Chapter Thirty-Nine: Advanced Arcane Combat Technique—Shattering Fist

Three days had passed since Lu Zhe and Old Ye left Old Six’s house. In these three days, Lu Zhe had accompanied Old Ye, eating and sleeping under the open sky. Old Ye never said where they were headed, and Lu Zhe never asked.

At this moment, Lu Zhe and Old Ye were resting at a waystation. Lu Zhe was devouring his food in great mouthfuls, while in front of Old Ye sat only a cup of tea, untouched since it had been placed there.

Watching Lu Zhe eat ravenously, Old Ye said calmly, “Eat slowly. Have some more.”

Lu Zhe mumbled an indistinct response and continued eating.

After sweeping the table clean like a storm, Lu Zhe drank some water and nodded. Old Ye looked at him and asked mildly, “Are you full?”

Lu Zhe nodded as he drank.

Old Ye called for the innkeeper’s assistant, who hurried over, asking, “What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

Old Ye drew a gleaming gold coin from his waist and placed it on the table. “Settle the bill. Keep the change.”

The assistant’s eyes nearly popped out. He looked at Old Ye as he stood, showering him with gratitude, “Safe travels, sirs! Please come again!”

Old Ye said nothing more and walked out with Lu Zhe, heading into the mountains.

Shortly after they left, a man who had been sitting near them at the inn glanced in their direction, called over the assistant, dropped a few copper coins, and hurried off down another road to get ahead of Old Ye and Lu Zhe.

The two of them strolled along the mountain path. Suddenly, Old Ye, who was walking ahead, asked, “Zhe, do you know of something in this world called ‘arcane arts’?”

Lu Zhe shook his head.

Old Ye smiled lightly. “Arcane arts are special skills that harness spiritual power. As I’ve said before, everything in this world has its different levels, and arcane arts are no exception.” He paused, then continued, “Arcane arts are divided into four tiers: Heaven, Earth, Profound, and True. Each tier is further split into high, middle, and low grades. They are not only for battle but also for healing, support, and escape.”

“What determines their level?” Lu Zhe asked, intrigued.

“It depends on their effect. Heaven-tier arts are said to have world-shattering power, while True-tier arts are usually just for strengthening the body,” Old Ye explained.

“So, how does one obtain them?” Lu Zhe asked eagerly.

“Most arts circulating in the markets are True or Profound tier. Deeper arts, like those of the Earth tier, are found only in the most powerful sects or academies.” Old Ye smiled as he spoke.

“Oh,” Lu Zhe nodded thoughtfully.

“There are no absolutes in this world. If you wish to obtain advanced arcane arts, aside from joining a sect or academy, there’s one more way,” Old Ye went on as they walked.

“What is it?” Lu Zhe asked urgently.

“Buy them on the black market. Most things on the black market are valuable, but their origins are dubious. They can’t be openly sold, or they’d bring disaster,” Old Ye replied coolly.

“Where can one find the black market?” Lu Zhe pressed.

“Every nation has one, some large, some small. But the largest black market on the Divine Xia Continent is probably the lawless ‘Black Triangle.’”

Lu Zhe nodded, then asked, “Master, have you been to the Black Triangle?”

Old Ye paused, then said, “I’ve been there before. That place is ruthless—if you wish to survive, you rely on strength alone. Law? Justice? Peace? Reputation? Integrity? Those are worthless there. Only the strongest rule.”

Lu Zhe was startled, then asked, “So according to you, the highest level there is Spirit Lord or Spirit Venerable?”

“No,” Old Ye replied firmly. Seeing Lu Zhe’s astonishment, he explained, “There are Spirit Lords among the top factions, usually sect leaders and the like. Spirit Venerables, however, rarely go there; if they do, they keep their strength hidden. You must understand, in a lawless place like that, even if you’re a Spirit Venerable, if you can’t be beaten head-on, they’ll resort to underhanded means. No matter how powerful, you’re still human, and humans can make mistakes. To die there would be a disgrace. Besides, those who reach Spirit Venerable cherish their lives dearly; it’s not easy to reach such a level, only to be killed by a sneak attack—it would be too tragic and unworthy of their status.”

Suddenly, Old Ye turned to Lu Zhe and said, “One day, I’ll let you see it for yourself.”

Lu Zhe was startled. “So what level must I reach before I can go?”

“Anyone can go, regardless of their level. But the outcome is different. Low-level people rarely return; high-level ones come and go freely. If your level is too high, you must hide your strength,” Old Ye explained.

“Master, there’s something I’ve never understood.” Lu Zhe suddenly stopped and looked at Old Ye, shaking his head.

“What is it?” Old Ye stopped as well.

“You just said only the strong have a say there, but also that those of high rank must hide their strength. Isn’t that a contradiction?” Lu Zhe asked, watching Old Ye and waiting for his answer.

Old Ye smiled. “It sounds contradictory, but think about it—where there are no laws, the stronger you are, the more power you have. But if you’re a Spirit Venerable and don’t hide your identity, the various powerful factions will do anything to keep you. If they can’t, they’d rather see you dead than let you fall into rival hands. The influence of a Spirit Venerable in battle is unimaginable.”

Lu Zhe nodded in sudden understanding.

Old Ye smiled faintly and started walking again, while Lu Zhe’s admiration for him grew deeper.

Suddenly, Old Ye glanced at Lu Zhe, then touched the ring on his little finger. The ring emitted a green glow, and a long, fiery-red scroll appeared in Old Ye’s right hand.

He tossed the scroll to Lu Zhe. “This is the first arcane art I’ll teach you—Collapse Fist.”

Lu Zhe quickly examined the scroll. Sure enough, on the fiery-red cover were two bold characters: Collapse Fist.

Unable to contain his excitement, Lu Zhe unrolled the scroll. The first line, written in large vertical characters, read: “Collapse Fist, High-Grade Profound-Tier Combat Arcane Art.”

Lu Zhe inhaled sharply, marveling at his master’s generosity in teaching him such a powerful art as his very first.

He continued reading, seeing the explanation: “Collapse Fist. Concentrate your spiritual power into a point in your body and strike swiftly. When close to the opponent, unleash the power in a burst for tremendous explosive force to injure the enemy. Mastery allows you to punch holes through foes. The forms are countless, but the recoil may harm the user. Only those with great physical strength or earth-attribute spiritual power should practice it—otherwise, you’ll injure yourself before hurting your enemy.”

Lu Zhe rolled the scroll further and found a list of techniques: Direct Collapse, Elbow Collapse, Lateral Collapse, Inch Collapse, Knee Collapse, and so forth.

What attracted him most was the last line: “Ultimate mastery—injure enemies at a distance.”

Lu Zhe read through the techniques with relish, when suddenly Old Ye’s voice pulled him from his reverie.

“Don’t think about its power yet—look at how it’s practiced first.”

Lu Zhe glanced at the training method and immediately felt dizzy. “One needs great strength, and must be a Spirit Master? I don’t even know my own spiritual attribute,” he muttered.

He looked at his own body. Though muscular, he doubted he met the scroll’s definition of “great strength.”

Old Ye, as if reading his thoughts, patted him and smiled. “Don’t worry, leave it to me. Even if you were a Spirit Master, you might not have the earth attribute, so we’ll take the first path.”

Lu Zhe felt a chill down his spine.

Suddenly, he asked, “Master, how powerful is this technique?”

Old Ye was about to answer, but seemed to sense something and fell silent.

At that moment, Lu Zhe noticed Old Ye’s brows knit together as he turned his head, as if looking for something. Before Lu Zhe could ask, Old Ye said coolly, “Friends of the Greenwoods, since you’re here, you might as well come out.”

No sooner had he spoken than a dozen figures flashed out ahead, swiftly blocking the path a few yards before Lu Zhe and Old Ye.

Lu Zhe saw they were all burly men, each wielding gleaming weapons. The leader, a bearded man, addressed Old Ye, “We only want money. Hand it over and you’ll be safe. But if you hold back even a little, then…” He shook his heavy broadsword, which looked fearsome but seemed light in his grip.

“You’re a Spirit Master,” Old Ye observed calmly.

The man paused, then looked Old Ye up and down. “You’ve got a good eye. I’m a Five-Star Spirit Master. Be smart and hand over the money.”

Old Ye glanced over the group and noticed a familiar face among them—the man who’d been sitting near them at the inn.

He turned to Lu Zhe. “Didn’t you want to see the power of Collapse Fist? I’ll show you.”

With that, he faced the bandits, touched his green ring, and a cloth bag several feet tall appeared in his hand. He opened it, grabbed a fistful of gold coins, and, seeing the bandits’ eyes glaze over, said, “I have plenty of money. The question is, do you have the skill to take it?”

He tossed the coin pouch into the air, drove his green bamboo staff into the ground, and, with a sweep of his sleeve, charged the bandits at lightning speed.

Before they could react, Old Ye was upon them. His right hand clenched into a fist, emerald spiritual energy swirling around it, and struck a burly man square in the chest.

“Direct Collapse!” Old Ye shouted, his fist slamming into the man’s chest.

A thunderous crack resounded. Blood spurted from the man’s mouth as he was hurled backward, his chest a mangled mess.

Without pausing, Old Ye moved to another man, his right elbow glowing green, slamming into the man’s abdomen with a gust of wind.

“Elbow Collapse!” Old Ye roared, his elbow smashing into the man’s midsection.

Another crack, and the second man, like the first, was sent flying, his waist and abdomen bloodied and torn.

Old Ye continued with Lateral Collapse, Inch Collapse, Knee Collapse, and more. What fascinated Lu Zhe most was Inch Collapse: Old Ye’s right hand glowed intensely, then struck a man’s chest with rapid force. At first, nothing seemed to happen—the man was stunned—until, with a burst of power at a mere inch’s distance, Old Ye sent him flying.

Crash after crash resounded as Old Ye unleashed Collapse Fist, in moments leaving all the bandits bloodied and broken, save for the leading Five-Star Spirit Master.

Old Ye ignored him, quickly returned to his original spot, caught the coin pouch he’d tossed into the sky with his bloodstained hand. From the moment he’d thrown the pouch to catching it, less than five seconds had passed—a testament to his terrifying strength.

The bandits who had moments before been lively and brash were now strewn across the ground, most already dead, the few survivors barely clinging to life.

With a howl, the leader turned and fled.

Lu Zhe saw this and urged, “Master, he’s getting away!”

Old Ye wiped the blood from his hand. “I know.”

Lu Zhe protested, “You know and still let him go? Aren’t you afraid he’ll continue to harm people?”

Old Ye glanced at him. “Are you curious about the final move of Collapse Fist, injuring from a distance?”

Lu Zhe nodded.

Old Ye looked calmly at the fleeing man, clenched his fist as green light surged, then thrust his hand forward, pointing at the escaping bandit.

The green light detached from Old Ye’s fist, shooting straight at the fleeing man and striking him instantly.

As the green light hit, Old Ye opened his hand. The man froze, then, with a thunderous boom, was blown to pieces.

“That is injuring at a distance,” Old Ye said quietly, not looking back as he strode ahead.

Lu Zhe stared after him, dumbstruck. “Injuring at a distance? More like killing at a distance…” He glanced at the Collapse Fist scroll in his hand, took a deep breath, and hurried after Old Ye.