Chapter 52: It’s Really Here
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
Qin Ming could hardly believe it. This old blade manual seemed determined to surprise him, going far beyond anything he had expected. Even the old man’s blade style—the one he’d glimpsed from the manual before—had felt masterful, something way above Qin Ming’s current level. Qin Ming knew he was still a beginner, unable to tap into the full power of that fierce, ultimate strike. He’d barely had time to try the “Sky Support Force,” and now this “Tathagata Force” was getting involved, too?
“Alright, don’t get carried away,” he told himself, shaking his head as if to rattle the wild hopes out of his mind. If anyone had ever truly mastered the Tathagata Force, they wouldn’t waste their time with a scruffy old book like this. Legends like Sky Support Force or Tathagata Force were said to be even stronger than the famous Giant Spirit God Force. Some said they bordered on divine. There was no chance the real Sky Support Force would hide between these dusty pages.
Still, Qin Ming decided to focus on the text before him, letting himself soak in its words. As he read more carefully, the feelings inside the manual became sharper, the scenes more vivid, as if he were right there with the original author.
He started with the Tathagata Force description—a single line that held a strange, powerful passion. Whoever wrote it must have been totally obsessed. In his mind’s eye, Qin Ming saw a rough-looking man with a thick beard. The man stood under a raging storm, a broad blade strapped to his back. He stared up at the thunderclouds with frustration in his eyes, then shouted into the swirling night:
“Tathagata Force?! I’m gonna nail you down like a hammer, you hear me?!”
Qin Ming blinked, thrown off by the man’s outburst. For a second, he nearly lost that special link he had with the book. Then he understood—this bearded warrior had gone through countless struggles to find these secret pages. He’d expected something legendary. Instead, after flipping to the end of the manuscript, he discovered that all the hype boiled down to a so-called “Nail Force,” basically just a technique focused on fierce piercing power. The original author had noted that the Tathagata Force included the Nail Force, as if that made it something special.
Qin Ming couldn’t help sympathizing. He understood the bearded man’s disappointment. Great martial arts often came from mixing all sorts of skills together—like the rumored Sky Support Force, which was said to be woven from different styles. The Tathagata Force might be the same: a blend of many techniques. But from the bearded man’s bitter words, it was clear how let down he’d felt. He must’ve poured so much effort into chasing a dream that ended up feeling like a cheap trick.
As Qin Ming read on, he saw how the angry man still trained in the technique, cursing all the while. He was furious and determined, feeling both cheated and unwilling to quit. Qin Ming found himself echoing those emotions—his heart tightened with the same frustrated energy.
“Ugh, this is so annoying!” Qin Ming muttered, sounding more like a grumpy teenager now. He decided not to fight the feelings. He let himself sink fully into those emotions. The more he embraced the frustration, the clearer the technique’s details became.
Finally, he snapped the book shut. He was still grumbling under his breath, “I’m gonna nail you down like a hammer!” He had to close his eyes and stand there for a good fifteen minutes before the leftover anger drained away. Then he stepped outside to the courtyard to give the technique a try. Much to his surprise, it felt totally natural, as if he’d practiced it for ages.
He could sense the Sky Support Force flowing more smoothly in his body, gathering at his fingertips. Gradually, the Nail Force took shape, as if all that emotional struggle had taught him the essence of it. He understood now: these old memories and feelings could help him learn complicated moves, as if he’d borrowed decades of experience and made it his own in minutes. However, this shortcut couldn’t give him physical strength he hadn’t earned. He’d still have to work for that, training to move from his second Awakening to the third on his own. There were no shortcuts for building raw power.
Even so, it was enough. Techniques that took years to understand could now be grasped in a fraction of the time thanks to these lingering memories. Qin Ming smiled, thinking that he’d gained something priceless. Practicing a bit more, he tested the Nail Force on a heavy stone mill in the yard. With barely any effort, he pressed his finger into the stone, feeling the mixture of adhesive, tearing, and drilling power that came from blending the Sky Support and Nail Forces. It was surprisingly effective.
Suddenly, he heard crying from the street. Qin Ming pushed open the courtyard door and saw someone passing by.
“The old man from the Li family just died,” the person said sadly.
Qin Ming felt a jolt in his chest. Wasn’t the Li family’s house right near where he’d seen that strange black mist earlier? A chill ran up his spine. What was going on? He never believed in ghosts or wandering spirits. Most “monsters” were just mutated creatures. But he couldn’t ignore what he’d seen—a drifting shadow, like black mist, snaking through the dark.
“Could this be what Cao Long and Mu Qing mentioned?” Qin Ming wondered. “Something even the big families fear but can’t see?” A tightness gripped his heart.
Looking around, he found no trace of the black mist. Twin Trees Village was small, only about forty families, and everyone would soon know something had happened. Just then, Xu Yue Ping approached, sighing heavily.
“We finally got new grain from outside, and hunting’s safer since the mutated beasts backed off,” Xu Yue Ping said, shaking his head, “but now the elders are dying off one by one.”
Qin Ming frowned. “Wait, has this been happening a lot lately?”
Xu Yue Ping nodded sadly. “Yes. Lately, in nearby villages, several old folks have passed away. And a few younger hunters died too, mostly those hurt on the hunt. People say it might be connected to the weapons found in the mountains. But no one dares go there now, and some who took weapons before never had any issues.”
Qin Ming narrowed his eyes. He felt certain this had something to do with the black mist he kept seeing. He’d first spotted it in that canyon filled with old weapons. Now it was reappearing here and there, leaving death behind. Qin Ming couldn’t help feeling uneasy. The sense of accomplishment he’d felt mastering the Nail Force vanished. He worried that sooner or later, that shadowy thing would come for him.
He decided to get moving. He needed answers. Perhaps Old Man Liu could help. He hurried over to Old Man Liu’s place, his mind racing.
“You want to forge a blade yourself?” Old Man Liu asked, lifting an eyebrow. “You’re serious about that?”
Qin Ming nodded firmly. “Yeah, I need a proper blade. And I want to do it my way, you know?”
Old Man Liu sighed. “You’ll have trouble finding a free smith right now. They’re all busy since hunting’s safe again. If you really want to give it a try, you’ll have to wait until morning, before they start their work.”
Qin Ming shrugged. “Alright, I guess I’ll just have to be patient. But I don’t want to draw too much attention, so no crazy bribes or anything. We’ll go when the time’s right.”
Old Man Liu patted his old dog and sent it off with a message. With nothing else to do right away, Qin Ming headed home. He picked up the blade manual again, hoping to calm himself by diving back into that world of skill and memory.
He saw the old man from before, practicing a powerful interception force. This was a high-level Sky Support technique, born from mixing several simpler methods. Qin Ming couldn’t figure out how many moves the old man had combined—it was too dim and unclear—but he could sense it was something extraordinary. Without these memory scenes, Qin Ming would’ve spent years studying such a complex force. But now he learned swiftly, like a student guided by a wise teacher’s ghostly whispers.
It struck him that even the old man had never reached the legendary “Sky Interception Force.” He hadn’t had the right body strength or the right known techniques. But he’d gotten close, and the force he had created was still remarkable. Qin Ming knew that just mastering this interception force alone made all the trouble worth it.
With a smile, Qin Ming recalled the note in the silk book: “Blend, blend, blend!” It was clear now. You had to draw on other techniques and use special spiritual materials to strengthen yourself. Just working on one skill in isolation wouldn’t cut it. He finished off the last of his spiritual materials that night, and as his body used up the energy, he felt himself stepping into his third Awakening even more quickly than the second. His strength soared above three thousand pounds, his speed and resilience improved, and everything felt sharper and steadier.
At midnight, Qin Ming met Old Man Liu, and they quietly slipped out to the blacksmith’s workshop in Silver Vine Town. The place was silent, everyone asleep. Under the dim glow of the forge’s coals, Old Man Liu helped pump the bellows while Qin Ming tried to melt down a piece of white jade alloy. No matter how hot the fire burned, the metal wouldn’t fully melt—only glow red. Old Man Liu scratched his head, guessing it must be some special treasure from the mountains.
Qin Ming, refusing to give up, hammered the alloy into shape. It was backbreaking work, and by the time he’d formed a decent blade, both of them were worn out. The blade was short, no longer than his arm, but it felt just right. Too hard to sharpen properly with their simple tools, but for now, it would do. Qin Ming painted it with a mineral layer to hide its snowy-white shine. If he ever wanted to restore its true look, he’d just peel off the paint later.
With the blade finished, Qin Ming asked, “Is it too early to ask that family to borrow their manual now?”
Old Man Liu squinted at the dark sky. “Definitely too early. The breakfast shops aren’t even open. We’d be waking them for no good reason.”
They wandered around, hoping to find something to eat, but the town was still asleep. That’s when Qin Ming’s heart stopped for a moment. He spotted the black mist again. It drifted out from a nearby house, and the moment it seemed to notice them, it sped right toward them.
“Grandpa Liu, let’s get moving,” Qin Ming said quietly, giving Old Man Liu a serious look. Old Man Liu, who had also reached his third Awakening and could see Qin Ming’s expression clearly in the faint light, nodded at once.
They turned down a narrow alley, trying to shake the mist off. But the black fog followed, floating silently behind like a hungry predator. Qin Ming realized they’d been chosen as prey. Maybe it recognized him from the canyon. Maybe it just wanted the only two people wandering around at this odd hour.
“Let’s head back to the village,” Qin Ming said, gripping his blade’s handle. “Might be we run into something worth hunting along the way,” he added, trying to sound casual, like a daring teenager who didn’t want to show fear.
As they moved toward the countryside, the black mist trailed after them, waiting for a quiet spot. Once they reached a place where thick trees and shadows twisted through the darkness, the mist attacked. It swept forward, silent and swift.
Qin Ming was ready. Without a second’s delay, he whirled around and swung his new blade straight into the heart of the ghostly darkness.