202: Chapter 185: 800 Xuanfeng!_2 202: Chapter 185: 800 Xuanfeng!_2 Right, I rember at the ti of my previous life, my last conscious thought was inside the “Divine Emperor” ga.
Within the Cloud Realm, the Seven Emperors competed for dominance.
Alone with a sword, I fought against a multitude of heroes.
But in the last monts, my body suddenly felt a surge of electricity, and I lost all consciousness.
When I woke up again, I had switched to another body.
Everything before my eyes was no longer that familiar world.
So, at this mont, am I in the ga or am I truly in an era 13,000 years ago?
My mind once again dizzy, Zong Shou simply let go of everything and stopped thinking.
In this carriage where I had nothing to do, Zong Shou then took out a Green Steel Sword about three feet long and began practicing swordsmanship in this relatively spacious carriage chamber.
His footsteps moved forward and backward, turning and shifting in coordination with his body, making the sword light shine within the confines of the not-too-large, not-too-small carriage.
Just like in his previous life, every sword form, every movent, was precise to the extre, almost perfect.
However, this basic swordsmanship exercise lasted only half a mont before Zong Shou was already gasping for breath, his whole body drenched in cold sweat.
And the light of the sword slightly lost its shape.
It was only by clinging to his innate, unyielding belief that he forced himself to continue without collapsing.
Not until all the strength in his body was completely drained did Zong Shou stop the sword light, panting as he sat on the bed.
When that highly focused attention finally dispersed, instantly, he felt all his muscles and bones, his limbs and internal organs, every part of him were in pain as if they were being scorched by fire.
This was not rely out of boredom but stemd from pure unease.
This world and the state of his own body both gave him a profound sense of crisis and urgency.
He was desperate to gain so strength, at least enough to protect his own life.
In his previous life, for the sake of that ga, he had cultivated and studied all the foundations of a Martial Artist to the level that could be considered a grandmaster’s realm.
In the entire Cloud Realm, there were no more than a thousand such achievers.
He had already mastered the sword principles and variations.
What he needed to do now was to make this body rember them, to turn them into instinct.
But this body of his was just too frail.
It could only withstand an ordinary workout for the duration of a cup of tea, and its physical strength wasn’t even half that of an average person.
What was even more frustrating was that he simply couldn’t cultivate the Basic Internal Skill.
It’s not that Zong Shou’s body was truly weak.
In terms of strength, agility, and quickness, he could even surpass an ordinary person.
Even his root bone and Five Elents Spirit Root could be considered first-rate talents.
It was just the physical strength that was unusually weak for so reason.
However, after groping around for seven days, Zong Shou had so clues.
It must be due to the bloodline within his body; being a Half-demon, a mix of Human and Fox Clan, gave him such a handso face and resulted in such a feeble constitution.
Besides, if I’m not mistaken, whether it’s my father’s or mother’s lineage, both should be extraordinary.
“The character of this Human Clan bloodline is still unclear.
But this demon clan lineage is clearly that of a Seven-tailed Heavenly Fox.
In the entire Cloud Realm, there are perhaps no more than a hundred with this bloodline!
If one side could overpower the other, that would be fine, but it’s a deadlock.
In this Cloud Realm, no matter the era, nearly everyone practices Martial Arts, even juveniles often have one ridian open.
An inconspicuous person might possess remarkable Martial Arts.
With a body like mine, that has not a trace of Inner Strength, it’s truly rare—”
Lying on the soft bed, the thoughts that Zong Shou had forcibly suppressed in his mind started to surge forth again.
Almost subconsciously, in his thoughts, he recalled the mysterious Demon Language from the depths of his mory.
This Indeterminate Spirit Emperor Technique in my mory cos with a set of Indeterminate Killing Fist and Fish and Dragon Cloud Transformation, all of which can be called Martial Arts Techniques of Absolute Skill.
But the phrase “Indeterminate Spirit Emperor,” Zong Shou always felt he had heard it sowhere before, yet he couldn’t recall where.
“Top-level Absolute Skill, yet paired with a set of Fist Technique and a movent technique.
Possessing two High Order bloodlines, my identity is definitely not ordinary; I’m afraid it truly belongs to so noble descendant of the Cloud Realm.
Could it be that Zong Shou is a noble son with the surna Zong from the now extinct Heavenly Fox Clan?
This na, too, feels strangely familiar.
Right, there are also those two servants—”
Thinking of the two who had been traveling with him for the past seven days, but were currently away, Zong Shou couldn’t help feeling dizzy again.
Given the extraordinariness of those two, the highness of ‘my’ status is probably far beyond his imagination.
And when the world of that ga beca reality, and I found myself placed within it, Zong Shou found it even more unbelievable.
As he was suffering from a headache, there was suddenly a whistling sound from outside the carriage.
Zong Shou raised an eyebrow and turned to look out of the window.
He saw a woman in a colorful skirt approaching with great leaps and bounds.
Though on foot, her speed was even faster than the sixteen horned horses pulling the carriage.
And in her slender and graceful hands, she was even holding a large beast’s corpse!
Seeing Zong Shou looking out from the carriage, the woman imdiately raised her head and smiled sweetly.
Her features were beautiful, charming like a painting, and on each side behind her ears, there were a pair of extrely cute white cat ears—the one of his two servants who had been by his side since he woke up in this world, Su Chuxue.
Following behind her was a burly Great Han.
He was the coachman of this carriage, nad Yiin Yang, standing nine feet tall with muscles coiling around his body as if forged from steel.
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