Beneath the surface, a lithe figure darted swiftly through the water, gliding back and forth.
A crab perched upon a reef pumped its pincers, as if cheering him on.
Half an hour later, the figure rapidly surfaced to draw a breath before diving back down.
"My active underwater time has extended to roughly half an hour."
Liang Qu estimated the time, feeling a surge of excitement.
In his previous life, the world record for holding one's breath underwater had been twenty-four minutes. That was while remaining completely motionless, with an exceptionally low heart rate that bordered on a state of "tortoise breathing"—an achievement of one in a million.
Yet here he was, actively expending oxygen at a high rate while swimming fast, effortlessly lasting half an hour without needing to surface. It was entirely beyond human limits, something not even a martial master could manage.
"My rough perception range has expanded to ten meters, with a detailed perception circle of five meters. The area is much larger, and my concealment is far better. Unless they come within a meter, fish can't detect me at all."
The wider his perception range, the greater his reach for water control. Within his detailed perception circle, he could command water as easily as his own limbs, meaning that an expansion in perception directly translated to an increase in his water control.
Liang Qu opened his fingers. Under his mental command, the invisible currents morphed into various shapes over his palm.
He manipulated the water into a vortex. The smaller it grew, the faster it spun, until it shrank from the height of half a person down to the size of a human head.
Even so, cutting with a water blade remained far out of reach.
At first, Liang Qu had thought developing a water blade would make for an exceptionally powerful technique. Later, he realized that wasn't the case; it was an ability with an abysmal cost-to-benefit ratio.
The force he could exert over water was roughly three hundred jin, and he could compress that into a ten-liter burst—amounting to thirty jin of force per liter. It sounded impressive, and it was more than enough for manipulating objects or catching fish, but it was light-years away from a true water blade.
A low-pressure water jet of thirty megapascals could only slice through foam or wooden boards, and even that required applying three hundred kilograms—six hundred jin of force—onto a single square centimeter.
To cut through flesh required at least fifty megapascals; to cut steel required a hundred megapascals, along with an abrasive like fine sand mixed in.
It was completely impossible.
Mixing blades or steel needles into the vortex might provide some lethality, but the cost was far too steep. There was no industrial machinery in this era; thousands of blades couldn't be stamped out in minutes. Every single one had to be painstakingly ground by hand.
Liang Qu doubted whether even the cyan marsh spirit, the Marsh Marmoset, could produce a water blade purely through water compression. It would probably take the purple marsh spirit, the Water King Ape, to achieve that.
Yet if someone actually possessed that level of power, it would be far simpler to just crush an enemy to pieces directly using sheer water pressure.
That was unless marsh spirits underwent a metamorphosis at a certain stage and manifested usable supernatural abilities.
Liang Qu felt that was something worth looking forward to. He could faintly sense that once his fusion surpassed the halfway mark, the marsh spirit would undergo some changes.
As for how to manipulate blood—which was eighty-five percent water—Liang Qu actually had some ideas, and had even put them into practice once.
Back at the martial hall, he had successfully counterattacked by forcing his assailant's blood to flow backward.
Unfortunately, the blood he could control was currently limited to the most concentrated areas, like the aorta of the heart. He couldn't even affect the spleen; though it stored plenty of blood, the blood wasn't concentrated in one place, being distributed entirely across tiny vessels.
Liang Qu had also noticed that when he met with Senior Brother Hu or Senior Brother Xiang, he couldn't detect the flow of blood within their hearts inside his perception circle.
If he couldn't perceive it, naturally he couldn't control it.
Senior Brother Xiang hadn't broken through the blood gate yet. Was it because of the first three gates? Did the skin gate possess the effect of blocking his perception?
For now, he had no way of knowing.
Liang Qu had even toyed with the thought of manipulating his own blood to produce an effect similar to stimulating qi and blood, but he hadn't dared to test it.
It was too dangerous. One careless slip could easily spiral out of control, and even if it worked, it might shorten his lifespan.
He practiced martial arts and caught fish in order to live longer and better. Risking his life on such experiments would be penny-wise and pound-foolish.
He reached out to communicate with the Marsh Cauldron.
[Cauldron Master: Liang Qu]
[Refined Marsh Spirit: Water Monkey (White) (Fusion: 49%)]
[Essence of the Waters: None]
[River Favor: None]
[Dominated Water Beasts: Taihua alligator, six-whisker catfish, Stone Pincer Crab]
[Evaluation: The Water Monkey marsh spirit originates from the great Lord of the Huai and Guo Rivers; incompletely awakened, an insignificant nobody of meager nature and frail destiny]
After absorbing the red-blood perch, his marsh spirit fusion had reached forty-nine percent, right on the verge of crossing the halfway mark. Even the final line of the evaluation had shifted slightly—no longer "insufficiently awakened," but "incompletely awakened."
Above the white marsh spirit Water Monkey was the cyan marsh spirit Marsh Marmoset, and above that was the purple marsh spirit Water King Ape. Even reaching the level above that—Wuzhiqi—was not entirely out of the question.
Right now, Liang Qu could only manipulate the blood of ordinary people, but in the beginning, he hadn't even been able to do that much. As he continued to advance, the future held great promise.
In just two months, he had gone from a starving orphan to an inner disciple of a Tiger Hunter realm grand martial master. In a few more days, he would break through the skin gate and become a true martial practitioner. Liang Qu was already thoroughly satisfied.
When the summer tax arrived in the fifth month, would that tax clerk still dare to kick over his hu?
Feeling a surge of satisfaction, Liang Qu manipulated the water for a bit longer. Once he had reacquainted himself with his abilities, he set about checking on the growth of the lotus root.
He had constantly tried to propagate the treasure plant lotus root by snapping off segments to plant in other spots, but unfortunately, not a single one had survived. Every piece had rotted away in the water, wasting quite a few treasure plants for nothing.
It seemed this specific stretch of water was the only place where it could grow. Liang Qu had long wanted to dig up the silt and see if something was buried underneath, yet he feared there might be nothing there at all—that the treasure plant taking root here was merely a coincidence. If he destroyed the patch only to find no treasure and kill the remaining lotus root, the loss would be total. So he had held back from trying.
A treasure plant with healing properties had played an immense role in his growth. In the beginning, the chronic physical deficit left behind by long periods of starvation had been slowly replenished by the lotus root; without it, nothing would have progressed so smoothly.
Earlier, aside from its choice edible parts, the rest of the crab monster's carapace had been smashed by Liang Qu and buried in the silt to see if it would aid the lotus root's growth.
From the looks of it now...
Nothing could be told. The crab shell was simply too hard, and even after being crushed, it didn't break down easily. Three days had passed, and it remained buried in the exact same state as before.
After circling the area and confirming that the damage inflicted by the crab monster hadn't stunted the lotus root's growth, Liang Qu began clearing away loose stones to expand the plant's growing space.
Once everything was done, he prepared to float up to the surface for air. But suddenly, he spotted a speck of light ignite in the darkness of the distance, swaying eerily as it drew closer.
Yet the directional awareness through his spiritual links told him that his two beasts were also right there, rushing toward him at high speed as if chasing one another.
*Damn, did those two bring back something they can't handle?*
Liang Qu turned, intending to flee, when sensations of "scalding," "hot," and "cooked" suddenly flooded through the beasts' spiritual links.
That wasn't quite what he had imagined.
Liang Qu halted, deciding to take a look first.
As they drew closer, he realized the two beasts hadn't brought back an enemy at all. Instead, they were carrying a glowing object, and the way they were transporting it was utterly bizarre—bouncing it back and forth between their foreheads.
Fat Catfish would catch it and toss it to Cannot Move, and Cannot Move would catch it and toss it right back to Fat Catfish.
The sense of déjà vu was so striking that it reminded Liang Qu of juggling a piping-hot roasted sweet potato back and forth between his hands.
Reaching Liang Qu, the two beasts tossed the glowing object down before him. A massive crimson feather drifted slowly toward the riverbed.
Liang Qu raised an eyebrow.
Could this be...
A feather from the fiery bird great demon!?
Chapter 47