Phantom

The chamber was completely empty. Even the blood on the ground had vanished without a trace, leaving one to wonder whether a battle had truly taken place here just moments before. Chen Chuan was slightly surprised, but not overly shocked. When he had gone up earlier, Talu had told him not to worry about the corpses below, saying that senior would dispose of them shortly. That so-called senior, of course, referred to the creature blocking the fissure. Talu had also told him that when past generations of Talu went into seclusion, they sometimes remained inside for a year or two without emerging. During that time, no one other than Talu was permitted to enter. A third limit fighter could go without food or water for long periods as long as they exerted no energy, but sustaining themselves for that long was impossible. Whenever hunger or thirst set in, so long as there was an intense mental desire, the creature beneath their feet would secrete copious fluid and a fungus-like substance to sustain them. To be frank, these were bodily secretions and outgrowths of the creature. Residing here, the creature itself also needed to "feed." Most of what it consumed came from the other side, but it could also digest organisms that entered the fissure from this world, including all manner of corpses. Such an idea was hard for an ordinary person to stomach. Fortunately, Chen Chuan went out every day to eat normal meals and had no need for any of it. Chen Chuan looked around. The cleanup was exceptionally thorough; even the men's clothing and weapons had been absorbed along with them, or perhaps expelled outside. Still, those men had possessed mediocre strength, and the weapons they wielded were standard-issue arms provided by the Linakes Federation, possessing almost no collectible value. It was no loss if they were gone. He did not let the matter distract him. Those few men could hardly be considered trouble. Truth be told, he had originally expected enemies on the level of the Anyao Arena. Setting aside their exact strength, the techniques and jin wielded by people from that caliber of martial school would have undoubtedly offered him far greater inspiration. Setting the thought aside, he walked forward. But after just a few steps, he suddenly sensed something different in his surroundings—a subtle shift in the field. Looking ahead, he discovered that a figure had appeared out of nowhere. It flickered in and out of sight, looking indistinct and hazy, its facial features impossible to discern. All he could make out was that it wore a Danliu School martial uniform, very similar to the one Talu wore. The sight gave him a sense of deja vu. The figure bore a striking resemblance to active conscious entities like Hongfu and Liying. It appeared ethereal, yet seemed real. Just as he was pondering this, the figure suddenly took up a fighting stance toward him. Chen Chuan raised an eyebrow. Yet the figure did not attack. Instead, it began demonstrating a technique. Each time it executed a movement, wisp after wisp of green fluorescence flickered from within its body. After watching for a while, Chen Chuan realized this must be some kind of jin technique of the Danliu School. The spots of light corresponded precisely to the force-exertion nodes of mutated tissue. He could not help recalling what Talu had told him earlier about the lost, profound secret arts of the Danliu School residing here. At first, he had not understood her meaning, but now it seemed directly connected to this. Why had it not appeared before? Was it because of insufficient mental power? Not necessarily. This phantom had only appeared just now. Could it be that absorbing the corpses of those men had triggered it? He nodded to himself. That seemed very likely. After practicing the forms several times in succession, the figure slowly faded away, and the sensation of that field receded alongside it. He did not know whether absorbing those men had only provided enough energy for this much, or if there were other methods of awakening it. He decided he would mention it to Talu when he returned above ground the next morning. Seeing that everything had returned to normal, he walked forward and took a seat in his original spot. As he drew near, the tangled branches ahead parted outward, and light once more bathed his body. Only this time, not long after he immersed himself in meditation, he suddenly sensed something: a rustling sound, like people whispering and discussing something in hurried voices. Moreover, something flashed past in the light ahead. After a moment, a shadow could be seen crouching at the entrance, seemingly trying to wriggle its way toward where he sat. Chen Chuan watched the dark figure calmly. It was likely something from the other side. Since he sat barely a meter from the entrance, the creature seemed poised to rush him at any second. Yet he paid it no heed. With the surrounding creature blocking the way, the entity could not enter. It was best ignored entirely. The night passed. At five in the morning, he withdrew from his meditative cultivation, checked his watch, picked up the Xuejun Saber, and departed. When he returned to the clifftop, gusts of heavy wind tugged continuously at his clothes. Just then, the beating of wings sounded in the air as Chaoming descended from the sky. Chen Chuan reached out to stroke it, fed it a tube of nutritional paste specially made by the Winged Blade Company, and gave it an affectionate pat. The bird took to the air again and flew toward the training grounds, where delighted cheers from children immediately rang out. Chaoming was very popular with the local children. Above all, it was exceedingly clever and showed no fear of strangers, so the village kids had been flocking around it these past few days. Chen Chuan walked in the other direction and found Talu drinking coconut milk under a reinforced shed. Uncle Gan was beside her as well, so Chen Chuan recounted what he had witnessed upon returning below the day before. Uncle Gan looked astonished. "Mr. Chen, I never expected your mental level to be so high! I heard Old Talu say that only when one's mental power reaches a certain threshold can they see the legacy left inside." Talu looked at Chen Chuan with deep admiration. "Yes, my master told me that the legacy is kept inside, and I can only see it once I meet the conditions to practice it." Chen Chuan said, "I suspected yesterday that it might be your school's secret art, so I didn't examine the specifics closely. You two need not worry." Talu did not mind at all. She said earnestly, "It's quite all right, Mr. Chen. It wouldn't matter even if you studied it. Master and I joined the Purist Faction long ago, so our secret arts are Purist Faction secret arts. Any member of the Purist Faction may study them so long as their own conditions suffice." Chen Chuan nodded, yet he still harbored no intention of learning it. Such esoteric paths required practitioners of the same lineage to unleash their greatest potency, requiring the development of specific mutated tissue. An outsider attempting to learn it would never grasp the true essence. Still, using it as a reference posed no issue at all. After discussing the matter with the two, he left on his own and once more sat down before the lotus pedestal, allowing his spirit, somewhat taut from a full night of meditative circulation, to unwind. Because sitting here left his thoughts both relaxed and focused, he had usually chosen this time over the past few days to ponder his Mind Jin. Through a period of contemplation, a clear direction had gradually formed in his mind. From what he had observed, most people's Mind Jin, aside from integrating with their regular jin, usually needed to align with their combat tactics to achieve maximum power. Everyone he had encountered wielded only a single type of Mind Jin. That was because those people could only utilize a single type of regular jin. Yet he had no need to be bound by such restrictions. Given the unique nature of Zhouyuan Jin, his tactics were undeniably capable of far greater variety, and he could even unleash multiple forms of Mind Jin. Furthermore, fighting with different types of jin and shifting between them with fluid ease mid-combat was the tactic he had always employed, and he had no intention of abandoning it. With this as his foundation, he needed to hone and select his Mind Jin accordingly. His greatest advantage lay in the supreme strength and speed unlocked when combined with his Second Self, capable of bursting forth in an instant with peerless jin that ordinary men could never match. Even without the enhancement of the Second Self, considering his current physical constitution alone, few among those he had encountered could surpass him. Therefore, once engaged in frontal combat, what he needed was an unstoppable force that could shatter the enemy's spearhead at its sharpest point. That was what he believed, and he held absolute confidence in it. Just as this conviction took root, he suddenly felt a surge of strength rise naturally within his body. This power was both the spontaneous activation of jin under his own willpower and the condensation and expression of his spirit. It was distinct from the Mind Jin he had wielded before. That earlier version had not been thoroughly imbued with his conviction; it had merely crossed the threshold through the sheer, brute intensity of merging with the Second Self. Only now, after opening the Heavenly Gate and cultivating his mental power over these past days, achieving tremendous progress, had he truly grasped the essence of this technique. However... He felt the surge of power. This jin still needed to be tested in real combat. Only through repeated tempering, gradual adjustment, and refinement could its inherent advantages be brought into full bloom. Meanwhile, beneath a shed outside the training grounds, Uncle Gan was applying medicine to a youth, massaging his muscles and bones while instructing an apprentice standing nearby on how to properly grasp the essential points. Conditioning and maintenance following a fighter's training were of paramount importance. Those lacking natural talent especially needed to pay attention to this; otherwise, before any mutated tissue could be stimulated, they might very well cripple themselves first. As he was giving instructions, he saw a young man with a pack on his back trudging up the slope against the biting wind. Uncle Gan looked slightly puzzled. This was a mail carrier. Some islanders had relatives on the outer islands, and several students were outright from abroad, making mail and parcel delivery inevitable. However, island transportation was inconvenient, so deliveries usually came only once every ten days. Right now, it happened to be the gale season, making crossing the sea by boat exceedingly hazardous. Why was a delivery arriving at this time? A faint sense of foreboding suddenly crept into his heart. Dripping with sweat, the courier stepped beneath the shed and greeted everyone. He took down his pack, wiped away his sweat, rummaged inside, and pulled out an envelope with a black cover, holding it out to Uncle Gan. The moment Uncle Gan saw it, his expression changed drastically.