Ch. 610 - Hard Training

When Xu Zimo woke from his death-like consciousness, he realized he had gained a much deeper understanding of the blade.

He had thought he already mastered the art of the blade, but now he saw there was still much to learn on this path.

“Heaven Derivation Blade,” Xu Zimo squinted and smiled faintly. “If the heavens are merciless and the world is full of suffering, then I’ll forge a merciless blade.”

The inheritance process was quick. After receiving it, Xu Zimo returned to his courtyard.

“Young master,” the two guards greeted him, standing tall.

“Do you remember the young man you beat up a while ago?” Xu Zimo asked.

“We remember,” they both nodded.

The yellow-robed youth had his tongue pulled out and legs broken before Xu Zimo entered seclusion.

“I expect someone will come to settle that score soon. What are you going to do?” Xu Zimo asked again.

“Didn’t you give us the order?” The two guards were startled and glanced at each other, worried they might be used as scapegoats.

“If you don’t want to die, do exactly as I say,” Xu Zimo said.

They quickly nodded.

…

The moon was faint, stars were sparse.

Late at night, Xu Zimo was cultivating the techniques he had learned that day.

Heaven Derivation Blade required deep comprehension. The more insight one had, the more powerful it became. Without that, the technique would be weak.

Xu Zimo’s true body returned to the True Fate World and began training under the support of the Heavenly Dao from the God World.

Dao is the fundamental, irreplaceable force of a world, its core essence.

With its help, Xu Zimo’s comprehension and training speed increased drastically.

A Speck In The Vast Sea, a high-level water-based technique, was among the best in its category.

As the saying goes, life is but a speck in the vast sea. Some people live a simple life, others are as vast and brilliant as the stars.

Like a single grain of sand drifting in a sea of countless others, never seeing the sun.

But if that grain can rise to the skies, even something small can stir up massive waves and upheaval.

This technique was about using the small to overcome the great. With just one point of leverage, it could shake the world.

Although these were high-level techniques, Xu Zimo had already reached the God King realm.

What truly caught his attention was Six Cuts of Ghost Zen.

At the beginning of this technique, there was a strange poem:

Thousands of monks and Buddhas die in blood,

The creator of this technique was the Ghost Tathagata, who had been slain by the Nine Heavens Sect’s founder, the Nine Heavens Sage.

The technique was passed down ever since.

It contained six moves:

Law Without Cause, Fallen Spirit, Seal of Slaughter, Heavenly Burial, Slaughter Form, and Ghostly Compassion.

While training it, ghostly shadows would appear. A bloody aura surged into Xu Zimo’s mind as if to consume his consciousness.

These ghostly images were like the resentments of countless beings, attacking his body and mind.

The six moves corresponded to the six human senses: Sight, Hearing, Smell, Taste, Touch, and Consciousness.

To use this technique, one must sever these six senses, condemning the target to an eternal, inescapable death in the underworld.

To even begin learning Six Cuts of Ghost Zen, Xu Zimo had to walk the edge of death himself.

That’s when he realized: mastering this technique required Buddhist artifacts to suppress the evil spirits.

Only by suppressing the spirits and preserving the six senses could one survive the technique.

But Xu Zimo possessed the Heavenly Dao, and under its power, the ghosts were like ants, completely suppressed.

What force in this world could suppress more than the Heavenly Dao itself?

The Heavenly Dao is a part of the world, it is the world.

Xu Zimo didn’t just want to learn Six Cuts of Ghost Zen, he wanted to combine it with his blade techniques.

He wanted to create the Ghost Zen Blade.

Creating new martial arts wasn’t new to him. In his past life, he had created techniques like the Nineteen Forms of Dao-Seeking.

Now, with both experience and the Heavenly Dao, it was far easier.

…

After three days of intense training, Xu Zimo slowly opened his eyes.

Outside, only one night had passed. The sky was gloomy and overcast, clouds gathering as if ready to rain.

As he opened his eyes, ghostly images swirled around him, forming a faint ghostly domain.

To better merge the Ghost Zen technique with his blade, Xu Zimo even ventured into the hell of the God World.

He visited the Eighteen Levels of Hell, built by the Slaughter God, and spent a full day there, experiencing, sensing, and understanding.

Early the next morning, Jiang Changsheng arrived outside Xu Zimo’s courtyard.

Xu Zimo had summoned him, and he didn’t dare disobey. He had no choice but to show up.

Meanwhile, over on the eastern side outside Grand Heaven Mountain, atop Jade Heaven Mountain.

The peak was surrounded by numerous mountains, homes to many powerful figures.

On one of the peaks, mist drifted, and cranes cried.

Inside a sealed cave, loud booms echoed out as powerful blade energy burst forth.

Stones rolled down from the peak, clearly a powerful force was building.

Then, with a thunderous boom, a blade light split the entire mountain peak in half.

The blade light shot into the sky, shattering the very space above.

A gold-robed figure burst from the seal, flying through the air with unmatched blade intent.

“Congratulations, Senior Brother, on completing your closed-door training! Your martial path has advanced!” disciples in yellow robes stepped forward to greet him.

The man had short hair, thick eyebrows, and eyes sharp as blades. His pupils were vertical like a predator’s.

A massive broadsword was strapped to his back, nearly as wide as his entire body.

He landed on the mountaintop and waved the disciples to quiet down.

He asked softly, “While I was in seclusion, did anything major happen?”

“Rest assured, Senior Brother, we took care of everything,” one disciple replied quickly.

“Good. Where’s Qing’er?” the golden-robed man asked again.

Just as he spoke, a soft voice came from behind.

“Master Shen.”

The disciples quickly moved aside, revealing Qing’er, a graceful young woman standing at the back, looking forward expectantly.

“Qing’er,” the golden-robed man, Shen Lang, called out as he stepped forward.

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