Chapter 66: Combat Art

Everyone in the training ground watched as Lu Yue was carried away on a stretcher.

They had imagined many possible outcomes, but never once did they expect Lu Yue to be defeated by a single punch from Li Yi.

They were all Qi Refining realm cultivators; their strengths might differ slightly, but no one could possibly dominate so utterly—yet Li Yi had done exactly that. Everyone knew his punch had landed squarely on Lu Yue’s forearms, not on any vital point.

Even so, Lu Yue couldn’t withstand it—he nearly died. No, Lu Yue wasn’t killed not because Li Yi’s punch couldn’t kill him, but because Lu Yue wasn’t an enemy, and Li Yi had held back.

Once they realized this, everyone fell silent.

If Lu Yue lost so badly, then they themselves would be dead from a single punch—no chance to counterattack. No wonder those extras in movies died from one blow against the protagonist; reality really did have such absurdity, and now they realized they were the extras.

“Is Li Yi’s punch really that terrifying? Even that annoying guy Lu Yue couldn’t block one punch—he’s already in the hospital.”

“That’s not a punch—it’s a technique, a terrifying fist art. Lu Yue didn’t lose to Li Yi; he lost to that fist art,” said a cultivator named Liu Yu, lowering his voice.

“Don’t make excuses, Liu Yu. You both trained in combat—why couldn’t you beat Lu Yue? It’s because you’re weaker. Lu Yue lost to Li Yi for the same reason. No technique can erase all differences. Do you really believe that even if you learned this fist art, you’d still be Li Yi’s match?” countered another man, Zhang Jikai.

“He’s right. Sometimes it’s not the technique that differs—it’s the person. We should be grateful Li Yi is our colleague, not our enemy. Next time I’m on a mission, I don’t want my opponent to be this terrifying—I’d die without even knowing how.” Someone else agreed.

“Hah, Lu Yue had it coming. He always picked fights for practice—now he’s been taken down by this Li Yi. Looks like he won’t be out of the hospital for at least ten or twenty days. But speaking of Li Yi, I just remembered—he was involved in that murder case in the old district seven days ago. He killed eight Qi Refining cultivators with his bare hands. Fierce guy. Didn’t expect him to get recruited into the Investigation Bureau so fast.”

Zhang Jikai suddenly remembered something and laughed.

Other cultivators in the training ground began murmuring among themselves.

But right then, Li Yi followed his instructor, Li Shudi, away to the indoor training ground. He intended to master every martial art technique in the shortest time possible, integrate them, strip away the unnecessary, and refine his own combat art based on fist techniques.

Instructor Li Shudi, a master of martial arts, was proficient in nearly all mainstream traditional martial arts and gave his guidance to Li Yi with great care.

“Li Yi, cultivators have excellent memory and body coordination—they learn martial arts quickly. I’ll demonstrate, you watch, and ask if anything’s unclear,” Li Shudi wasted no time and began demonstrating traditional martial arts.

He demonstrated once, then explained the key movements.

Li Yi said nothing, merely watching closely, memorizing intently.

“Xingyi Quan emphasizes hand-foot coordination, elbow-knee coordination, shoulder-hip coordination. The splitting fist has two forms: double-split and single-split. The power trajectory runs from forehead to chest and abdomen—only then does the split strike become powerful and substantial.”

“Hong Quan is a form-based art, stressing solid footing, steady defense with offensive intent.”

“We briefly covered Tongbei Quan earlier—now I’ll demonstrate its power generation method. Pay close attention.”

Li Shudi, who had won the national martial arts championship at age twenty, effortlessly demonstrated various traditional arts. He didn’t just know how to perform them—he understood their theoretical foundations thoroughly, explaining in great detail. Had it not been for the Heaven’s Collapse event, someone like him would never have ended up as an instructor at the Tianchang City training base.

As Li Shudi continuously demonstrated different fist styles, Li Yi’s mind erupted with countless inspirations.

So fists could be used like that?

If combined with fist art, this striking method would be even more devastating and harder to defend against.

Suddenly, countless striking methods surfaced in his mind.

Li Yi was exhilarated. He studied every martial art form with intense focus under Li Shudi’s instruction.

Training time always passed quickly.

The first day ended.

“That’s enough for today. We’ll continue tomorrow,” said Instructor Li Shudi, breathing heavily late into the night.

Even cultivators couldn’t endure nonstop exertion for an entire day.

“Alright, I’ll be here waiting for you tomorrow, Instructor.”

Li Yi nodded. He too felt exhausted after a day of training and decided to stay and sleep at the facility.

But he didn’t waste his evening hours. In his hand, he held the incomplete knife coin, using its abundant cosmic energy to cultivate.

After only a few hours of cultivation, Li Yi’s physical state fully recovered—he was alert and energetic, his body seeming to have evolved slightly, though less noticeably than before. Still, he never skipped daily cultivation. With steady accumulation, he believed he would soon reach the second realm: Spirit Sensing.

On the second day, Li Yi plunged back into the intensive training.

Li Shudi kept his promise, arriving early to teach Li Yi traditional martial arts.

One was eager to learn; the other was eager to teach.

Thus, these past few days, Li Yi lived a full, fulfilling life—each day brought progress, each day brought insight. The fists he practiced were no longer the chaotic, formless strikes of before; they gradually took shape, forming a unique fighting style of his own.

This style wasn’t empty posturing—it was combat-ready. Sometimes, Li Shudi even sparred with Li Yi personally, correcting his flaws.

The collision of fist art and martial arts produced a wondrous chemical reaction.

On the third day, training continued.

On the fourth day, Li Yi had mastered a vast amount of traditional martial arts and no longer needed Li Shudi’s guidance—he began practicing alone.

During this time, Li Yi also took a brief trip home to replace the nutrient solution in his parents’ medical pod and brought some gold nutrient solution to nourish his body. But this visit revealed signs of forced entry on his door lock. After checking the surveillance footage, he found nothing suspicious—this only deepened his resolve to move out soon.

Back at the training base, he resumed training immediately.

Under such relentless training, his progress accelerated rapidly. He transformed the so-called “fist-and-leg routines” into terrifying killing techniques. Combat Art was no longer just an idea—it was gradually taking concrete form.

Through the tireless research of both Li Shudi and Li Yi, on the twelfth day, Combat Art was largely perfected.

Nothing more could be changed. Nothing more could be added.

At least, that was Li Shudi’s own assessment—for Li Yi had truly synthesized the strengths of hundreds of martial arts, grounding them in fist art to forge a unique fighting style of his own.

“Sigh. My level can only guide you this far. Whether you can further refine Combat Art from here on depends entirely on you,” Li Shudi sighed, watching Li Yi, drenched in sweat, relentlessly practicing his fists.

It wasn’t that Combat Art couldn’t be improved further—it was that Li Shudi’s abilities were limited. He simply couldn’t do more.

At this moment, Li Yi moved with agile grace—like a tiger pouncing, like a monkey striking. His punches came like wind, his entire body crackling with explosive energy, resembling a rampaging beast. Anyone who dared approach would be killed instantly.

After a long while, Li Yi finally finished practicing his newly perfected Combat Art. He exhaled deeply, shook his body, and sweat rolled off his skin like raindrops on lotus leaves—strangely, it detached entirely, leaving him completely dry in the blink of an eye.

From traditional martial arts, he had grasped the application of fist power.

“Instructor, don’t worry. As long as I live, I’ll keep refining Combat Art—learning from others, improving myself,” Li Yi’s eyes gleamed with fierce determination.

Li Shudi shook his head. “It’s difficult. No matter how powerful Combat Art is, it’s still a mortal’s technique. Against true supernatural beings, it’s still inadequate. Those beings can summon wind and rain, breathe out thunder. Combat Art has its limits. I believe once you awaken your Spirit Sensing, Combat Art will reach its ceiling. But even so, it’s enough—at least below Spirit Sensing, this Combat Art is unbeatable in close combat.”

He had seen the horror of supernatural beings. Even though he was satisfied with Combat Art, he couldn’t help but speak these words.

Hearing this, Li Yi couldn’t help but recall Yang Yi.

Yang Yi’s right arm gathered biological energy to form an invisible sword, capable of effortlessly tearing through flesh and severing any hard object—terrifying beyond measure.

That ability surpassed imagination—it was no longer within the realm of ordinary cultivators.

“No, Instructor, you’re wrong. If fist art can give birth to Combat Art, then someday, Combat Art itself may become the foundation for another powerful technique,” Li Yi said seriously. “Our world’s cultivation has only just begun. There’s still immense room for progress. We mustn’t limit ourselves.”

“You’re right. The future holds infinite possibilities,” Li Shudi’s eyes brightened, and his confidence returned instantly.