Chapter 2: Swordlight

“Why do you want to learn martial arts?”

With time still left before class, Fang Xing gazed at Xia Long and slipped into his usual daydream, recalling the scene from their first martial arts lesson.

Back then, it was Xia Long standing in the exact same spot, his voice thunderous:

“Because you’re all reserve soldiers—you’ll one day face the cultists of the Dark Gods on the battlefield and fight to the death… Learning martial arts is about staying alive!”

“Remember this, and train hard! Train like your life depends on it!! Only then might you survive!”

“Your births doom you to lack the resources needed to pursue careers like mech pilots or mind masters… Martial arts require the least investment and offer the highest potential return—it’s your best path to evolution!”

“I expect each of you to reach at least the Second Realm of Martial Arts before graduation, and master one A-rank martial art—otherwise, stepping onto the battlefield means certain death, no exceptions!”

That bloody, brutal truth instantly dragged Fang Xing into reality.

Now, the current Xia Long began his lecture: “The Dark God cultists mostly possess spiritual corruption—even the lowest-ranking servants emit psychic shocks… Early on, the Federation’s fleets and mech pilots suffered heavy losses; their insane asylums were overwhelmed… But later, we discovered that after human martial evolution, the ‘Martial Will’ generated can resist this kind of spiritual pollution… Though it’s difficult to expect you to enter the ‘Courage Realm’ by adulthood and gain even a sliver of Yijing power, the Federation has developed many martial arts that use hypnosis to grant low-rank practitioners nearly identical power—this is the origin of A-rank martial arts…”

Fang Xing listened below, his teeth aching.

Martial arts—the so-called most resource-efficient, highest-yield evolutionary path in the Blue Star Federation—was in truth a cannon-fodder route!

There were many ways to resist the cultists’ spiritual corruption, but whether it was alchemist’s potions, mind master’s mental talismans, psychic armor, or specially modified mechs, none were within the reach of someone burdened like himself.

For bio-engineered humans like him, there was only one path: learn martial arts, then go to the frontlines and swing blades against the cultists!

If you survive for years, you might still earn a chance to retire alive.

Of course, the Federation hadn’t completely sealed off all exits for bio-engineered humans.

After all, bio-engineered humans weren’t vastly different from natural humans—they too held infinite potential.

Once, Fang Xing sat here, aiming to pass university entrance exams to defer his conscription.

According to Federation law, successfully entering university granted a scholarship and deferred conscription until after graduation!

It was said many of the Federation’s ‘Martial Saints’ and ‘Martial Gods’ had taken this very path.

‘Going to university…’

‘It’s hard. Extremely hard! Even Xia Long subconsciously believes none of us will become college students… After all, one of the basic requirements for university admission is reaching the Third Realm of Martial Arts—Puyu—before high school graduation!’

The Three Realms of Martial Arts: First Realm ‘Skin and Flesh’, Second Realm ‘Tendons and Bones’, Third Realm ‘Puyu’!

Those who reach Puyu Realm reverse their primordial nature—their five viscera merge into one harmonious qi, automatically repairing all hidden injuries, achieving perfect internal-external circulation, and living disease-free to age 120!

Fang Xing sighed inwardly, then watched Xia Long’s movements ahead.

The man now assumed a stance, his spine trembling like a great dragon.

“Today’s lesson: hold the ‘Great Dragon Stance’ for thirty minutes, then follow me in the Twelve Forms of Military Boxing…”

“The Great Dragon Stance needs no explanation—it’s the best stance for refining skin and flesh in the First Realm. After countless simulations by the Federation’s supreme AI, ‘The Omniscient Brain,’ it has been perfected—training every inch of your skin and muscle without omission… Don’t stand rigidly; move your body while moving your intent—imagine your torso as a great dragon, your spine its backbone, limbs its claws… Never exceed one hour daily. If you can afford it, buy ‘D3-grade Nutrient Fluid’ from the store…”

Xia Long explained in detail, yet sighed inwardly—a single cheapest ‘D3-grade Nutrient Fluid’ cost 5,000 Star Credits; most bio-engineered students couldn’t afford it long-term.

But there was no alternative—the Federation’s resources were limited, and martial arts were already the cheapest, most accessible evolutionary path.

Without clear talent, neither the school nor he himself would invest.

Breathe… In…

Fang Xing calmed his mind, assumed the Great Dragon Stance, and immediately felt familiarity—as if he’d practiced this stance for a long time.

He unconsciously slowed his breath, visualizing a towering great dragon; his spinal bones began trembling slightly.

In this state, he felt his skin ripple—tingling, itching… strange sensations surged; his muscles grew warm.

‘Hold on! Hold on!’

Rarely had he crossed over—yet here he was, touching such transcendent power. Fang Xing gritted his teeth and held on.

After an unknown duration, he suddenly felt total exhaustion; his vision darkened—a sensation of hitting his absolute limit flooded his body.

Like a runner collapsing mid-sprint, his body could summon not a single ounce of strength…

‘Is this the limit? Am I about to pass out? Will I be carried off to the infirmary? That’d be so humiliating…’

At that moment, as Fang Xing’s consciousness blurred, he seemed to return to that night of binge-reading novels.

Before his eyes, a blade of light appeared—a single slash where countless worlds were born and died…

‘Is this… the scene from when I crossed over?’

‘Why do I feel it’s a sword, not a knife, or some other radiance?’

‘Under that blade’s light… was something terrifying suppressed?’

Fang Xing had no time to ponder further—he saw the blade’s light descend, splitting into two orbs: one red, one white.

The two orbs chased each other, like two fish, or a red-and-white Taiji diagram.

Suddenly!

BOOM!!!

The red and white light collided—terrible radiance annihilated everything!

The red-and-white Taiji shattered—then… a faint glow appeared before him:

【Name: Fang Xing】

【Age: 16】

【Occupation: Martial Artist】

A simple interface. When Fang Xing’s consciousness focused on ‘Martial Artist,’ additional sub-fields opened:

【First Realm: Skin and Flesh (Skin Refinement: 21/100)】

【Twelve Forms of Military Boxing: 55/100 (Beginner)】

【Great Dragon Stance: 67/100 (Beginner)】

…

‘What is this? A game interface? My golden finger? It seems linked to the vision I saw during my crossing…’

Fang Xing’s mind stirred—and suddenly, insights into the ‘Great Dragon Stance’ flooded him. He felt renewed strength surge through his limbs and bones, like a parched channel suddenly filled with fresh water, preventing him from collapsing.

‘Ah… I inherited the original’s memories and muscle reflexes completely, but my execution still differed—mind knew, hands knew, but they weren’t synchronized—the skill had degraded…’

‘But now, with this stat panel, I’ve achieved permanent mastery—proficiency only increases, never regresses…’

‘Only now do I truly possess everything the original had—even his martial skills…’

‘If only I could allocate points…’

Fang Xing grew greedy, but searched everywhere—no point-allocation option appeared. He had to let it go.

“Alright, thirty minutes are up.”

Moments later, Xia Long gave the order. Students collapsed with relief; Liu Wei lay on the ground, drenched in sweat, gasping for air.

Fang Xing was fine—only his legs felt slightly weak, not enough to fall.

“Hey, Xing, your stance’s gotten stronger. You’ve been secretly training extra at home, right?”

Liu Wei, seeing his fellow struggler still standing, teased.

“This is my normal level!”

Fang Xing replied, breath ragged—yet added silently: ‘…but it’s Fang Xing’s peak moment.’

Human states fluctuate—but with this stat panel locking his condition, his state is always at peak!

To Liu Wei, it looked like Fang Xing had improved again.

“Heh, your stance is a bit better than mine, but next up, you might not be so lucky.” Liu Wei grinned, rising.

Xia Long bellowed: “Don’t lie down! You’re in perfect condition—stand up and train! Military Boxing, First Form: Bow Stance Cannon Fist!”

Fang Xing’s spine arched like a bow, tendons taut as strings; his right hand clenched, knuckles cracking sharply. He imagined his body as a great bow, launching his fist like an arrow.

BAM!

The punch sent a muffled boom through the air—startling Liu Wei beside him.

“Xing, how… how did you get this strong?”

Xia Long noticed several students producing punch sounds; his expression softened slightly: “Good… Ancient manuals say, ‘A thousand gold can’t buy one sound.’ Those who produce this sound were Mingjin martial artists in ancient times—ten-man fighters! But it’s not enough! Far from enough!”

“Why is this first form called ‘Cannon Fist’? The bow stance is just the entry. Imagining your body as a bow is only the beginning—you must now imagine yourself as a cannon, igniting your blood and qi with ‘Heartfire,’ launching your fist like a cannonball!”

As he spoke, Xia Long struck a punch.

BOOM!

The same ‘Bow Stance Cannon Fist’—yet the air exploded as if a cannonball had detonated. Fang Xing felt his eardrums ache, his heart pressured, his chest tight: ‘That punch… must be twenty years of cultivation… I couldn’t block it…’

Xia Long retracted his fist: “When you can produce a true ‘Cannon Sound,’ worth ten thousand gold for one blast, you’ll have reached minor mastery. The key lies in ‘Heartfire’—use your mind as the engine to circulate blood and qi…”

As he spoke, he stepped behind a student and casually pressed a palm to his back.

The student’s face flushed crimson; he swung a punch—no cannon sound, but the knuckle crack was noticeably louder.

‘This kind of “teaching by example” beats any projection… But it seems only students who produce a sound get this treatment…’

As Fang Xing pondered, Xia Long arrived behind him, five fingers pressing his spine: “Punch!”

Instantly, his chest burned—as if gunpowder had ignited, desperate for release.

“Hah!”

Fang Xing grunted, threw a punch, then nearly collapsed.

“Good. Next time, pay attention to your footwork…”

Xia Long gave a brief pointer and moved toward a female student.

Fang Xing sat on the floor, gasping heavily—yet inside, he was thrilled.

He focused his awareness on the stat panel, finding the Military Boxing sub-field.

【Twelve Forms of Military Boxing: 56/100 (Beginner)】

“Proficiency increased by one point?”

“If I do this a few dozen more times, will I fully master the Beginner stage and advance?”

But if I do this dozens of times, my body won't hold up...

Feeling the ache in his arm, Fang Xing silently shook his head.

Suddenly, his gaze sharpened.

At the very bottom of the attribute panel, a new and strange symbol appeared.

The rune seemed formed from twisted lines, faintly taking the shape of a mirror.

When his awareness settled upon it, a new line of text surfaced:

【Gate of All Realms: 1/100 (Capturing)】