Chapter Eighteen: A Unique Spiritual Power!

Beneath the cold and clear moonlight, Yang Yan sat cross-legged atop the massive boulder where he so often cultivated, eyes tightly shut. If one were to observe closely, they would notice the spiritual energy within several feet around him seemed drawn by an unseen force, swirling inward like water in a vortex, surging endlessly into his body with Yang Yan at its center.

With a gentle exhale, Yang Yan slowly opened his eyes and unconsciously clenched his right fist. That satisfying sense of fullness, of his body once more brimming with spiritual power, returned to him.

“No wonder the path of immortality holds such temptation for mankind,” Yang Yan mused inwardly. “This feeling of strength coursing through every fiber of my being… it’s truly wonderful.”

He quieted his heart again, sitting in meditation, carefully sensing the state of spiritual power within his “Sea of Qi.” After nearly two hours of absorption and refinement, his inner reserves had been replenished.

From the Sense Spirit stage onward, each step in a cultivator’s advancement became a struggle. Yet once spiritual power was expended, absorbing and refining it anew was as natural as breathing—requiring little effort at all.

It was as if one’s strength was the fisherman, and the spiritual power within was the fish; once the fish were gone, so long as one had the net, catching more was far easier.

Yet as he sensed the misty current of spiritual power within, Yang Yan noticed, as always, faint blue threads intermingled with it. He frowned slightly. From the very day he reached the Sense Spirit stage—the day the “Cold Pellet” had vanished—he’d discovered these strange blue strands, seemingly produced by that very pellet, now fused with the spiritual node in his lower abdomen.

His cultivation method differed from the norm. The spiritual energy he absorbed from the world outside was refined by the node in his lower abdomen, transformed into water-attribute spiritual power, and then delivered to his Sea of Qi by a particular meridian. His node itself stored no power.

Under normal circumstances, it should have been impossible for any spiritual power to bypass the node and be sent directly to his Sea of Qi. Whether these uncanny blue strands were a blessing or a curse, he couldn’t say; but there was no way to exclude them from his cultivation.

“Fortune or disaster, I’ll find out soon enough.”

Having made up his mind, Yang Yan wasted no time. He leapt down from the boulder, striding quickly to a nearby great tree. With a thought, the spiritual power within his Sea of Qi began to whirl and surge, rushing along his meridians to gather in his right fist.

This time, he deliberately channeled as much of the peculiar blue spiritual power as possible. He could not prevent its generation, but he could guide and use it at will.

Staring at his fist—once veiled in clear, water-like spiritual power—Yang Yan watched as it slowly took on the hue of pale seawater, shimmering with a strange blue brilliance beneath the moonlight, all due to the blue strands that had joined in.

What startled him even more was the temperature around him. As the blue energy condensed in his fist, the air seemed to plummet to freezing in an instant. On the fallen leaves and withered grass nearby, a layer of crystalline frost began to form and spread.

Amazed, Yang Yan gazed at the pale blue aura swirling around his fist. In such an environment, he felt no chill at all; instead, cool currents surged through his pores and with every breath, sweeping along his meridians into his organs, leaving his mind clear and his body indescribably refreshed.

He stood dazed for a moment before recalling his purpose. Gathering his focus, he raised his fist high and struck the tree trunk with all his might.

A thunderous crash rang out, echoing through the quiet, moonlit hills. Leaves rustled to the ground, startled birds fled into the night. Fortunately, this was only the outer reaches of the Broken Cloud Mountains, where no high-level magical beasts prowled; otherwise, such commotion would have made him easy prey.

Drawing back his fist, Yang Yan stared intently at the spot he’d struck. His expression shifted from shock to astonishment, then to wild joy.

A deep fist mark was embedded in the thick trunk, but the real wonder lay in what happened next. Centered on the impact, a web of pale blue ice spread outward, instantly enveloping most of the tree and transforming it into a veritable “ice tree.”

Each element among the Five Elements had its strengths and weaknesses. Metal was famed for its offensive power, cutting down all in its path. Fire was fierce and dominant, capable of burning all things. Earth specialized in defense, solid and unyielding. Wood thrived in endurance and vitality, inexhaustible and sustaining.

Water, for its part, nourished all things without contention—vast and tolerant as the sea, it absorbed and assimilated everything. Setting aside the cycles of elemental mutual reinforcement and restriction, when it came purely to attack, water was typically considered the weakest of the five.

However, to Yang Yan’s surprise and delight, the strange blue spiritual power within his Sea of Qi seemed to make up for water’s lack of offensive strength. The chilling blue ice it created was something no opponent could afford to ignore.

From this alone, it was clear that the inexplicable blue energy within him would bring him endless benefits.

“With this blue spiritual power at my disposal, and if I can restore and nurture the Broken Sword, I’ll have more than enough confidence to seize first place at the upcoming Grand Martial Gathering of All Clans!”

With this thought, Yang Yan hesitated no longer. He strode over to the boulder, picked up the Broken Sword, and sent his spiritual power surging into its hilt.

Unlike his previous panicked attempts, this time Yang Yan remained calm, allowing the sword to draw from his reserves as it wished. He soon noticed that the sword seemed to seek out the blue spiritual power in particular, absorbing it preferentially, with his regular water-attribute energy being taken only incidentally.

“What is the origin of this pale blue power, that even the Broken Sword covets it so…”

While he pondered, his energy was gradually drawn away. The sword flashed with silver light, the rust flaking off bit by bit.

Though he now felt weak to the point of drowsiness, Yang Yan did not lose consciousness as before. Instead, seeing the sword’s transformation, he was filled with joy; even his fatigue diminished. Forcing himself to stay awake, he sat cross-legged once more, drawing in and refining spiritual energy.

Nearly two more hours passed. At last, Yang Yan opened his eyes, coming out of his meditative state. The sense of strength filling his body made him cry out in exhilaration.

Sensing inward, he discovered something new: his spiritual power was even more abundant and vigorous than before.