Chapter 192: The Path of the Split-Sea Black Whale Hammer Choosing Its Master

Hum~

Li Yuan closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he stood beneath the Upside-Down Mountain.

Over these days, he came here every few days, though each time he was driven out, he always managed to intercept a wisp of true qi.

"This hammer has too much temper."

Boom!

The familiar vibration sounded again; Li Yuan assumed he'd be expelled once more, but the trembling lasted long—he still stood where he was.

"Has its temper cooled?"

Li Yuan's eyes lit up, and he hurried forward.

On the stone tablet at the mountain's base, countless characters flowed like water—words he had once seen atop the peak.

It was the second step of the Daoist Tianyun Daoist Tianyun Xuanbing's choice of master.

The rule was simple: defeat all whose names were inscribed on the tablet, then climb again.

Li Yuan looked up and saw, on the two-thousand-step staircase, faint glimmers of colored light interweaving; figures sculpted from true qi slowly materialized.

"Still have to fight through."

Li Yuan shook his head inwardly, carefully observing the figure before him, slowly formed from true qi.

Even though it wasn't his first time seeing it, his heart still trembled slightly.

Amidst the interwoven true qi, sinews, bones, skin, flesh, even blood were meticulously rendered—not merely lifelike.

The anatomical diagrams he'd seen in his past life weren't this direct or clear.

This mastery and application of true qi had reached a level far beyond his reach.

Oo~

Soon, on the first step, a true qi-formed swordsman appeared, about one meter seventy-eight tall, entirely azure, wielding a sword also forged from true qi.

"Yi Xing."

Li Yuan glanced at the tablet, where characters flashed: "Xin Xin Wenhua, Yi Xing Swordsman."

"All the guardians' martial cultivation realms match mine. Hmm, acceptable—could even use this to polish my Wu Gong."

Li Yuan carefully studied the rules on the tablet, reached out, and with a thought, a long-handle heavy hammer identical to the Chen Shan Zhong appeared in his hand.

Made of true qi, yet the feel and weight were utterly real.

"A divine art indeed."

Li Yuan hefted the hammer, took a step forward, blocked the rushing swordsman with ease, then swung backhand—shattering him into fragments.

This true qi body matched his own, possessing all physical advantages; this swordsman, confined to the first step, couldn't possibly stop him.

Hum~

The swordsman shattered into specks of light, which, under Li Yuan's gaze, flowed into his own true qi body.

He narrowed his eyes slightly—tiny insights into sword techniques surfaced in his mind.

"There's this benefit too?"

Li Yuan paused inwardly, his restlessness fading; he looked at the countless figures on the two-thousand steps and suddenly felt it wasn't entirely unacceptable.

"Hmm, acceptable."

Master Li nodded inwardly—he had to admit he was a worldly man; once he saw the benefit, his motivation surged.

Oooh~

Li Yuan moved like the wind, the long-handle heavy hammer spinning fluidly in his grasp as he unleashed every martial art he knew.

He had learned many martial arts, many hammer techniques, but mostly trained alone—he rarely fought others.

At first, he resisted the climb, but gradually he became immersed in it.

Footwork, body movement, hammer techniques…

He combined and experimented with all kinds of martial arts.

Endless Yi Xing-level martial artists as sparring partners—even the Bianshidao Sect's true disciples didn't get this treatment.

Bang!

Li Yuan shifted his stance, raised his arm like an elephant swinging its trunk, and shattered the rushing knife-wielder on the spot.

That was the Ancient Elephant Six Forms Hammer.

With so many Yi Xing sparring partners, it was perfect for training; after many battles, he found his martial progress far faster than solitary practice.

Especially this Ancient Elephant Six Forms Hammer—he was beginning to achieve a hint of mastery.

Huh!

After twenty or thirty battles, Li Yuan was panting: "Even fatigue feels this real—this hammer can manipulate true qi to this extent?"

Looking up at the mountain's peak, Li Yuan's expression turned solemn.

The higher he climbed, the farther he felt from the Split-Sea Black Whale Hammer; the rank of this Daoist Tianyun Daoist Tianyun Xuanbing was unimaginably high.

"Old Han, with just that Red Flame Dragon Scale Armor, could stand against a Bone Refining master—that armor was only seventh rank… Eleventh rank…"

Li Yuan leaned on his hammer, rested for a long while, then began climbing again.

But slowly, he no longer chased speed—he became lost in battle, immersed in the constant improvement of his martial arts.

Bang!

He didn't know how much time had passed; Li Yuan was gasping, his hand gripping the hammer trembling.

Of the two-thousand steps of the Upside-Down Mountain, the higher he went, the more experts he faced; from the first few steps, where one strike sufficed, by the three-hundredth step, he often needed dozens of moves.

"Climbed eight hundred steps, fought ninety-six times…"

Li Yuan glanced at the latter half of the path, his heart easing slightly; he slowly withdrew—after nearly a hundred battles, he was truly drained.

Hum!

In the room, Li Yuan had just opened his eyes when he closed them again, feeling threads of true qi spreading through his body, his insides churning like a storm-tossed sea.

He forced himself to circulate his internal strength and blood to restore balance, yet his sinews and bones still cracked with a "crackling" sound.

This time, the reverse flow of true qi was more violent than ever before—more than ten times worse.

"The form of the Black Whale!"

Li Yuan stood firm with his hammer raised, gritting his teeth as he sensed the shadow of the Black Whale rising in his heart; alongside the true qi came a jumble of chaotic techniques.

Sword arts, knife arts, footwork, hammer arts…

Memories of the Hanging Mountain's hundred battles surged into his mind—fragments of moves used by the masters forged from those true qi, disordered and scattered, needing careful sorting to digest and absorb.

"Huh!"

After a long while, Li Yuan exhaled slowly, opening his eyes with renewed vigor—it was already high noon.

He washed up and arrived at the tavern to find Fang Fang Bao Luo already ordered a full table of wine and dishes.

"I stayed up late last night."

Li Yuan sat down.

Last night he had been lost in the Hanging Mountain and forgot the time.

"The escort team left early this morning."

Fang Fang Bao Luo made no complaint, only poured Li Yuan a cup of wine: "Since there's only a few days left, let's get two fast horses—it'll be easier."

"I'll follow your advice, Senior Brother."

Li Yuan nodded.

"Come to think of it, it's good we got out in time—I've felt someone sneaking around behind us these past few days. Might be trouble."

Fang Fang Bao Luo lowered his voice.

Unlike Li Yuan, who ignored the world outside, he had been cautious all along—even though the escort team seemed harmless.

And he'd actually found something.

"Covert escort?"

Li Yuan's gaze flickered with caution: "Could they be after us?"

Since the Divine Weapon Valley's mass relocation, rewards for every Divine Weapon Valley disciple had skyrocketed across every assassin guild.

"Unlikely."

Fang Fang Bao Luo shook his head.

The emergence of Daoist Tianyun Daoist Tianyun Xuanbing shook the martial world; Zhe Long Mansion is in chaos. Right now, aside from a few houses, no one cares about the Divine Weapon Valley anymore.

"Then it has nothing to do with us."

Li Yuan didn't press further—he'd merely hitched a ride. Whether they did covert or open escort was none of his concern.

"Sigh. All this trouble is because of Daoist Tianyun Daoist Tianyun Xuanbing. I only hope it calms down soon."

Fang Fang Bao Luo sighed. Seeing Zhe Long Mansion descend into chaos, he felt genuine sorrow.

This was the ancestral homeland of the Divine Weapon Valley—its foundation, its home.

"I heard the Longhu Temple people have arrived. It should be soon, right?"

Li Yuan offered comfort, though he too felt uneasy inside.

What if those people discover Daoist Tianyun Daoist Tianyun Xuanbing isn't there…

…

…

Zhe Long Fucheng.

The Divine Weapon Valley's mass relocation seemed to have no effect on Fucheng—at least on the surface, all trades remained as prosperous as ever.

"That old bastard Master Gongyang Yu really has guts!"

On the sixth floor of a tavern, Meng Zhan stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the bustling district, his face cold.

That day in the Divine Weapon Valley's tunnel, he had briefly left for some reason; when he returned, all traces of people were gone—only corpses remained.

Undercurrents churned in the Cold Pool; Master Master Baili Lei Jingchuan and the others had vanished without a trace.

"Master."

A Wutang disciple hurried over and whispered: "Yan Yan Qingyuan has arrived."

"Yan Yan Qingyuan?"

Meng Zhan's gaze darkened slightly.

Yan Yan Qingyuan, one of the Eight True Disciples of the Huai Long Palace, wielded the unique Yan Demon Blade Art and was likely to become the next Young Master of Huai Long Palace.

"Lead the way."

Meng Zhan turned and followed the disciple to the city gate, where many factions and martial figures from inside and outside Zhe Long Mansion had gathered.

There, a purple carriage slowly approached across a wooden bridge, pulled by four jiao horses, all identical in color, each standing twelve feet tall at the shoulder, magnificent and noble.

"Stop."

The gray-clad driver nodded slightly and pulled the jiao horses to a halt.

A handsome middle-aged man in black brocade embroidered with gold, a long blade at his waist, stepped down from the carriage. He glanced around and spoke coolly:

"Where is Meng Zhan?"

Among those greeting at the gate, Meng Zhan stepped forward quickly and bowed slightly: "Meng Zhan greets Young Master Yan."

"Hmm."

Yan Yan Qingyuan gave a slight nod, signaling him to come closer. Meng Zhan frowned slightly—he disliked this man's attitude—but walked forward quickly.

"You are the only one among the first group to enter the Divine Weapon Valley tunnel who remains here."

Yan Yan Qingyuan glanced at him coldly: "Speak."

His tone was neither high nor low, yet it was utterly imperious, and Meng Zhan felt a chill in his heart, but he still obediently recounted the whole story from beginning to end.

From the encirclement and suppression of Sanyuanwu at the Divine Weapon Valley, to the Thousand Spirits Sacrificial Rite, to the slaughter in the underground passage, and then to the disappearance of everyone.

"I've heard people say that the Shan Xuan Bing Mi Jing once appeared in the world?"

Yan Yan Qingyuan suddenly cut him off.

"This… it's hard to say."

Meng Zhan shook his head slightly: "Those few days, Meng happened to have matters to attend to and was away. Although I heard about it, I did not see it with my own eyes…"

"Happened to be away?"

Yan Yan Qingyuan frowned slightly. He looked toward the old man driving the carriage, and the grey-clothed old man bowed slightly, then said:

"To answer the Young Master, the first batch to enter the underground passage — Lord Master Gongyang Yu, Han Han Chuijun, Jing Jing Shuhu and others — all vanished without a trace. They should have fled toward Dechang Prefecture.

The palace has already sent out letters to summon them; I imagine there should be results within a few days."

"Mm."

Yan Yan Qingyuan nodded, did not enter the city, and turned to walk toward the mountain gate of the Divine Weapon Valley.

The group of people waiting at the city gate all hurried to follow, and only Meng Zhan, after a slight frown, retreated back into the city.

"Wu Gong is ordinary, but putting on airs is quite the specialty!"

At this moment, someone in the crowd muttered, drawing the cold, sharp gaze of Yan Qingmo: "And who might you be?"

In the crowd, a sturdy youth twirled a lock of hair by his temple and snorted lightly: "Dragon Tiger Temple, Yu Yu Xuanfeng."