Ancient Painting

Inside a five-star hotel. Having discarded his coat, Yaoguang changed into fresh clothes he had asked the hotel staff to purchase. He moved his body slightly, shaking his muscles and bones, but found no hidden injuries. Yet, recalling Lei Ao's frenzied, violent struggle before death... "Formidable," he murmured softly. That demon had been formidable. Its physique had likely reached the limits of the human body. Although under his binding technique, it had never been given a chance to show its might before being slain in two sword strikes, still... That demon was by no means the ceiling for its kind. As for himself... He was already approaching the limits of humanity. Images left behind by the body's previous owner from when he first crossed over flashed through Yaoguang's mind. It was a bloody scene of a demon sucking the brains out of several youths. Over the past year, as he hunted demons continuously, he had realized that human brains could augment a demon's intellect, accelerating their evolution. This was the relationship between hunter and prey. Irreconcilable. The crux was... Who was the hunter, and who was the prey. Demons infiltrated human society to hunt humans. He concealed himself in the shadows to hunt demons. Who would achieve the final victory, Yaoguang did not know. All he could do for now was elevate himself and resolve the problem at its root: kill. ... "Demons view humans as mere ants. Even holding a sword to their throats and threatening their lives only provokes intense humiliation and stirs their demonic nature, adding needless danger. To this day, I still do not know where demons come from. Are they a native characteristic of this world... or..." Scenes from science fiction and fantasy films flashed through Yaoguang's mind. "An invasion from beyond?" The former was slightly better. If demons and humans had coexisted since antiquity, the natural world had already found an equilibrium. Yet if it were the latter... "Three demons gathering in one place is something I've never encountered before. Surely, there will be greater gains." Pondering this, Yaoguang lowered his head and turned his gaze toward the sword in his hand. To ensure nothing went awry, he needed to carry a weapon. Yet this sword... "Needs to be replaced." It was a short sword. Less than eighty centimeters long. Straight and hiltless. At first glance, it resembled a sharpened, flattened metal rod. This design suited Yaoguang's concealment very well. Through the Formless secret technique, the short sword could be hidden along his arm like a magician's prop. Moreover, because his qi and blood nourished it constantly, it felt almost like an extension of his arm, undetectable even by modern scanning devices. Unfortunately... Cracks had already formed along the blade. "Nourishing a sword anew with the Formless secret technique until it truly becomes part of my body, undetectable even to instruments, takes time," Yaoguang murmured. "To avoid wasting time on sword-nourishing, I must choose carefully, lest it shatter again when a demon manifests its true form." Though the sword in his hand had been costly, it could hardly be considered a divine weapon. Back when he had just unlocked the Formless secret technique, experimenting was more important than practicality, so he had simply spent a little over ten thousand to buy a handy blade. Now... He could afford to replace it with a truly fine sword. Reflecting on the process of nourishing the short sword with the Formless secret technique, he couldn't shake the illusion of an immortal cultivator refining a natal flying sword with essence blood. Of course, he had no essence blood, and the Formless secret technique was not an artifact-crafting method for forging natal flying swords. "Tomorrow, I'll see if I can find a good sword," Yaoguang said. He set the nearly ruined short sword aside. With practiced ease, he focused his mind on the profession information search engine—that mysterious ancient tree. Controlling the growth nutrients obtained from slaying the demon, he channeled them into the branch representing [Martial Artist]. Immediately, the branch swayed as if plunging into the deeper chaos of the void, absorbing every scrap of knowledge regarding the tempering of the internal organs and pouring it into Yaoguang's mind. And just as this infusion finished, the branch representing [Martial Artist] grew to its absolute limit. The information flooding his mind was no longer confined to the mere cultivation methods of a [Rank 3 Grandmaster]; it even contained insights on how a Rank 3 Grandmaster could fight upward and defeat a Martial Saint. "The data on Rank 3 Grandmasters is completely covered. I could cultivate to peak organ tempering with my eyes closed. If nothing goes wrong, slaying one more demon will allow the ancient tree to bear a Grandmaster Dao Fruit, deriving a Rank 3 Grandmaster secret technique. If all goes smoothly, the excess nutrients might even allow the branch representing the [Martial Artist] profession to break through from Rank 3 to Rank 4. By then, everything it gathers will be data on Rank 4 Martial Saints." Yaoguang thought to himself. Martial Saints were only Rank 4. What lay at Rank 5? What about Rank 6, 7, 8, or even Rank 9 and 10? Moreover, Rank 10 might not be the limit. What if there were Ranks 11, 12, 13? Becoming a [Human Immortal]—riding the empty wind and supping on dew—was by no means an unattainable dream. The future held great promise. "Furthermore..." He sensed the ancient tree growing vigorously in his mental world, now infinitely close to four meters tall. "Once the [Martial Artist] branch reaches Rank 4, the ancient tree should sprout a new branch. When that happens, I can choose a new sub-profession to gather nutrients even faster." ... The next day. Zhang Qing arrived bright and early at Yaoguang's hotel once again, enthusiastically leading him straight toward the bladed weapons market. After returning home and mentioning the matter to his father, he had been granted a dedicated sum of funds specifically to keep Young Master Su well entertained. Unfortunately, Shanlong City was a small place after all. Yaoguang looked around, but failed to find a satisfactory short sword. Seeing this, Zhang Qing grew somewhat anxious and quickly asked his father to make inquiries. True to his reputation as a local powerhouse in Shanlong City, Zhang's father soon provided an answer. "Young Master Su, here in Dayu, not only are firearms strictly regulated, but bladed weapons are also restricted. The industry here is nowhere near as thriving as in neighboring Feiyu. If you trust me, we can head across the border to Guangming City. We know of a sword workshop there whose master comes from a genuine lineage of swordsmithing masters stretching back several centuries," Zhang Qing said. "Let's go," Yaoguang agreed without hesitation. As a Grandmaster, he could disregard most dangers in the world. "Right away!" Zhang Qing made the arrangements swiftly. In less than half an hour, their car arrived at the border checkpoint. Visas and paperwork were barely necessary; someone even specially opened a side gate to let the two exit. Guangming City lay directly opposite Shanlong City, but its economic prosperity lagged behind even Shanlong. At a glance, ten-story buildings were few and far between. Most were four-, five-, or six-story residential blocks, built chaotically with no apparent planning. Though cars drove along the streets, bicycles and motorcycles were far more common. Moreover, the riders ignored traffic regulations, constantly jamming the streets into gridlock. Under these conditions, it took a full hour before the sedan finally pulled up in front of a courtyard on the city outskirts. Mounted weapons were sold in the front of the courtyard, while the back served as living quarters. At first glance, the establishment had the distinctly cramped, cheap air of a private knockoff workshop. "Where's Elder He? I was introduced by Boss Zhou—a big customer has arrived," Zhang Qing asked upon seeing the receptionist. Seeing their distinguished attire and hearing they were introduced by an acquaintance, the receptionist promptly led them into the inner courtyard. Although the inner courtyard was a residential area, numerous swords and sabers were displayed there. Moreover, their quality was noticeably superior. Yaoguang looked them over. None of these blades were inferior to his cracked short sword. Yet after surveying them for a moment, his gaze fell upon an ancient painting mounted and protected with great care on the wall. On it, countless tiny figures clad in armor and wielding spears besieged a monster with a bull's head, a human body, three heads, and six arms. In comparison to them, the monster stood a hundred feet tall, roaring toward the heavens. High above in the firmament, a colossal sword—countless times larger than the beast—pierced through the clouds, as though about to descend from the heavens. Just the tip of the sword protruding from the clouds imparted a suffocating sense of oppression; it was hard to imagine the true magnitude of the weapon in its entirety. "Heavenly Sword Subduing Demons Painting?" Yaoguang remarked. "This is an antiquity dating back a thousand years, and one of our Tianjian Workshop's crowning treasures," an elderly man who looked to be in his sixties but remained full of vitality walked out and introduced with a chuckle. "Heavenly sword subduing demons?" Yaoguang asked. "Do demons truly exist in this world?" "That was a thousand years ago. Who can say for sure? Believe, and they exist; don't, and they do not," the old man said with a sigh. Yet Yaoguang saw through him at a glance: the man was merely playing mysterious. Paying it no further heed, Yaoguang said plainly, "Show me your best swords." "Then you've come to the right place, honored guest! Our Tianjian Workshop has been handed down for over eight hundred years, reaching the pinnacle of swordsmithing. We've won championships at major swordsmithing competitions time and again. Not just in Guangming City, but throughout all of Feiyu, we are among the absolute elite. Virtually no one can rival us..." The old man launched into a boastful spiel. Yet the words he used were nothing more than grand modifiers like "pinnacle," "greatest," and "unrivaled." He did not cite a single concrete ranking. Fortunately, Yaoguang was not looking for an incomparable divine artifact anyway. The old man guided him through several rooms in the courtyard displaying famous sabers and precious swords, and the quality of the blades was indeed satisfying. Otherwise, the place would not have earned its reputation. The prices, however, were rather steep. Yaoguang chose a short sword of similar style, and Tianjian Workshop demanded five hundred thousand for it on the spot. Zhang Qing offered to foot the bill, but Yaoguang declined. Having purchased the sword, the two left the courtyard and drove back. A short distance down the road, however, a window on a minibus ahead suddenly flew open. A frail young woman leaped out and shouted for help toward the crowd. Yaoguang took a look... She seemed somewhat familiar. She appeared to be the girl who had shared a taxi with him to Shanlong City two days ago.