"He escaped into the forest..." Chen Zhigang frowned, clearly displeased that Chen Dazhong, a fourth-level Qi Blood Realm martial artist, had allowed a second-level practitioner to slip away. "Never mind. A mere second-level Qi Blood Realm martial artist venturing deep into the Wind Howl Forest is as good as dead."
Chen Zhigang knew that even he wouldn't fare well venturing deeper into the Wind Howl Forest.
"Brother Gang, this Ferocious Tiger was encountered by my elder brother in the Wind Howl Forest. It was because of this beast that Chen Zong managed to escape, but my brother killed it. We're giving it to you as a gift," Chen Dalei said, handing Chen Zhigang a tiger leg.
"Excellent, excellent! Ferocious Tigers have become increasingly rare in recent years," Chen Zhigang exclaimed with excitement, accepting the leg. His eyes gleamed. "With this, I can further refine and strengthen my blood qi!"
Chen Zong had thoroughly cleaned the forest cabin, leaving it much tidier.
Outside, after finishing his Tiger Force Fist Technique practice, he began his sword training.
The dim forest light obscured the dull, mottled iron sword, making it difficult to see any reflection as he swung it.
He practiced the True Sword Eight Forms repeatedly, growing more proficient with each repetition.
After several rounds, his stomach began to rumble. Chen Zong walked to the stream, his gaze fixed on a plump, glistening fish. Sword in hand, he stilled his breath until it was barely perceptible, then suddenly thrust the blade into the water.
To his surprise, the fish reacted with lightning speed. The moment the sword touched the water, it flicked its tail and darted away, leaving Chen Zong's strike empty.
"I refuse to give up," Chen Zong muttered stubbornly. He vowed to catch a fish with his sword, no matter how long it took.
He adjusted his stance and lunged again and again. Finally, when his stomach was nearly cramping from hunger, he managed to skewer a fish. He quickly retrieved the flint he had brought from home, ignited some dry leaves, and butchered the plump, five- or six-pound fish before placing it on a spit over the fire to roast.
Soon, golden fish oil dripped and sizzled, releasing a rich, mouthwatering aroma. Sprinkling spices he had brought from home over the fish, Chen Zong's hunger intensified. His stomach growled incessantly, the savory scent driving him wild with anticipation.
Ignoring the scalding heat, Chen Zong took a bite of the roasted fish, puffing out his cheeks with satisfaction. Before long, the entire five-pound fish had vanished into his stomach.
After resting for half an hour, he rose and resumed practicing the Tiger Force Fist Technique, repeating the routine ten times.
"I feel like my Tiger Force Fist Technique has reached the peak of Grand Mastery, ready to break through to Perfection," he murmured, lowering his head in contemplation. "But what's still missing?"
He hadn't brought the Descending Mountain Tiger Scroll with him, but its image was deeply etched in his mind. Closing his eyes, he vividly recalled the painting.
The scroll had sparked many insights, but they remained scattered fragments, never coalescing into a coherent understanding. He couldn't grasp the crucial breakthrough.
Suddenly, the image of the Ferocious Tiger he had recently witnessed flashed through his mind—its cold, domineering eyes. An inexplicable sense of dread washed over him, chilling him to the bone.
The real tiger's presence merged with the tiger depicted in the scroll. In that instant, a spark ignited, shattering his mental shackles. The scattered insights aligned into a single thread of comprehension. Inspired, Chen Zong opened his eyes, a brilliant light blazing within them. He stretched his limbs and assumed the Tiger Stance.
With a subtle adjustment, Chen Zong gradually emanated a ferocious tiger-like aura that permeated the air. A large gray rabbit, emerging from a tree hollow nearby, sensed this overwhelming pressure and suddenly froze, trembling violently as it cowered into a motionless ball of fur, resembling a giant meatball. It was as if the king of beasts, a ferocious tiger, stood before it.
The fish in the stream scattered in panic, fleeing to deeper waters.
After maintaining the Tiger Stance for ten minutes, Chen Zong exploded into motion, unleashing a thunderous punch. The terrifying aura accompanying his fist surged forward, the wind howling like a roaring tiger. The cowering rabbit convulsed violently, foaming at the mouth as its limbs splayed outward—it had been scared to death on the spot.
As Chen Zong completed a full cycle of the Tiger Force Fist Technique, the final Tiger Fury Stance radiated astonishing power and intensity, far surpassing his previous efforts. His heart pounded, his blood surged, and he felt his strength rapidly escalating.
"This feeling is incredible!" Chen Zong exclaimed excitedly. "Achieving Perfection in the Tiger Force Fist Technique has propelled my cultivation base to the peak of the second layer of the Qi Blood Realm, just one step away from the third layer. This alone is equivalent to at least three or four months of ordinary cultivation!"
"The Perfection Realm of the Tiger Force Fist Technique is the Tiger Stance—the ability to exude the ferocious presence of a tiger, capable of intimidating opponents."
"The creator of this fist technique was truly remarkable."
The Ferocious Tiger's strength stems not only from its raw power but also from its regal presence as the king of beasts.
"Each advancement in martial arts cultivation slightly enhances my qi and blood. If I can master the True Sword Eight Forms to a minor mastery level before the Martial Apprentice Battle, I might have a chance to break through to the third layer of the Qi Blood Realm."
"But before that, I need to consolidate my recent breakthrough in the Tiger Force Fist Technique."
At the Perfection Realm, the Tiger Force Fist Technique engages seventy percent of the body's muscles, surpassing the entry-level True Sword Eight Forms. With each repetition, Chen Zong could feel his qi and blood surging through his veins, growing steadily stronger.
After thirty consecutive repetitions of the Tiger Force Fist Technique, Chen Zong's limbs grew weak and his stomach rumbled loudly. He retrieved the large gray rabbit he had scared to death, cleaned and butchered it, and roasted it over the fire.
The rabbit weighed over ten pounds—enough for two hearty meals.
After eating and resting, Chen Zong reviewed the key principles of the True Sword Eight Forms before resuming his training.
Practicing his fist techniques, swordsmanship, eating, and sleeping—this was Chen Zong's daily routine in his secluded forest cabin.
The tranquility allowed him to fully immerse himself in cultivation, free from distractions. Every day, he could feel himself progressing.
As another night passed, Chen Zong emerged from the cabin. His first task was to draw his sword and carve a tenth mark into the nearby tree trunk, signifying his tenth day in this place.
After a quick wash, he went to the stream and fixed his gaze on a fish, waiting for the opportune moment. He gathered his strength, unleashed his power, and thrust his sword. The blade sliced through the air with a faint whistle, pierced the water, and impaled the large fish, lifting it out of the stream.
Martial artists required prodigious appetites, especially someone like Chen Zong, who dedicated every waking moment to cultivation, burning vast amounts of energy.
From dawn to dusk, he consumed six meals, each consisting of at least five pounds of fish or rabbit meat—his staple diet. Occasionally, he managed to supplement his diet with snake meat.
Consuming dozens of pounds of meat daily, his body absorbed the nutrients through intense training. This nourished his blood and qi, fortifying his physique and steadily increasing his strength. Yet his physical power remained stuck at three hundred pounds—a stubborn bottleneck that only a breakthrough could overcome.
Having reached the Perfection Realm in the Tiger Force Fist Technique, Chen Zong no longer needed to contemplate how to break through. He practiced the technique ten times each morning and evening, dedicating the rest of his time to the True Sword Eight Forms. The Tiger Force Fist Technique trained certain muscle groups that the sword forms did not, and combining both methods ensured a more comprehensive physical development.
Chen Zong also discovered that spearing fish with his sword provided valuable supplementary practice for the True Sword Eight Forms.
"Father always said that swordsmanship requires speed, precision, and stability—none can be lacking. Sheer speed is useless if the strike misses its mark."
"I couldn't consistently spear fish before because my precision and stability were insufficient. After ten days of practice, both have improved significantly, but there's still room for growth."
"Besides spearing fish, perhaps I should try other methods to refine my speed, precision, and stability."
After a moment's thought, Chen Zong retrieved a thumb-thick, straight branch and planted it firmly in the ground. He stood before it, his eyes fixed on the branch, gathering his focus and building momentum.
He raised his sword and swung it down.
The blade missed the branch entirely, landing far to the side.
"So far off!" Chen Zong exclaimed in disbelief. He had thought his sword skills were already quite precise and steady.
"Again."
He focused intently, gathered his momentum, raised his sword, and swung down.
Day after day, Chen Zong practiced relentlessly.
Day Eleven!
Day Twelve!
Day Thirteen!
Day Fourteen!
Day Fifteen!
After completing another twenty repetitions of the True Sword Eight Forms, Chen Zong approached a straight tree branch as thin as a chopstick. He raised his sword and struck, cleaving the branch cleanly in two with a single, precise stroke.
"Good, my accuracy has improved significantly," Chen Zong said with a satisfied smile.
Striving for perfection, he replaced the chopstick-thin branch with an even thinner one.
Another day dawned. Chen Zong drew his sword and carved another mark into the tree trunk.
"Four days until the Martial Apprentice Battle," he muttered to himself, gazing at the twenty notches etched into the wood.
Walking to the stream, he spotted a large fish. With a casual flick of his wrist, he thrust his sword into the water. The blade flashed, piercing the surface with lightning speed, then flicked upward, impaling the fish on its tip.
After eating, Chen Zong drew his sword and resumed practicing the True Sword Eight Forms.
One repetition, two, three... By the ninth repetition, he reached the final stance: the Exploding Sword Stance!
He channeled all his strength into the blade, unleashing a sudden burst of power. The sword vibrated violently against the air, its polished surface emitting a dazzling light as it sliced through the dim forest.
"The blade is glowing—this must be minor mastery!" Chen Zong exclaimed, momentarily stunned before erupting in joy.
It had taken him five days to grasp the basics of the True Sword Eight Forms. He had expected it would take at least a month to achieve minor mastery. Yet, thanks to uninterrupted training combined with his fishing and branch-splitting exercises, he had reached this milestone in just fifteen days.
"Good, it seems my training methods are indeed effective!" Chen Zong exclaimed, his elation growing. The True Sword Eight Forms had been imparted by the mysterious sword tip, but the spearfishing and branch-splitting techniques were his own inventions. Perhaps similar methods already existed, but no one had taught them to him; they were entirely the result of his own hard work.
What could compare to the thrill of creating something from nothing through one's own efforts and witnessing progress?
At that moment, Chen Zong felt his blood qi surging like a mighty river, ceaselessly scouring his body. As it flowed, his physique underwent a profound transformation. The energy from the dozens of pounds of beast meat he consumed daily, previously dormant within him, was now being drawn forth by the surging blood qi. It coursed through his limbs and bones, gradually strengthening his muscles, bones, and skin.
"This feeling... my cultivation base is about to break through!"
He swiftly assumed the Hidden Sword Stance and began practicing the True Sword Eight Forms once more, using the sword techniques to refine the surging power within him and accelerate his breakthrough.
After several repetitions of the True Sword Eight Forms, an even greater force erupted from the depths of his body, permeating every fiber of his being. His muscles tensed, giving him an overwhelming sense of strength and ferocity.
"Hahaha! Qi Blood Realm, Third Layer—I've finally reached it!" Chen Zong couldn't contain his triumphant laughter. "At the Martial Apprentice Battle, I'm guaranteed a spot in the top three! Chen Zhigang, Chen Dazhong, it's time to settle our score!"
"Still, the Martial Apprentice Battle is a few days away. I can use this time to improve even further."