"Second class..." At this moment, Zhang Rongfang once again realized just how oppressive it was to be part of the lower caste in the Great Spirit.
"But fortunately, there's still some hope, right?" Dong Dafang's expression was somewhat helpless.
"Better off than those slaves..." he added at the end.
The term slaves refers to those referred to as the general slaves of the Great Spirit.
Indeed, only slightly better than being slaves.
Afterwards, none of them were in the mood to speak as they began sparring separately.
Zhang Rongfang paired with Dong Dafang, while Xu Mingyu paired with Li Fuhua.
"Are we still working on breaking moves today?" Dong Dafang asked after standing firm opposite Zhang Rongfang.
"No, let's practice moves to block weapons," Zhang Rongfang replied, "Let's start with a few moves."
"Alright!" Dong Dafang laughed, "The usual rules, no hitting the head or groin. Be careful not to cry when I hit you."
"Not afraid of you," Zhang Rongfang also laughed.
The two of them distanced themselves and faced off.
It wasn't their first time sparring, they were familiar with each other's strength, about evenly matched. Dong Dafang had practiced a bit longer and could win six or seven out of ten times.
"Here I come!"
Dong Dafang launched a strike like a wasp, swiping his right fist towards Zhang Rongfang's neck.
The latter raised his forearm, using the fleshier part to block.
Slam.
Zhang Rongfang carefully compared the strength with before, realizing it felt significantly easier to block today.
'I've become much stronger,' his heart stirred slightly.
The two engaged, arms and legs exchanging blows, soft protectors clashing with loud impacts.
At first, Zhang Rongfang was cautious, but gradually, he became more at ease.
His opponent's movements and power seemed so slow to him.
Like watching a slow-motion scene in a movie.
Several times, he felt he could easily end the sparring, but considering his significant and sudden improvement, he refrained from making a move.
Originally, he intended to use his attribute points to quickly enhance his strength, aspire for a rank grade, and secure an official position.
But unexpectedly...
As part of the Barbarian Race, one needed to be at least second class to attain a rank...
Even after achieving a rank, one would still remain a servant or follower...
Such oppression of a race, it's no wonder there are rumors of rebellions outside.
Zhang Rongfang found himself momentarily lost in thought.
Fortunately, he remembered to hide his progress, trying to display an improvement similar to before, just slightly better.
Dong Dafang, being new himself, couldn't tell any differences in his Mountain-shaped Talisman.
Before long, they finished sparring, gathered together to wipe sweat and hydrate.
In the distance, the morning sun rose slowly over the mountain, illuminating the clouds and mist, as if enveloping the entire Qinghe Palace in a golden-red glow.
"Dafang, how powerful do you think those who have achieved rank are?" Zhang Rongfang always wanted to know this point.
Ever since the Qinghe incident, whenever he practiced martial arts, he couldn't help but recall Xiao Rong's sweating brow after combat.
Ranked experts generally didn't train at such dojos anymore but sought out places to practice alone.
"I've heard those who attain a rank and undergo Muscle Forging and Blood Nourishing have much greater strength than us. Their skin is tougher, like covered in leather," Dong Dafang replied.
"In a real fight, as long as no sharp weapons are involved, facing ranked levels—unless the difference in skills is too significant—it's generally advised to flee if possible, otherwise, only by equipping sharp weapons one can give it a try."
Suddenly, another voice came through.
They all turned towards the sound to see a tall, sturdy Daoist standing beside them, speaking as if he knew everyone well.
"Zhang Xintai, Senior Brother?" Zhang Rongfang paused in surprise.
This was the senior brother who he saw last time at a gathering, already a second class.
The others, including Dong Dafang, all stood up to greet him with clasped fists. Zhang Xintai occasionally came over to chat with Zhang Rongfang, so they met before.
"There's an inspection this afternoon, I saw your name on the list and wanted to call you over, but unfortunately, you got pulled away by someone else earlier," Zhang Xintai said helplessly.
"Senior Brother, it's just that I wasn't so fortunate," Zhang Rongfang replied in surprise.
"Actually, the strength in martial arts mainly depends on two things: the strength of the martial art itself and your level and actual combat experience," Zhang Xintai smiled.
He lifted the hem of his Daoist robe, assuming the starting stance of the Mountain-shaped Talisman—the Clear Wind Point.
"Care for a move?"
"I couldn't ask for more!" Zhang Rongfang beamed, "Please guide me, Senior Brother."
Without hesitation, he advanced with a Mountain Ridge Swipe.
This move targeted the chest, executing a sweep like a bold stroke on a large scroll, dragging out a broad trail of ink.
"Not bad!" Zhang Xintai was slightly surprised, noting the proficiency of the move.
"In real combat, the strength of martial arts is crucial. Many martial arts are inherently flawed, and unless your speed far exceeds the opponent's, you would be beaten to death within a few moves."
While he countered Zhang Rongfang's attack, his moves were natural, with a certain rhythm and returned taps.
"The lower the mastery level of martial arts, the more flaws; the higher the level, the fewer flaws. The higher the actual combat experience, the fewer the flaws. Therefore, in same-sect duels, the outcome is often determined much quicker if their realms differ."
Zhang Xintai lightly maneuvered behind Zhang Rongfang, delivering a palm strike to his back.
"The flaw in this move you showed is too large, so you've already died once."
Zhang Rongfang immediately understood, and this was just within three moves...
He withdrew, clasping his fists, gasping for a few breaths.
"Thank you, Senior Brother, for the guidance."
He paused for a moment.
"So from Senior Brother's perspective, martial arts are the key to everything?"
The martial arts of this world have always been enigmatic.
This made him constantly unclear about what truly constitutes a master.
"Exactly." Zhang Xintai nodded, lowering his voice at the same time. "If I explain it too complexly, you'll just get more confused, so you just need to know that the stronger the martial arts, the more formidable the person, that's all."
"Understood..." Zhang Rongfang caught on to the hidden implications.
From what he understood.
There are many martial arts that require a high foundation for practice.
So just from this sentence, it wasn't exactly wrong.
"In my Rejuvenation Purification Talisman Manual, the Mountain-shaped Talisman is just the basics. The further ahead a talismanic skill is, the greater its power. If you have the chance in the future, you should learn the ones ahead as much as possible. Of course, that might require a true disciple status."
Zhang Xintai further explained some content about martial arts, giving the group a deeper understanding of the Mountain-shaped Talisman.
After morning exercises, the four of them returned to their rooms to freshen up.
Zhang Rongfang didn't continue to tag along with Xiao Qingying this time but went to the patrol room to get the team assignment number from the patrol senior brother.
The place he needed to go to was Huangyu Village, a relatively large village in Huaxin County.
The team was led by a senior brother named Namu Stone.
Namu Stone's grade was second rank, the same as other team leaders.
And they needed to stay outside for ten days on this trip.
Four days to travel back and forth, and six days to patrol the surrounding areas of the village.
A martial cultivator disciple like Zhang Rongfang, who had only been practicing for a short time, surprisingly got pulled into the patrol team. He couldn't imagine what might happen if such a disciple encountered real mountain bandits.
Without equipment, even though they had practiced martial arts, when faced with weapons like knives, would the enemy wait for them to approach with bare fists?
So clearly, disciples like them were either there to do nothing or to be cannon fodder.
*
*
*
Autumn rain drizzled continuously.
At the entrance of a small mountain village, amidst the lush green forests and fields, lay a withered yellow path.
The path extended from the mountains, connecting to the village gate, resembling a winding long snake.
The sky was overcast, with sporadic calls of birds echoing from the mountains.
A squad of Great Spirit soldiers, clad in leather armor with official swords at their waists and carrying quivers of arrows on their backs, was walking along the muddy path towards the village.
In the team, there were also four Daoists dressed in short blue robes.
"The target is nearby, stay alert," the leading officer shouted loudly.
This captain stood at 1.9 meters tall, with a robust and muscular build, carrying a black spear with a wooden shaft over 1.5 meters long.
His name was Yang Xuanchao, a third-ranked Northern person, and his martial arts were rated third rank.
Among the four Daoists, a dark-skinned man with a square face looked back at the other three.
"This is our destination. We will be here for the next six days, patrolling for mountain bandits around the area.
Of course, we aren't the main force, but we still need to stay vigilant."
This person was Namu Stone, the leader of Zhang Rongfang's team. As a second-ranked master, he had clearly been through real battles and wasn't a rookie.
This gave the other three a slight sense of security.
Zhang Rongfang stood among them, observing and surveying the surroundings the entire way so he would be prepared for any trouble.
Xiao Qingying was beside him, along with another male Daoist named Chen Yuncao, making up the entire team configuration.
A second rank leading three with no rank.
With the cooperation of the soldiers, it seemed fairly safe.
At this time, not far from the village, on a hillock.
A few mountain bandits clad in tattered clothes overlaying stinky leather armor were hiding in the bushes, peering in this direction from afar.
Through the foliage, they could see the situation near the village.
"The team is too strong; it's hard to take on this job for the client." The bandit leader frowned.
"This situation isn't what the client described; there are too many soldiers here," another bandit whispered in reply.
"No rush. It's said that there will be arrangements to isolate someone later on, and if there's really no chance, we'll just retreat. At worst, getting half the deposit would still be a profit!" The bandit leader said indifferently.
In reality, both the bandits and the soldiers knew that such cooperative patrols were mostly for show to the upper echelons.
When these teams went out, the bandits behaved themselves, not causing trouble, maintaining a tacit understanding.
When they didn't go out, the bandits would continue to find targets.
After observing for a while, the few bandits discreetly withdrew without making a sound.
The stationed life at Huangyu Village was quite dull.
Zhang Rongfang initially thought this trip would be extremely dangerous, but later discovered that the soldiers' combat power was quite strong.
Not just one-on-one, but with bows and arrows.
Within sixty meters, every shot was a bullseye.
Four days passed continuously, without a trace of the mountain bandits, but they managed to hunt plenty of wild game on the mountain.
At first, Zhang Rongfang was quite vigilant, always staying cautious, but later saw that these soldiers had no intention of patrolling the mountains.
Every day, the soldier captain would just drink and boast with wealthy villagers, evidently acquainted with them.
The other soldiers scattered around, some off hunting, others finding spots to nap.
Wood Stone Daoist from Qinghe Palace, on the other hand, had more responsibilities.
Every day, he led the three of them to patrol around the village.
But judging by his frequent stops to bend over and gather medicinal herbs, Zhang Rongfang suspected this guy was likely out just to collect herbs.
Bringing them out was just to help carry things.
As the ten-day period quickly approached its end, it was almost time to return.