Chapter 357 - 354: Late Stage of Fourth Grade
Chapter 357: Chapter 354: Late Stage of Fourth Grade
The sun rose and the moon set. Several days passed in the blink of an eye.
On the tenth day of the month, Fang Han sat cross-legged in the Quiet Chamber. He poured out two True Spirit Pills from a Jade Bottle and put them both in his mouth.
The Medicinal Power of the two True Spirit Pills dissolved, transforming into a warm current that surged through his body.
Fang Han activated the Profound Wind Technique, guiding the warm current along his meridians in a Circulation of the Heavens, converting it into Inner Qi.
Time slowly passed.
One hour.
Two hours.
Fang Han was as still as a meditating old monk, his body unmoving. Only the aura around him quietly grew stronger.
Suddenly—
"HUM!"
A faint tremor that only he could perceive emanated from within his Taichong Acupoint.
This acupoint, which had long been approaching Perfection, was now completely filled. Inner Qi brimmed to the point of overflowing, unable to hold any more.
In the next instant, the overflowing Inner Qi spontaneously surged toward the next acupoint—the Zhaohai Acupoint.
However, the moment the Inner Qi touched the Zhaohai Acupoint...
An invisible but incredibly tough barrier suddenly appeared, firmly blocking the rushing Inner Qi.
’The bottleneck to the Late Stage of Fourth Grade!’
Fang Han’s mind was calm, not a trace of panic in him.
This was the moment he had been waiting for.
He didn’t stop. Swallowing two more True Spirit Pills, he activated the Profound Wind Technique, continuously compressing and refining the surging Inner Qi in his body, forging it into sharp "drills."
Following the Profound Wind Technique’s breakthrough Magic Gate, he relentlessly charged at the invisible barrier outside the Zhaohai Acupoint, time and time again.
"BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!"
Each impact made his qi and blood churn, and it also caused the bottleneck’s barrier to tremble slightly and develop faint cracks.
The Medicinal Power of the two newly swallowed True Spirit Pills was being consumed at a frantic rate.
After more than an hour, when nearly half of the Medicinal Power was depleted, Fang Han gathered all the Inner Qi he could muster and launched his most ferocious assault yet.
"CRACK!"
A clear cracking sound, originating from the very depths of his life force, echoed crisply in Fang Han’s perception, like spring ice breaking.
The invisible barrier blocking the Zhaohai Acupoint shattered at the sound!
The vast Inner Qi, which had been building up for a long time, flooded joyfully into the newly opened Zhaohai Acupoint like a torrent from a broken dam.
In an instant, the aura around Fang Han erupted like a volcano, surging madly!
Including the Zhaohai Acupoint, the eighteen now-connected acupoints formed a more complex and efficient system for circulating Inner Qi.
The speed and volume of the Inner Qi’s flow increased sharply. Its color deepened, and its texture grew as viscous as mercury. The sense of power it generated as it circulated far surpassed that of the Middle Stage of Fourth Grade.
A marvelous feeling of being completely reborn, of his life’s very essence taking another leap forward, washed over him.
’Late Stage of Fourth Grade, done!’
Fang Han slowly opened his eyes. A gleam of profound, nearly black-green light swirled in their depths before gradually receding.
He gently clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking sharply. Feeling the increasingly vast and majestic Inner Qi within him, the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but curl up. He was in an excellent mood.
Having reached the Late Stage of Fourth Grade, he was now just one step away from the Upper Three Grades.
It was a step that had blocked countless Martial Artists, preventing them from ever breaking through in their lifetime.
But he believed that with the "Talent" he possessed after his Talent Amplification, this step would be absolutely no obstacle for him.
’The ability of the newly opened Divine Treasure is...’
Fang Han focused his mind inward, and a profound, mysterious understanding flooded his consciousness.
As the Zhaohai Acupoint was opened, a new Divine Treasure was unlocked along with it.
He tried infusing a wisp of Inner Qi into this Divine Treasure.
"HUMMM—"
In that instant, Fang Han felt a strange suction force originate from beneath his feet.
The force wasn’t strong, but it was extremely stable, as if his feet had formed some sort of mystical "adhesion" to the ground beneath them.
He lifted his foot and took a step forward.
As his foot landed, the suction force naturally emerged, allowing him to stand firmly on the ground.
With a flicker of his thought, he walked toward one of the Cultivation Room’s walls. It was built of smooth, flat green bricks.
He took a deep breath, raised his right foot, and gently stepped onto the wall.
"TAP."
With a light sound, the moment the sole of his foot touched the wall, that strange suction force appeared again.
His right foot was actually "stuck" firmly to the vertical wall!
A hint of pleasant surprise flashed in his eyes. He then lifted his left foot and stepped onto it as well.
"TAP."
It also stuck firmly.
Just like that, he was standing on the vertical wall with both feet, as if he were on level ground.
His body leaned forward slightly, parallel to the wall, yet he showed no sign of falling.
The suction force emanating from the soles of his feet was like two invisible hands, holding his feet firmly to the wall’s surface.
’What a marvelous feeling!’
Fang Han marveled inwardly.
He didn’t hurry down, but instead began to walk slowly on the wall.
One step, two steps, three steps...
He was like an anomaly defying the laws of gravity, strolling across the vertical wall as if taking a walk in a courtyard.
At first, he was a bit clumsy, his steps cautious and deliberate.
But after a few steps, he gradually got the hang of it.
The suction force wasn’t constant; he could adjust its strength with a thought.
When he wanted to take a step, he just had to slightly weaken the suction to lift his foot. When his foot landed, he would strengthen it again to adhere firmly.
He walked more and more smoothly, and his speed increased.
In the end, he was practically "running" on the wall, his figure agile, moving as if on level ground.
He went from one wall to another and was even able to walk across the ceiling of the Cultivation Room, hanging upside down beneath the beams.
’With this Divine Treasure, neither city walls nor steep cliffs will be a problem for me in the future.’
Fang Han was extremely satisfied.
He leaped lightly from the wall and landed steadily on the ground.
He looked down at his feet, then up at the wall, a smile lingering on his face for a long time.
This Divine Treasure, although it didn’t increase his Power of Attack, had an auxiliary function that could not be underestimated.
Any treacherous terrain would become as easy to traverse as level ground in the face of this "Gecko Wall-Climbing" ability.
’Breaking through to the Late Stage of Fourth Grade, my strength has soared once again...’
Fang Han stood in the Cultivation Room, a sharp light glinting in his eyes.
Even before this, his true strength had already surpassed his ranking. Now that he had broken through to the Late Stage of Fourth Grade, his actual power would far exceed what his rank suggested.
If anyone tried to deal with him using his Celestial Pride List ranking as a reference, their end would be truly miserable.
...
The clamor of the New Year festivities eventually had to fade into tranquility.
On the twelfth day of the first lunar month, the sky was just beginning to lighten. A thin mist shrouded Liangshui City like a veil of gauze.
Fang Han carried the Cloud Splitting Sword on his back. Over his green robes, he wore a deep cyan, wind-resistant cloak, and his long hair was simply tied up with a Wooden Hairpin.
A small travel bag sat at his feet, containing a few bottles of Elixirs, a change of clothes, and several packs of pastries and dried meat that his parents had insisted on stuffing inside.
Fang Zheng stood before the door with his hands behind his back, his expression solemn, but the reluctance in his eyes was hard to conceal.
Lin Wan held Fang Han’s hand, fussing over him with endless reminders.
Little Fang Ying rubbed her drowsy eyes, hugging Fang Han’s leg tightly and pouting, unwilling to let go.
"Brother, when will you be back?"
"I’ll come back when I have time."
Fang Han crouched down and gently pinched his little sister’s rosy cheeks.
"You have to listen to Mom and Dad while I’m gone."
"Mhm." Fang Ying nodded emphatically, but her eyes were red-rimmed.
Fang Han stood up, his gaze falling on his parents. A thousand words were ultimately reduced to a single sentence: "Dad, Mom, I’m leaving. Take care of yourselves."
"Be careful on the road," Fang Zheng said in a deep voice.
Lin Wan’s eyes were filled with reluctance. She forced a smile. "When you get to the Sect, remember to send a letter back."
Fang Han nodded, saying no more.
He picked up his bag, turned, and strode out of Tingyu Pavilion.
"SWOOSH—"
Upon reaching the Fang Mansion’s main gate, Fang Han activated his Wind and Cloud Escape. His figure transformed into a barely perceptible green shadow, instantly covering several dozen feet.
After a few leaps, he disappeared into the morning mist at the end of the long street.
Behind him, at the entrance to the Fang Mansion, Fang Zheng, Lin Wan, Fang Ying, and other kinsmen like Fang Lingyuan who had rushed over upon hearing the news, stood for a long time, watching his rapidly receding figure.
"SWOOSH!"
On the main road, Fang Han pushed his Body Technique to seventy percent of its capacity, maintaining a speed that was efficient without excessively consuming his Inner Strength.
The scenery on both sides flew backward. The winter fields were desolate, and the withered grass, covered in a thin layer of frost, trembled in the wind.
Occasionally, an early-rising farmer would look up and see only a green shadow flash by. They would rub their eyes, and when they looked again, there was no trace of it, making them think they had imagined it.
Fang Han’s mind was calm. After breaking through to the Late Stage of Fourth Grade, the Inner Qi in his body was far more abundant and condensed. Even after running for a long time, the consumption was much less than before.
Half a day later, Fang Han was still traveling along the main road.
The main road gradually narrowed, flanked by increasingly dense mountain forests with towering ancient trees and hanging vines.
Although it was winter, a thick layer of fallen leaves blanketed the ground, soft and silent underfoot.
He didn’t stop, still maintaining his previous pace as he moved through the forest-lined road.
Suddenly—
Fang Han’s advancing figure came to an abrupt halt, stopping steadily in the middle of the road.
His gaze hardened as he looked ahead.
At the end of the road, leaning lazily against the trunk of an ancient tree so thick it would take several people to encircle it, was a figure who seemed to have been waiting there for a long time.
This person looked to be about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with a tall, thin frame. He wore the unique black robes of a Netherworld Pavilion True Inheritor, patterned with dark silver markings.
The collar and cuffs were embroidered with strange, dark flame patterns in silver thread, which gave off a cold glint in the bleak afternoon sun.
His face could be considered handsome, but it exuded a sinister and ruthless aura.
Most striking were his eyes—his pupils were a dull red, like clotted blood. With every blink, they revealed an undisguised ferocity and cruelty.
His right hand rested casually on his knee, gripping a four-foot-long, dark red saber with a narrow blade and a strange curve.
On the blade’s surface, dark red patterns resembling dried blood scabs could be seen, and a faintly heart-pounding, baleful energy flowed from it.
’Ranked forty-fifth on the Celestial Pride List, Netherworld Pavilion’s True Inheritor, Duan Wuya...’
The moment Fang Han’s eyes fell on this figure, he immediately matched him to a portrait in his mind.
It was a portrait he had seen in the intelligence reports from the Sect’s Tingyu Hall, one belonging to the Netherworld Pavilion’s True Inheritor, Duan Wuya.
Duan Wuya also raised his gaze, his dark red eyes landing on Fang Han, sizing him up like prey that had fallen into a trap.
His gaze held both cruelty and amusement.
"Fang Han."
Duan Wuya spoke, his voice hoarse and low, like sandpaper rubbing together.
"I’ve been waiting for you for a long time."