Volume One: First Signs of Brilliance Chapter Eighty-Two: Severing the Heavens

Sensing Wang Jue’s gaze, Sun Shan, who lay soaked in blood, his face drained of all color, pleaded weakly, “Please, save me. I don’t want to die! I can’t die yet…” He still dreamed of becoming a warrior, of rising above others. He could not die, would not die, and least of all did he wish to die! His heart was filled with unwillingness—no, it was terror at losing everything he once possessed. Yet, even as he looked at Wang Jue, a flicker of hatred flashed through his eyes.

Did he hate Wang Jue? Of course he did! Sun Shan hated Wang Jue for not saving him earlier, hated his refusal to let him go, hated him for destroying everything he had.

The constant waves of agony and the sensation of his flesh being torn apart jolted Sun Shan back to reality. Fearing Wang Jue might see through him, and more afraid of losing his only chance at survival, he hurriedly promised, “Brother, as long as you save me, I swear I’ll never trouble you again.”

“Still daring to threaten me on the brink of death?” Standing amidst a field of bloody corpses, Wang Jue looked down at Sun Shan, his gaze cold and indifferent.

In the next instant, Wang Jue’s sword swept out, and a head flew high into the air.

Sun Shan died with his eyes open, unable to rest in peace.

Exhaling slowly, Wang Jue felt not a shred of guilt as he gazed at Sun Shan’s lifeless body. Instead, he was calm, murmuring, “At last, all the trouble is dealt with. Now for the spoils of war.”

Surveying the dozen or so blood wolf carcasses he had slaughtered—some cut clean in half, others dismembered—he saw that the pelts were mostly ruined, many limbs damaged, but their claws and fangs remained intact. Reasoning that even the tiniest mosquito is still meat, Wang Jue quickly dissected the blood wolves, harvesting a decent bounty.

His only frustration was that his bag could not hold all the spoils. He had to stash them nearby, intending to return to the place where the blood wolves had surrounded that ill-fated squad and claim the loot of the annihilated team.

After all, those people were dead; what once belonged to them now belonged to him.

Following the memories in his mind, Wang Jue soon returned to the scene. There, the previous dead had already become a dozen or so blood-stained skeletons. Besides the bones, seven or eight blood wolf corpses remained. What truly caught Wang Jue’s eye, though, were several overflowing sacks not far from the bones.

Perhaps due to the battle, some of the bags were torn, and the ground was strewn with blood wolf pelts, limbs, claws, and fangs. Wang Jue lost no time, gathered all the loot into bundles, and brought it home.

He changed into clean clothes, then contacted Monkey.

After arranging a meeting place with Monkey, Wang Jue picked up the sacks of spoils and left home.

Under the curious gazes of passersby, Wang Jue quickly arrived at the agreed spot, spotting Monkey from afar.

Seeing Wang Jue bring such a haul, Monkey couldn’t help but be surprised and joked, “Junior Brother Wang, you’ve done well for yourself. Looks like you joined an adventurer squad, huh?”

It was hard not to assume Wang Jue had a team behind him, given this loot. Monkey knew Wang Jue’s abilities well—he couldn’t have managed all this alone.

Wang Jue had been pondering how to explain himself, but Monkey’s comment solved the problem for him. Smiling, he said, “Hehe, Senior Monkey, why don’t you see how much all this is worth?”

At Wang Jue’s words, Monkey stopped talking and began to examine the materials from the blood wolves.

After a while, having counted everything, Monkey named a price, “Junior Brother Wang, it’s two million, seven hundred fifty-four thousand in total. I’ll round it up for you—two million, seven hundred sixty thousand. Cash or transfer?”

“Hmm, transfer please.” Wang Jue narrowed his eyes, and, as if casually, asked, “Senior, do you know about spirit herbs?”

“You have spirit herbs on hand?” Monkey’s eyes lit up.

Wang Jue remained calm, answering indirectly, “So, do you know about them?”

“I know a bit about that.” Monkey collected himself, giving Wang Jue a penetrating look as if he could no longer see through his junior. “Spirit herbs are valued by grade and age. For example, a first-grade spirit herb’s price varies—some are tens of thousands, some a hundred thousand, several hundred thousand, even millions. The older and rarer, the more valuable.

“But, Junior Brother, let me give you some advice: if you have spirit herbs, don’t sell them. Use them yourself—spirit herbs often help warriors break through bottlenecks. The older the herb, the more effective it is.”

“They can help with breakthroughs?” Wang Jue murmured in disappointment.

He felt he had advanced too quickly lately. Until he consolidated his cultivation, further breakthrough would be impossible. Whether spirit herbs could help, Wang Jue wasn’t sure. But after the battle at Blood Wolf Valley, he knew what he needed was not more power, but star source points to upgrade his talent.

As long as his talent improved, his cultivation would naturally follow. There was no need to waste the spirit herb. Besides, if he consumed it and it did nothing, wouldn’t that be a waste?

Perhaps he spoke too softly, or Monkey didn’t catch his words, mistaking his musings for a question about the spirit herb’s value. “What did you say, Junior Brother?”

“Nothing. I haven’t visited the martial hall in days—was thinking of going by.” Wang Jue shook his head. “If you’re busy, Senior, go ahead. I’ll be off now.”

“Wait, Junior Brother.” As Wang Jue turned to leave, Monkey called him back, pressing a card into his hand and whispering, “If you really want to sell the spirit herb, try this address. If anyone asks, say I sent you—no one will cheat you.”

“Thank you, Senior,” Wang Jue replied with genuine gratitude.

“Oh, no need for thanks—we’re brothers here,” Monkey said carelessly, then added, “Honestly, I have high hopes for your adventurer squad. I’ll be counting on your business in the future.”

“No problem,” Wang Jue replied readily.

After a few more words, Monkey left with all the materials Wang Jue had brought. Wang Jue himself headed to the Jidao Martial Hall.

Half an hour later.

As soon as Wang Jue stepped into the hall, he could hear Zhao Qingming’s exasperated scolding from afar.

“How many times have I told you? No matter what martial art, you have to practice ceaselessly! With your ‘three days fishing, two days drying nets’ approach, you’ll never master it in this lifetime!”

The one being yelled at was the hall’s eldest disciple, Wang Bin. Judging by his surname, he and Wang Jue might be related, but who could say for sure—perhaps they shared an ancestor centuries ago, but now there was no meaningful connection.

At that moment, Wang Bin hung his head, voice low, “Teacher, I practice the basic sword technique daily, but the more I practice, the harder it gets. I just can’t grasp the essence.”

Zhao Qingming shook his head helplessly. About to say more, he spotted Wang Jue, who hadn’t come in days, and quickly waved him over. “Wang Jue, perfect timing. Come demonstrate the basic sword technique for me. Let’s see if you’ve been slacking lately. The rest of you, watch closely!”

In an instant, all eyes turned to Wang Jue—whether they were sword trainees or not, every disciple watched.

Under the gaze of a dozen people, Wang Jue’s expression remained calm. He walked to the rack, took down a wooden sword, and moved to the center. There, he began to perform the technique, move by move, deliberately suppressing his true strength, showing only a level just shy of perfection.

Even so, the essence of the basic sword technique could not be concealed.

“Not bad! All of you, observe his movements carefully. When the force passes into the sword, your center of gravity does not shift with it! Tighten your chest and abdomen, let power follow the downward cut, and keep your lower stance steady!”

Zhao Qingming nodded repeatedly. “Yes, just like that. Wang Jue hasn’t been here as long as some of you, but his insight into the basic sword technique surpasses yours. Learn to think for yourselves.”

When Wang Jue finished, Zhao Qingming approached with a gentle smile. “Well done. Go practice on your own—I’ll find you in a bit.”

Hearing this, Wang Jue retreated to a corner, pretending to practice while actually checking his status panel.

Name: Wang Jue
Cultivation: Body Tempering, Level 8
Talent: Red Grade (Superior) 0/500
Technique: Star Soul Art, Stage One (Unknown) 0/1000
Martial Skill: Basic Sword Technique (Master 0/1,000,000)
Martial Skill: Basic Fist Technique (Master 0/1,000,000)
Footwork: Basic Footwork (Master 0/1,000,000)
Star Source: 228
Experience: 12,312

From this Blood Wolf Valley trip, Wang Jue’s greatest gain was not the 2.76 million cash, nor the spirit herb, but the star source points! As for experience, it was less than what he could pick up in a single martial association training hall, so he ignored it altogether.

He was quite interested in “fleecing the sheep”—gathering resources where he could. He originally planned to drop by the hall, then head to the martial association to farm some more resources, and check out the virtual combat room. Having survived Blood Wolf Valley, he wanted to see if he could now defeat a simulated version of himself.

If Zhao Qingming hadn’t kept him there, Wang Jue would have rushed to the martial association’s virtual combat room to spend a few hours fighting his own copy.

Just then, Zhao Qingming walked over and led Wang Jue into his private courtyard. “As I’ve told you before, our Jidao Martial Hall is renowned for swordsmanship. Though our basic sword technique is an improved version, far superior to the generic ones sold outside, it’s only meant to lay a foundation here.”

“I see your foundation is solid. It’s time to teach you the sword technique our hall is truly famous for.”

“Our signature sword technique?” Wang Jue’s eyes flashed with excitement.

Taking the wooden sword from him, Zhao Qingming assumed a stance as he explained, “Today, I will teach you a single move, called ‘Heaven Severing’.”

With that, Zhao Qingming slashed out with his sword. A fierce gale howled, swirling dust in the courtyard like wildfire driven by a storm.

A thunderous boom resounded in the courtyard, the sound carrying even to the training grounds beyond…