Chapter 13: The Martial Genius from the Novel
(This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation)
Lin Ze gripped his Tang Blade tightly, stepping forward with a sharp upward slash, followed by a downward chop. The blade’s wind carried a fierce intensity. He seamlessly transitioned into a diagonal cut, a sudden thrust, and a spinning horizontal sweep.
Though it was merely the initial phase of his practice, his movements exuded a raw, primal force akin to a tiger descending the mountain.
As he executed the blade techniques, the True Qi within Lin Ze began circulating according to the Black Blade Movement Technique.
Before long, he sensed faint strands of a cool energy converging from all directions, seeping into his body through his pores. These strands followed the True Qi’s pathways, completing a cycle within his body before merging into the True Qi and vanishing.
“This must be what they call the energy of heaven and earth,” Lin Ze thought to himself.
During the cultivation process, Lin Ze noticed a subtle and mysterious change within his True Qi. However, the change was minute, barely discernible. He wasn’t surprised; he understood this was because he had just started practicing Black Blade and had not yet reached the entry-level. Once he mastered the technique, its true power would reveal itself.
As his True Qi circulated slowly within his body, a series of invisible acupoints began to manifest in Lin Ze’s internal vision. These were the acupoints — barriers on the path of martial evolution.
For a True Qi Stage Martial Artist, every acupoint unlocked represented a step forward on the evolutionary path.
After completing a single Heavenly Cycle, Lin Ze gathered his True Qi and began attacking the first acupoint on his right hand. The intangible acupoint resembled a reef, while his True Qi surged like relentless ocean waves, crashing against it with the intent to break through.
Within this miniature internal world, the two forces wrestled against one another. However, Lin Ze’s current amount of True Qi was insufficient and quickly depleted.
He restarted the Heavenly Cycle to recover his True Qi, and once it brimmed to capacity, he resumed attacking the acupoint. The process of attacking, recovering, and attacking again became an unbroken cycle. Gradually, Lin Ze became deeply immersed in the practice.
Throughout this repetitive process of depletion and recovery, his True Qi steadily grew stronger.
Eventually, an intense hunger from within interrupted Lin Ze’s training, snapping him back to reality. To his astonishment, the bright midday sun was shining outside. It was already noon.
He had been training continuously for six or seven hours!
Upon sensing the acupoint again, Lin Ze realized he was still far from breaking through.
“At this pace, it will take at least ten days for my True Qi to grow strong enough to unlock the first acupoint,” he calculated.
Although he had no frame of reference, Lin Ze was certain that his progress was exceptionally fast. His Dark Night Noble abilities gave him an insurmountable advantage in martial arts cultivation, enabling him to train at a speed unattainable for ordinary humans.
He didn’t require sleep or rest. As long as he had sufficient exotic beast materials to sustain his consumption, he could train ceaselessly. Any potential damage from overtraining could be quickly repaired by his self-healing abilities, though at the cost of more frozen blood plasma.
“As a Vampire, I am immortal. With infinite time for training, I will eventually unlock every acupoint,” Lin Ze thought with excitement.
Rejuvenated, Lin Ze quickly cooked some beast meat to satisfy his hunger before throwing himself back into his cultivation.
He was eager to master Black Blade as soon as possible.
…
Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, half a month had passed.
At noon, the sun blazed mercilessly. Zhuang Rui was drenched in sweat, his right forearm bearing a fresh, bleeding wound. Yet, he paid it no mind, his face brimming with an uncontrollable smile.
His companions were equally elated, occasionally glancing back at the blood-soaked corpse of the Blood-Eyed Wolf on their small pushcart.
Their excitement was understandable—this marked their first successful hunt of a monstrous beast.
In the past, encountering a Blood-Eyed Wolf would have meant fleeing for their lives, dreading even a moment’s delay that could cost them everything.
But now, they had slain one.
The sense of achievement was indescribable. From this moment onward, they possessed the strength to survive in this apocalyptic world.
“I used to think Blood-Eyed Wolves were terrifying, but it seems they’re not so bad after all,” one of them said.
“Look at you, acting smug. Anyone who didn’t know better would think you took it down by yourself,” another retorted.
“Hah! Just wait until I complete the second Heavenly Cycle of my cultivation in True Essence Art. A mere Blood-Eyed Wolf would be nothing to me alone,” boasted a third.
“Easier said than done. It took us half a month just to finish the first cycle. Who knows how long it’ll take to master two?”
“At least we have hope now,” someone chimed in.
The group chatted enthusiastically, their faces radiant with joy.
For months, they had survived in constant fear, haunted by the thought that any day could be their last, their lives ended by the fangs of a monstrous beast. The oppressive shadow of death had loomed over them for far too long.
Today was the first time they felt they held their destinies in their own hands.
Zhuang Rui took in his companions’ expressions, his own smile deepening.
“It’s all thanks to Brother Lin. If he hadn’t taught us True Essence Art and traded precious exotic beast meat with us, we wouldn’t have been able to hunt a monstrous beast so quickly,” he said.
At the mention of Lin Ze, a mix of awe and respect appeared on everyone’s faces.
After fighting a Blood-Eyed Wolf firsthand, they truly understood its strength. Consequently, their admiration for Lin Ze, who could kill one with a single punch, grew even deeper.
“How many Heavenly Cycles do you think Brother Lin has completed in True Essence Art?” someone asked.
“At least two,” another guessed.
“I’d say three. He can one-shot a Blood-Eyed Wolf, after all.”
“Incredible. It’s been only four months since the apocalypse began. How did Brother Lin train so fast?”
“Maybe he’s a Martial Arts Genius like the ones in novels?” someone suggested.
Zhuang Rui noticed Ge Ning’s hesitant expression out of the corner of his eye. “What is it?” he asked.
After a moment’s hesitation, Ge Ning replied, “A while back, I couldn’t sleep one night and went outside for some air. I saw Brother Lin coming back from outside carrying a monstrous beast corpse.”
Zhuang Rui froze, and the others exchanged puzzled glances.
“Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen Brother Lin go out in a while,” someone noted.
“Could he be hunting at night?” another speculated.
“No way. Nights belong to the monstrous beasts. That’s just making it harder for himself,” a third interjected.
“Maybe he’s trying to temper himself. Real martial artists have to undergo life-and-death combat to unlock their potential,” someone offered.
“…You’ve been reading too many novels,” another quipped.
Laughing and chatting, the group made their way through the courtyard and entered Building Unit 2, heading to Zhuang Rui’s house to divide the beast meat.
Their commotion attracted the attention of others, who came out to see what was happening. Shock and envy spread across their faces.
“Did you guys hunt that?” someone asked in disbelief.
“Amazing! You’ve reached the level where you can hunt monstrous beasts?” another exclaimed.
“That’s a big Blood-Eyed Wolf, easily a few hundred pounds,” someone else marveled.
“Zhuang Rui, you’re incredible. Can you teach me sometime?”
Faced with their flattery and inquiries, Zhuang Rui merely smiled without responding. He knew the truth. When he had initially refused to teach True Essence Art to everyone for free, countless people had badmouthed him behind his back. This newfound admiration was just a facade, a way to curry favor with the strong.
[They’re probably cursing me in their hearts,] Zhuang Rui thought.
Even so, he didn’t feel he was in the wrong.
In the apocalypse, saints were the first to die. He had no intention of being a naïve do-gooder who helped everyone without expecting anything in return.
Such people rarely met good ends.
His approach was to help those he deemed worth helping, while securing his own interests. His companions, for instance.
As for those who sought to profit without contributing anything? Zhuang Rui had no time for them.