. The once red-hot hilt had also turned snow-white, with golden threads weaving through it like tiny golden dragons.

The residual blood on the blade slowly seeped into the metal. The hilt then gradually turned black, though the golden threads remained.

Chen Chao gazed at the words "Cloud Mud" etched near the guard of the sword, lost in thought.

The old man smiled and slowly said, "When this blade sees blood, the hilt turns as white as snow. When it doesn't, the hilt is as dark as night."

Chen Chao murmured softly, "So, this is Cloud Mud."

Was everything in the world either black or white?

When the old man saw this scene, he said solemnly, "I didn't let you down."

Chen Chao sheathed the saber and said gratefully, "Thank you, Senior."

The old man suddenly sighed, "For some reason, I have a feeling that the flying sword I will forge next may not surpass this one."