Chapter Three: The Blue Light String

Ling Mist Mountain was shrouded in clouds and fog all year round.

Lei Xiang had been sitting there in silence for three days. In those three days, he had only drunk water five times and eaten dry rations once. The rest of his time was spent in meditation, honing his skills.

In a few days, the annual grand competition would take place. If he wanted to turn his fortunes around—not only to teach Lei Xiaowu a lesson, but also to challenge Lei Yunlong—Lei Xiang knew he had no certainty at all against that genius of Lei Fortress. That was why he trained day and night, striving to break through the seventh level.

If he could reach the seventh level of Qi Refinement and, with his physique transformed by lightning tempering, possess a body as strong as someone at the eleventh level of Body Refinement, he would finally have a chance to face Lei Yunlong.

The spiritual fruit within him had long since been absorbed. Without the power of that fruit, breaking through further would be exceedingly difficult. Lei Xiang shifted his attention to the irregular blue sphere in his Qi Sea. Drawing upon the lingering memories in this body, he determined that this olive-shaped object was a fragment of the Black Python’s inner core—akin to an unformed Golden Core for human cultivators—whose contained energy might be enough for his breakthrough.

Lei Xiang dredged through memories of martial manuals from his past life, skillfully merging their cultivation techniques and insights for his own training. He was aware that the cultivation method described in the Divine Dragon Elephant Art contained certain biases and, in some places, even misleading approaches.

According to the manual, after circulating energy for one cycle, one should infuse spiritual power into every limb and bone, enhancing physical resistance and limb strength—purely methods of body refinement.

Suddenly, a doubt arose in his mind: “How strange this Lei Fortress is! No one seems eager to advance their level; instead, everyone trains daily just to strengthen their bodies. The techniques are riddled with obvious flaws—even I can see them. Does Old Master Lei really not notice? Ah, never mind, as long as I don’t make mistakes myself.”

He continued to focus on controlling the inner threads of spiritual energy, increasing their number and strength. Only when both quantity and quality saturated could they gather in the dantian and undergo a qualitative change, finally condensing into liquid form—thus laying the Foundation.

The Divine Dragon Elephant Art described three tiers of body refinement: the beginner stage involved long-distance runs and waterfall impacts; the intermediate, volcanoes, floods, and avalanches; the advanced, lightning strikes, tsunamis, and spatial rupture. This body, having survived the lightning tribulation while rescuing the White Python, had endured the highest level of tempering.

That was Lei Xiang’s greatest fortune.

Mist wreathed the mountain peak, just as spiritual threads wound through Lei Xiang’s body. With his inner gaze, he saw over four hundred threads of spiritual energy, each as thick as a toothpick.

With each circulation, Lei Xiang tried to control them, making them linger in the Qi Sea and wrap around the Black Python’s core fragment, slowly corroding and absorbing it, then wandering through the meridians—repeating this process cycle after cycle.

After three days of effort, Lei Xiang was delighted to discover that the olive-sized core fragment was now covered in fine cracks. This boosted his confidence greatly, and he urged his power on, greedily wrapping the fragment with his spiritual threads.

A faint “crack”—the fragment finally split open, releasing an astonishing burst of spiritual energy that immediately swept away all surrounding energy threads, rampaging through his meridians.

Fortunately, the earlier lightning tempering had expanded his meridians, and his strong will allowed him to absorb wildly. Otherwise, such violent energy would have caused his body to explode.

Even so, Lei Xiang felt as if a herd of wild beasts was trampling and pounding through his eight extraordinary meridians, threatening to shatter them—pain more intense than the lightning strike itself.

He knew this was the result of the core fragment dissolving, its energy running amok. Gritting his teeth through the agony, Lei Xiang controlled his spiritual threads, chasing after the “beasts” and absorbing all they could.

Three hours later, the pain had lessened considerably. With his inner vision, Lei Xiang was overjoyed to find his spiritual threads had increased to over seven hundred, each pure and lustrous as if sated after a grand feast—a sign of reaching the peak of the sixth level.

The Black Python’s core fragment in his dantian was now only the size of a broad bean.

Lei Xiang quickly manipulated the spiritual threads, gathering them into a ball the size of an egg in his dantian. Using this ball to drive the remaining energy through his meridians, he cycled again and again. Only when every last thread of energy had been absorbed did Lei Xiang finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Adopting a rhythm of three exhales, one inhale, he expelled as much turbid air as possible, purifying his body once more.

With three consecutive “pffts,” Lei Xiang let out the last of the foul air, feeling refreshed and clear-headed. He knew he had successfully broken through to the seventh level.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Lei Xiang did not rest. Instead, he took out a jade slip, pressed it to his forehead, and let his mind slowly sink into it.

Time waits for no one.

Simply reaching the seventh level of Qi Refinement was useless without practical spells. This jade slip contained the Divine Dragon Elephant Art of Lei Fortress, including some basic combat techniques.

Withdrawing his mind, Lei Xiang cursed the author of the slip in his heart, “What a lousy manual—only the most basic spells, like children’s tricks. Clearly, I’ll need to find a better cultivation manual, or I’ll never reach Foundation Establishment.”

Complaints aside, he still had to learn. Lei Xiang selected several basic spells to practice.

The mountain wind was biting.

Now, atop the peak stood a youth, his right hand outstretched, fingers long and strong. His thumb curled in, the other four fingers pressed tightly together with barely a gap. Chanting an incantation under his breath, he suddenly swung his hand like a blade—a sharp, crescent-shaped blue light blade shot forth.

The light blade circled a towering ancient tree a dozen paces away. After one round, the tree—so thick that five or six men together could barely encircle it—crashed to the ground.

The youth pointed and shouted, “Go!” The blue light blade did not stop but flew straight toward the spring before him. With a “pop,” the calm surface was split, water spraying a yard high on both sides.

He approached and examined the cut in the giant tree, grinning to reveal his small tiger teeth.

This youth was Lei Xiang. The technique he’d just unleashed was derived from the basic “Hand Blade Art,” but he’d improved it and named it the Blue Light Spiral.

Using his experience as a sniper, Lei Xiang had amended the original spell, which allowed only a single strike, enabling more precise control over direction, force, and range—making multiple consecutive attacks possible.

Lei Xiang glanced wearily at the sky. After fourteen sleepless days of training atop Ling Mist Mountain, the annual Lei Fortress competition was upon him. He had already mastered Fireball, Ice Spike, Shifting, and Windrider spells from the Divine Dragon Elephant Art, and with his innovative Blue Light Spiral, he was more than prepared for the contest.

Suddenly, blue light flashed fiercely in his eyes as he looked toward a certain direction.

Moments later, a foul wind swept in, and with a whoosh, a giant hound leapt out. This beast was nearly thirty feet long, its mouth bared four fangs. With a thunderous bark, its pale blue eyes fixed on Lei Xiang and charged.

Facing the ferocious hound, Lei Xiang merely grinned, showing his small tiger teeth. “Ha! Come, let me practice!” He pressed his right-hand fingers to his leg and shouted, “Swift!” Empowered by the Windrider spell, his body floated more than six yards into the air, evading the beast’s savage lunge.

The giant hound missed and barked furiously, spinning and raising its massive tail, slamming it straight at Lei Xiang.

Lei Xiang glided five or six yards away, raised his right hand, and, murmuring a complex incantation, conjured a clear droplet on his fingertip.

A flick of his wrist sent the droplet flying at the hound. Midair, it solidified and crystallized into a one-inch-long ice spike, hurtling toward the hound’s skull.

But this was no ordinary beast—it opened its mouth and spat a cloud of black mist, completely enveloping the ice spike.

“Demonic beast?”

Lei Xiang realized this was no mere dog but a beast skilled in magic. Ordinary means would not suffice. Searching his memory of books from his former life, he finally identified it.

Oil Fortune Beast!

This was a first-level lower-tier demonic beast—huge yet agile and cunning, adept at spitting black smoke with powerful polluting effects. This one was already mature, possessing intelligence comparable to a fifth- or sixth-level Qi Refiner.

The black mist dissolved the ice spike completely. With another roar, the Oil Fortune Beast unleashed a gale at Lei Xiang, the black cloud pressing down like a grinding stone.

Lei Xiang twisted aside, dodging the wind, but the beast, baring its fangs, rushed straight at him as if for mutual destruction.

Lei Xiang formed a hand seal, watching it calmly. He was waiting for an opening—he didn’t believe the beast intended a head-on collision. “Cunning creature, there must be another trick!” Sure enough, as it neared, four streams of black smoke as thick as a pinky spewed from its fangs.

Lei Xiang sneered, released the seal he’d prepared, and pointed at a huge boulder in front of him. The half-ton rock instantly flew up, blocking the black smoke, which immediately wound around the stone, slowly corroding it.

Lei Xiang pulled out a slingshot, loaded it with stones, and fired five in rapid succession—smack! The beast yelped, but its hide was thick and resilient, not harmed in the least. Instead, it was enraged and pounced back at him.

Lei Xiang dodged sideways, hands moving in seals as fast as spinning wheels, but the beast was too fast. Its iron claws were nearly upon him—he barely dodged, missing by two inches. But the cunning beast extended its claws, sending two arcs of energy half a foot long slashing for him.

Exhausted, Lei Xiang could only block with his slingshot—crack! The hardwood snapped, and he was flung backward.

“Kill!”

With a low shout, Lei Xiang formed his fingers like a blade and released the Blue Light Spiral. A faint blue blade spun out, slipped into the black cloud above, and with a series of crackles, the grinding-stone-sized cloud disintegrated in three breaths. The Blue Light Spiral did not stop but circled the Oil Fortune Beast.

A hellish blue flash swept by, but the beast showed no change—just stood there in a daze.

Silence. The wind blew, and suddenly the massive dog’s head toppled to the ground.

Lei Xiang grinned again, baring his little tiger teeth. The Blue Light Spiral was truly swift; only after a delay did the beast’s head finally fall.

He didn’t stop there. With several more Blue Light Spirals, blue blades danced and quickly stripped off the beast’s pelt, severed its tail, and even plucked its whiskers.

Picking up the broken slingshot, Lei Xiang smiled wryly. It was the first weapon he had ever crafted, and now it was ruined. “If only I had a sniper rifle—one shot per target, no Oil Fortune Beast would be a match.”

Thinking of his beloved rifle, blue light flickered in Lei Xiang’s eyes. “Maybe this is heaven’s way of giving me an opportunity. Since there are no rifles in the cultivation world, why can’t I build one? Then I’d be the number one marksman under the heavens.”

Second chapter.