SHING!
With a singular, explosive burst of his newly awakened Sword Intent, the plain iron blade in his right hand erupted with a blinding, white-blue radiance that completely dissolved the surrounding toxic mist.
Ethan swung.
The localized shockwave cleaved the air. The six-ter matriarch didn’t even have ti to shriek before the white-blue arc of pure conceptual sharpness sliced its massive, armored head completely off its shoulders. At the sa ti, the horizontal trajectory continued effortlessly, bisecting the final four-ter elite spider into two identical, leaking halves behind it.
The massive, decapitated torso of the tyrant collapsed heavily into the mud. Ethan calmly reached down, gripping the severed leg still protruding from his abdon, and pulled it cleanly out of his body with a wet SLUCH sound.
As the dark, thick blood spilled from the entrance wound, his monstrous physique imdiately went to work. The flesh, muscles, and internal organs began to visibly knit back together at a visible, unnatural speed, his restricted spiritual energy sealing the gap within monts.
Frad by the colossal, divided carcasses of the valley’s ancient rulers, Ethan stood tall, drenched in green ichor and his own dark blood. He shook his blade clean with a sharp, tallic ring, his terrifying, blood-soaked aura slowly receding as he turned his chilling, majestic gaze back toward the paralyzed, shivering family.
Ethan’s sharp senses locked onto the three paralyzed figures standing on the ridge before they could fully recover from their shock. Recognizing the absolute bewildernt in their eyes, his mind calculated that allowing them to see his divine physique regenerate a mortal wound in seconds would be entirely too unnatural for a simple frontier cultivator.
With a smooth, practiced motion of his hand, Ethan reached into his spatial storage and pulled out two glowing glass vials filled with that sa high-grade translucent crimson healing fluid. He uncorked them with his teeth, drinking one instantly while pouring the contents of the second directly over the torn fabric of his midnight-black suit, letting the bright liquid sizzle against his bloodied skin to stage a recovery.
Since he had used that exact sa potent dicine to instantly stitch Roy’s broken body back together the previous evening, the family’s minds automatically bridged the gap. They let out a collective, ragged breath, rationalizing his terrifying survival as the power of a master’s elite alchemical stock rather than a monstrous, non-human physiology.
Ethan casually sat down at the base of a massive, half-collapsed redwood, leaning his back against the rough bark.
Mary was the first to scramble down the muddy slope, her face pale as she rushed to his side. "Ethan! Oh gods, Ethan, don’t move!" she cried out, her hands hovering nervously over his torn armor, terrified of worsening the injury. Louisa was right behind her, her small hunting dagger entirely forgotten as tears of pure anxiety welled in her eyes, her lower lip trembling violently.
"I am perfectly fine," Ethan murmured, his voice returning to its smooth, calm baritone, though it still carried a faint, residual echo of his bloodthirsty laughter. He offered them a reassuring, relaxed smile. "The venom has been neutralized, and the flesh is already knitting. I rely need to sit here and rest my ridians for a brief mont."
Roy descended the slope slowly, his boots sinking into the erald-stained mud. He stopped a few paces away, his eyes locked onto the massive hole in Ethan’s armor. The boy’s soul was still vibrating from the raw, unadulterated display of power he had just witnessed.
Ethan lifted his piercing purple gaze, locking it directly onto the youth’s eyes.
"Listen to closely, Roy," Ethan commanded softly, his voice carrying a heavy, unforgettable solemnity. "Consider what you saw today as the ultimate lesson I can provide for your path. A true swordsman fights without a single shred of fear. Fear is not an emotion; it is a heavy, invisible chain that binds your ridians, slows your reflexes, and systematically suffocates your absolute potential. The mont you worry about dying, you have already lost your edge. Only absolute internal freedom—the willingness to let your blade cut through reality without hesitation—will ever grant you the power you truly yearn for. Rember that."
Roy felt the words sink like molten iron into his core. He lowered his head in deep, absolute reverence, his hands forming a tight martial fist. "I will carve it into my soul, Master Ethan."
"Good," Ethan replied, slowly closing his eyes as he allowed his restricted spiritual energy to stabilize. "Now, go. Do not let the materials on these tyrants spoil."
The three of them quickly went to work under the heavy, humid canopy. However, the scale of the harvest was far beyond anything they had anticipated. The six-ter matriarch and her elite guardians possessed massive, razor-sharp stingers, mandibles as heavy as iron anvils, and hundreds of kilograms of high-grade, shimring silver silk. The single small wooden sledge they had dragged from the lower path was laughably inadequate.
"We need more transport," Mary directed, her voice tight with focus as she quickly began slicing through the matriarch’s abdon. "Roy, take your katana and clear so heavy branches from those fallen redwoods. Louisa, gather the thickest lianas you can find. We need to construct two more cargo sledges imdiately if we want to haul this fortune back to the Heavenly Sword Pavilion."
For the next twenty minutes, the silence of the clearing was broken only by the rhythmic crunch of butchered chitin, the rustle of leaves, and the hurried footsteps of the family working frantically around Ethan’s resting form. They worked like a well-oiled machine, driven by the knowledge that this single haul would elevate their status forever.
Rustle... rustle...
Suddenly, a series of light, erratic stepping sounds echoed from the thick, misty foliage at the eastern edge of the clearing.
Mary instantly froze, her hands dripping with green ichor as her head snapped toward the sound. Roy’s hand flew back to the hilt of his steel katana, dropping into a low, defensive stance, while Louisa instinctively retreated closer to the trunk where Ethan sat. Soone—or sothing—was rapidly approaching their position through the fog.
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From this mont forward, to avoid confusion regarding cultivation ranks, I will include this footer with the current established levels.
Note: These are only the ranks ntioned so far to avoid spoilers.
Body Refinent Realm
Skin Refinent / Bone Refinent / Organ Refinent
Spiritual Gathering Realm
Spiritual Perception / Spiritual Mist / Spiritual Condensation
Spiritual Core Realm
Core Solidification / Core Awakening / Spiritual Collapse (Half-step Spiritual Core)
Spiritual Soul Realm
Spiritual Soul Awakening / Soul Nourishing / Soul-Core Fusion
Golden Core Realm
Pri Fusion / Core Perfection / Core Destruction
Spiritual Sea Realm
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??
Dao Manifestation Realm
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??
Spiritual Transcendence
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??
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