142: Chapter 142 Cultivating Iron Shirt

One month.

Counting from the day Young Master Zhao Qingyun's corpse was carried back to Qingyun Martial Arts Hall, a full month had passed.

Undercurrents surged in Yunzhou Prefecture. People from Qingyun Martial Arts Hall were acting like madmen, searching everywhere for news of the hidden weapon expert. Teahouses, restaurants, weapon shops, Medicinal Pill markets—every place a Martial Artist might frequent had been turned upside down by them.

But that person in the black cloak who had killed with a single Flying Knife in the Sleeve seemed to have evaporated into thin air, leaving not even a trace behind.

Lin Tian knew nothing of this.

After returning to his small courtyard on Zixia Peak, he had shut the gate and never stepped out again. The shifting winds and surging undercurrents outside had nothing to do with him. He only did one thing every day—Cultivate.

This past month, he had focused on two things. One was the Dragon Roar Iron Shirt, and the other was the Purple Qi Diagram. The former was a hard-training Cultivation Technique he had just obtained, with a terrifyingly high rank; he had to strike while the iron was hot and solidify his foundation.

The latter was his fundamental Mind-Cultivation Technique; how far his cultivation could go depended entirely on what Realm he could reach with the Purple Qi Diagram.

Besides these, he also dedicated time every day to practice the martial arts he had already mastered: the Xiaguang Sword Technique, Cloud Shadow Step, Flying Knife in the Sleeve, Meteor Arrow Technique, Great Strength Vajra Palm, and Thunderclap Sword Technique.

This was the benefit of the Proficiency System—there was no need to deliberately seek a Breakthrough; as long as he practiced, the numbers would rise. Once the numbers rose, his Realm would naturally follow.

A month of time slipped away silently in the day-to-day grind of hard cultivation.

On the evening of the thirtieth day, Lin Tian finished his session, stood still, and exhaled a long, turbid breath.

Twilight drifted in from outside the courtyard walls, dyeing the old pine tree in the yard a dark gold. He stood under the tree, closed his eyes, and called up the proficiency panel.

Name: Lin Tian.

Cultivation: Fourth-Rank Warrior, Middle Stage.

Martial Arts—

Purple Qi Diagram, Proficiency, 820/3000.

Xiaguang Sword Technique, Proficiency, 760/3000.

Cloud Shadow Step, Proficiency, 550/3000.

Flying Knife in the Sleeve, Proficiency, 226/3000.

Meteor Arrow Technique, Minor Achievement, 485/1000.

Great Strength Vajra Palm, Proficiency, 73/3000.

Thunderclap Sword Technique, Minor Achievement, 6/1000.

Dragon Roar Iron Shirt, Entry-level, 3/100.

His gaze lingered on the last line.

Dragon Roar Iron Shirt, Entry-level, 3/100. One month, and it had only just reached Entry-level.

This speed was slower than any other martial art he had cultivated.

Although the Purple Qi Diagram had also been slow to start, that was when he had just entered the Sect; his cultivation was low, his foundation was thin, and his control over Internal Energy was almost zero.

The Xiaguang Sword Technique, Thunderclap Sword Technique, and Great Strength Vajra Palm had all reached Entry-level within a few days. Only this Dragon Roar Iron Shirt had taken him an entire month just to barely touch the threshold of Entry-level.

It wasn't that he was slacking off.

This month, he had spent more time on the Dragon Roar Iron Shirt every day than on any other martial art. He practiced for one hour in the early morning, one hour in the afternoon, and one hour at night.

His Internal Energy surged through his body according to the routes in the Secret Manual, from skin to muscle, from muscle to sinew and bone.

Every surge was accompanied by intense pain—not the sharp pain of being cut by a blade or burned by fire, but a dull, marrow-deep ache from the inside out, as if someone were hammering his body inch by inch from within.

For the first few days, after practicing, he felt as if his bones had been removed, collapsing on the ground, unable to move. It wasn't until seven or eight days later that the pain slowly began to subside.

By around the twentieth day, when his Internal Energy surged, his skin would take on a faint, dark green sheen, like iron that had been quenched. If he pressed it with his hand, he could feel something extra beneath the skin—not thick, but very tough.

One month to reach Entry-level. The price was painful, but the reward was solid.

Lin Tian opened his eyes and looked down at his arm. In the twilight, the skin on his forearm looked no different from a month ago; it still had the tightness and smoothness characteristic of a young Martial Artist.

But he knew it was different. When he was practicing swordplay yesterday, the blade of the autumn water sword had accidentally grazed his forearm. In the past, this would have at least left a bloody gash.

But yesterday, that sword strike only left a faint white mark on his skin, which vanished after a single wipe.

And this was only just reaching Entry-level. What if he practiced it to Proficiency, Minor Achievement, Proficiency, Major Achievement?

By then, the blades of a Fourth-Rank Warrior striking him might not even leave a white mark.

Lin Tian pulled down his sleeve and turned to walk into the house. No more practice today. He would rest for half a day; there was another matter to attend to tomorrow.

Early the next morning, Lin Tian put on a clean Disciple uniform, pushed open the courtyard gate, and walked straight up the mountain path toward the peak. A month ago, Peak Master Su Hanyan had told him to come to the main hall after one month; she wanted to assess his progress in the Thunderclap Sword Technique.

Today was exactly one month.

The main hall at the peak remained as quiet as ever. The hall doors were ajar, and when the mountain wind blew, a faint, wailing sound drifted through the gaps. Lin Tian stopped outside the hall door and raised his hand to knock.

"Come in."

Peak Master Su Hanyan's voice came from inside, as cool as ever.

Lin Tian pushed the door open and entered. The furnishings in the main hall were exactly the same as a month ago—the long table, the calligraphy and paintings, the bronze lamp.

Peak Master Su Hanyan stood behind the long table, holding that deep purple longsword, looking up at him. Her gaze lingered on Lin Tian for a moment before moving to the autumn water sword at his waist.

"Demonstrate the Thunderclap Sword Technique. Let me see."

Her tone was flat, with no hint of expectation. A month ago, it had taken Lin Tian nine days just to reach Entry-level in the Thunderclap Sword Technique.

In her view, this speed could only be described as barely passable—no, it didn't even touch the edges of passable.

Talented Disciples reached Entry-level in a day or two, ordinary ones in three to five days, and the slower ones took at most seven or eight days. Reaching Entry-level in nine days placed him at the very bottom among the new Disciples of Zixia Peak.

But Lin Tian had claimed he was a late bloomer. That he was slow to start but fast afterward. Peak Master Su Hanyan didn't really believe it.

She had seen those with good talent, those with poor talent, those who started fast and ended slow, and those who started slow and ended fast, but she had never seen anyone start as slowly as nine days and then somehow become fast later.

According to her experience, those who were slow to start would only be even slower in their later cultivation.

Because the beginning tested one's basic comprehension of martial arts; if one struggled this much just to get through the door, the path ahead would only become narrower.

However, she had decided to give Lin Tian one month. One month, from Entry-level to Proficiency, was almost impossible for a Yellow Rank high-grade sword technique.

For a normal Disciple, the cultivation speed for a martial art of this level, from Entry-level to Proficiency, required at least three months to half a year.

She had deliberately set the time at one month, wanting to see just how far Lin Tian could Cultivate.

Even if he didn't reach Proficiency, she could use his progress over this month to calculate Lin Tian's true cultivation speed.

As for the possibility that Lin Tian could actually reach Proficiency within a month—she hadn't even considered it.

Lin Tian drew the autumn water sword.

The light in the main hall was dim, and the flame of the bronze lamp cast a flowing sheen on the sword. He gripped the sword, stood in place, and took a deep breath.

He had already figured out the characteristics of the Thunderclap Sword Technique when he first reached Entry-level a month ago.

Two words—fast and fierce.

Fast refers to the speed of the sword strike. Internal Energy vibrates at high speed along the blade, and when the tip of the sword pierces the air, there is almost no resistance; a flash of sword light, and the sword has already arrived.

Fierce refers to the power of the sword momentum.

The Internal Energy explodes at the tip of the sword, erupting with a thunderous roar; the sound waves and Sword Qi crush forward simultaneously, shaking the enemy's soul and shattering their sinews and bones.

At the Entry-level of the Thunderclap Sword Technique, a single thrust can only produce one clap of thunder.

At the Skilled Realm, it can produce three.

At the Minor Achievement Realm, five.

At the Proficiency Realm, seven.

At the Major Achievement Realm, nine.

Nine-nine returns to one; only then is it true Thunderclap.

How many could Lin Tian produce now? Five.

His Thunderclap Sword Technique had reached the Minor Achievement Realm; one thrust produced five layers of thunder sounds, with a sound wave strong enough to shatter all porcelain within a zhang.

But he did not intend to go all out.

Peak Master Su Hanyan had only given him one month. One month, from Entry-level to Skilled, was already absurdly fast in the eyes of a normal person.

If she knew he hadn't just reached the Skilled Realm, but had jumped straight to Minor Achievement—that wouldn't be explainable as being a late bloomer; that would be a monster.

His situation had just improved; there was no need to push himself into the limelight just to show off for a moment. The fewer people who knew about one's trump cards, the more powerful they were.

So, three was enough.

Lin Tian moved.

The autumn water sword was lifted from in front of him, the tip tracing an arc as it pierced the Void Realm ahead. The blade trembled, Internal Energy vibrating at high speed along it, emitting a low hum. The moment the sword tip pierced the air, the sound of thunder exploded.

Boom! Boom-boom!

Not one sound, but three.

Three thunder claps erupted almost simultaneously from the tip of the sword, one overlapping another, one pushing another.

The first thunder clap was the loudest, shaking the air in the main hall.

The second thunder clap followed closely, low and deep, like a muffled roll of thunder on the distant horizon.

The third thunder clap finished it off, short and sharp, like the explosive crack when lightning splits the clouds.

The three thunder claps overlapped, bouncing back and forth between the four walls of the main hall, causing the flame of the bronze lamp to sway violently, the teacup on the long table to hum, and even the huge calligraphy and painting on the wall to tremble slightly.

One sword, three thunders. The Skilled Realm.

Lin Tian sheathed his sword and stood still again. The thunder sounds in the main hall continued to echo, growing more distant and lower, finally dissipating among the beams of the hall roof.

The flame of the bronze lamp flickered and steadied. The humming of the teacup also stopped.

The entire main hall returned to silence, so quiet that only the slight sound of Peak Master Su Hanyan's robes as she stood up remained.

Peak Master Su Hanyan stood up.

She didn't stand up slowly.

She stood up abruptly. The legs of the chair scraped across the bluestone floor, emitting a harsh, grating sound.

Her hands pressed against the long table, her body leaning slightly forward, her eyes fixed intently on the autumn water sword in Lin Tian's hand.

Those eyes, usually as cold as frost, were wide open now, her pupils reflecting the dancing firelight of the bronze lamp, looking like two ignited flames.

Skilled.

This kid had actually really reached the Skilled Realm.

Her lips were slightly parted, wanting to say something, but the words were stuck in her throat, and she couldn't utter a single syllable.

A month ago, she had estimated for Lin Tian in her heart—nine days to reach Entry-level, and according to the normal cultivation patterns of a Martial Artist, it would take at least three to five years to go from Entry-level to Skilled.

Even if Lin Tian was truly a "late bloomer" as he claimed, and his later cultivation speed was faster than his entry, it couldn't possibly be this fast.

One month, from Entry-level to Skilled, one month!

Nine days to reach Entry-level was an inferior talent. One month from Entry-level to Skilled—what kind of talent was this? This could no longer be explained by talent.

For the same Thunderclap Sword Technique, a Genius of Zhao Mingyang's level would still take two or three months to go from Entry-level to Skilled. Lin Tian had only used half the time of Zhao Mingyang.

And Zhao Mingyang had only taken a day or two to reach Entry-level, while Lin Tian had taken nine days. Starting as slow as a tortoise, and breaking through as fast as a falcon. This was not the normal cultivation pattern of a Martial Artist at all.

Late bloomer. These four words echoed repeatedly in Peak Master Su Hanyan's mind.

A year ago, when Lin Tian stood before her and said these four words, she had only found it laughable.

Someone who couldn't even reach Entry-level in the first layer of the Purple Qi Diagram after five days of teaching, deserved to talk about being a late bloomer?

She had smashed the cup on the ground, turned, and left, never looking at this person again.

A year later, this person stood in the same main hall, having taken one month to practice the Thunderclap Sword Technique from Entry-level to Skilled.

It had taken her a year to be forced to admit—she had misjudged him.