Following the creation of "Beastly Intent Demonic Claw" and "Blood-Soaked Sunken Heart", a massive amount of detailed and precise information surged within the depths of Sevrin's mind.
Furthermore, Sevrin's level of understanding regarding these two skills felt as though he had practiced them for an incredibly long time. they were, quite literally, integrated into his very being.
First was the "Blood-Soaked Sunken Heart".
The specific effectiveness of this divinity was summarized as being largely identical to its predecessor, "Blood-Devouring Heart-Burn".
The difference lay in the fact that while "Blood-Devouring Heart-Burn" granted Sevrin a temporary 50-70% boost in combat power after paying the price of consuming blood and straining the heart, the "Blood-Soaked Sunken Heart" could increase his physical and combat intensity by more than double under the same cost.
Such an increase was enough to give Sevrin an absolute advantage when facing opponents in the same realm.
After studying the divinity, he turned to the true main event, the "Beastly Intent Demonic Claw".
As a martial art born from the "Tiger Claw Blade-Fist", this technique perfectly inherited the solid foundational framework of its predecessor.
Using that framework as a base, it successfully realized an ascent to a higher level of martial cultivation.
This was a breakthrough in fundamental training methods.
Regarding combat application, while retaining the various vicious force-utilization techniques of its predecessor, the "Beastly Intent Demonic Claw" creatively developed three types of explosive force techniques that could perfectly unleash a martial artist's physical power.
Namely: Spiral Claw Force, Tidal Wave Force, and Mountain-Shaking Force.
Setting aside the specific lethal effects of these three techniques for a moment, the most important aspect was that, beyond training and fighting, the "Beastly Intent Demonic Claw" achieved a massive breakthrough in the profound and mysterious realm of the spirit and mind.
This breakthrough allowed the practitioner, upon reaching the peak of this technique, to nurture a surge of primal, savage beastly intent within their consciousness, a force so deep and pure that it pierced through the internal and external, simultaneously connecting all Qi, Force, and Body.
This was what was known as: Martial Truth.
Under the empowerment of this pure Martial Intent, the force delivered by Sevrin's strikes was no longer just "strong" in the conventional sense, but a form of invisible True Force that was completely fused with his own Martial Truth.
Against this True Force, the minor spells and tricks of common ghosts and spirits were essentially trash that would be obliterated upon contact.
Simply put, True Force carried a definite "Law-Breaking" effect.
"Very good, exceptionally good."
Sevrin smiled with satisfaction, then immediately pushed these two skills to their peak levels with a single thought.
BOOM!
As if a massive surge of celestial essence had descended into Sevrin's body, his surrounding aura abruptly soared.
Simultaneously, countless strands of dense, hazy air currents, resembling thumb-sized serpents, materialized beneath Sevrin's skin and tendons, relentlessly circling, surging, and roaming from head to toe.
These indistinct air currents were the so-called invisible True Force.
"Phew~~"
Sevrin let out a long, relaxed breath, and a stream of pure white vapor nearly a meter long shot out from his mouth.
Such a terrifying display was utterly impossible for anyone whose lung and organ functions had not reached a supreme state.
A martial artist of the Vitality Circulation realm like Huin would be completely incapable of this.
It could only be achieved upon reaching the even higher level: the [Steel Tendons and Iron Bones] realm.
Indeed, having mastered the "Beastly Intent Demonic Claw" to its absolute limit in an instant, Sevrin had now attained the fourth stage of this world's martial arts system: Steel Tendons and Iron Bones.
As the name implies, a martial artist at this stage has tempered every muscle, tendon, and bone in their body to be as resilient and sturdy as forged steel. Even if struck by common firearms, they would feel pain but suffer no true injury.
Even the strength of their internal organs far exceeded that of ordinary people by an uncountable margin; they could swallow common poisons or even hard stones and still digest them without issue.
This kind of powerful physique, which usually required marrow-cleansing, blood-changing, and a thousand-fold tempering to achieve, naturally possessed terrifying physical strength: roughly ten times that of someone in the Vitality Circulation realm.
This meant that every casual gesture or movement carried tens of thousands of kilograms of immense power.
Having reached the fourth realm of Mainstream Martial Arts, Sevrin's personal interface naturally underwent significant changes.
Thus, his current interface information was:
[ Host: Sevrin
Level: Mainstream Martial Arts → Steel Tendons and Iron Bones, Bloodline Divinity → Mid, Ghost Path → Vengeful Spirit
Mastered Skills: "Five Animal Yale""Beastly Intent Demonic Claw""Blood-Soaked Sunken Heart""Ghostly Body, Soul Remains""Evil Yin Arts (Damaged)""Vile Slaughter Yin-Descent""Resentful Slaughter Yang-Extinguisher"
Special Traits: [Level 2 Robust Physique][Level 2 Sharp Nails][Level 2 Berserk][Level 2 Wild Nature][Level 2 Ethereal Body][Level 2 Ghostly Visage][Level 2 Twin Slaughter]
Expert Shards: None ]
"Time for a little practice."
With his sudden surge in power, Sevrin's hands were itching to move; he felt an irrepressible urge to stretch his newly tempered muscles and bones.
An instant later, his feet dug fiercely into the earth. Leaving behind a trail of jagged gouges, he soared like a celestial tiger, crossing dozens of meters in a single bound to land firmly on the branch of a towering tree outside the courtyard.
He rapped his knuckles against the massive trunk, which was over three meters thick. Just as he was about to test it with a couple of punches, Sevrin's ears twitched; he caught a faint sound.
"Hmm?"
He slowly brushed aside the dense foliage. "Sounds like someone's coming. Hmm... more than one person. And... they all reek of a bloody stench, crawling with the scent of vengeful souls."
Having mastered the "Beastly Intent Demonic Claw" to its peak, Sevrin didn't just possess a body of Steel Tendons and Iron Bones; he also wielded a beast-like sensory perception that bordered on a superpower.
This mysterious sense, represented in data as [Level 2 Wild Nature], allowed him to vaguely perceive the nature of others, whether they were kind, sinister, hypocritical, or feral, long before he ever saw or heard them. It was a trait that enabled him to bypass all sorts of unnecessary dangers and crises.
CRUNCH... CRUNCH...
After waiting for a brief moment, Sevrin heard the sound of withered leaves being crushed underfoot from below.
He looked down toward the sound and saw two strangers, one thin, one fat, slowly passing beneath the great tree.
The two men looked ordinary enough in their dress and appearance, but they both wore identical black headscarves embroidered with a grizzly, blood-dripping wolf-head emblem.
"Are these two from the same faction?" Sevrin pondered silently as he continued to watch.
Judging by their path, their destination was Old Dog Huin's courtyard.
As it happened, the gates to that courtyard were wide open.
From just a short distance away, one could clearly see Huin, his life force extinguished, bound to the wooden stake with a long bronze tube protruding from his chest, and the ground before him drenched in a massive spray of crimson blood.
When the two men witnessed this scene from afar, their expressions shifted instantly, and they let out gasps of horror:
"Old Master Geo is dead!"
"The Second Leader's father was actually murdered?!"
The two men hurried forward, rushing into the courtyard and coming to a halt beside Huin's corpse.
After conducting a quick inspection of the body, their expressions turned grim.
"The Old Master was bled to death by having this tube driven straight into his heart," the thin one muttered. "The killer was efficient; there wasn't a hint of hesitation."
"None of that matters," the fat one said, panic creeping into his voice. "The key is the Second Leader. When he finds out, he's going to go berserk. If he takes his rage out on the two of us, we're finished."
"He won't," the thin one reassured him. "The Second Leader may be cruel and bloodthirsty, but he's only like that toward outsiders. He's always been generous to his own brothers."
"No, no, no." The fat one shook his head. "I think we need to plan this more carefully..."
Before he could finish his sentence, a series of piercing, chilling whistles cut through the air.
The speed was so great that neither man had time to react.
CRACK~ CRACK~
Following the sharp snaps, both men let out muffled groans and collapsed helplessly to their knees.
Looking down, they discovered that their kneecaps had been brutally caved in by several palm-sized chunks of wood. The force of the impact was so immense that the wood had splintered and embedded itself deep into their mangled flesh.
The two were remarkably tough; despite suffering such injuries, they didn't utter a single scream. Instead, they scanned the surroundings with feral, vicious eyes, searching for the enemy's trail.
"What fierce gazes. You've certainly killed quite a few people, haven't you?"
Along with a lazy voice, Sevrin's figure appeared before them.
He looked down at the pair from his superior height and asked in a flat tone:
"I ask, you answer. Any problems with that?"
The thin man didn't respond. Instead, he lifted his head and stared fixedly at Sevrin's face, letting out a cold, mocking sneer:
"You have no idea who we are, yet you dare to strike so recklessly. Ah~ you're a dead man, kid."
Beside him, the fat man squinted at Sevrin, his voice equally cold:
"In all of Mount Qing, there is no one who can save you."
"Heh~ I'll be damned."
Faced with their continuous mockery, Sevrin let out a wicked laugh. "The two of you, putting on such a show. You're in this state yet still acting so brave. are you drunk, or just haven't woken up yet, hmm?!"
Along with that "hmm," Sevrin casually yanked the bronze tube from Huin's chest. Without even looking, he drove it violently into the thin man's thigh, piercing through his calf and straight into the ground below.
"AAAHHH!!!"
The strike was so brutal that the thin man could no longer maintain his composure and began to scream in agony.
However, after only a few screams, Sevrin delivered a sharp slap to his head, causing his eyes to roll back as he fainted while still seated.
But just a few seconds after he lost consciousness, Sevrin grabbed the long tube, which had skewered his leg, and ripped it out along with strips of flesh. He drove it once again into the man's other leg, similarly piercing the thigh and calf into the ground.
"AAHH! I give up, I give up!"
The thin man, sobbing as tears and snot poured down his face, wailed, "My lord, please stop tormenting me! I'll answer whatever you ask!"
The fat man, having witnessed the entire scene, was scared into a deathly silence. He quickly forced a fawning smile toward Sevrin:
"Me too! The same for me!"
"The same as what?"
Sevrin let out a cold sneer.
He yanked the bronze tube from the thin man's leg and slammed it down with crushing force onto the fat man's right hand, which was braced against the ground, turning it into a pulp of bloody meat and bone.
This sheer, overwhelming agony, far worse than even the pain of a severed finger, sent the fat man rolling across the ground, nearly causing him to pass out.
The culprit, Sevrin, stood before the two with his arms crossed and began his interrogation:
"I ask, you answer. Any problems with that?"
"No, none!" The two shook their heads frantically. "Please ask, my lord!"
"Good." Sevrin nodded. "Where did you come from, and whose subordinates are you?"
"We are men of the Black Wolf Bandits!" the two answered in unison.
"Black Wolf Bandits?" Sevrin's thick brows twitched. "You're a bunch of bandits?"
"Uh, you could say that," the fat man replied. "But our scale is a bit larger than most."
"A bit larger?" Sevrin asked again. "How many people?"
"Over ten thousand," the thin man replied.
His face didn't look right; it was deathly, chalky white. It was obvious that the wounds on his legs were too large and the blood loss was too severe.
"My, my lord," the thin man stammered with great effort. "Could, could I please bandage myself? I feel like I'm about to..."
BANG!
An explosive sound rang out.
The thin man's head was swatted mid-air by the bronze tube in Sevrin's hand, bursting into a spray of white and red that splattered all over the fat man's face.
"There. Now you don't need a bandage."
Sevrin casually tossed the tube aside, dusted his hands, and looked at the fat man. "I heard you two talking outside earlier; you said Huin was the biological father of your Second Leader. Is that right?"
The fat man stared blankly at the headless corpse lying beside him. He swallowed hard and replied tremblingly:
"No, not his biological father, his father-in-law. Old Master Geo married both of his daughters to the Second Leader."
"Oho,"
Upon hearing this, Sevrin laughed. "What a daughter-selling, honor-seeking old dog. He certainly knew how to climb the social ladder."
Stopping his laughter, he continued:
"What's your Second Leader's name? What's his background, and how good is his kung fu? And what about the First Leader? What information do you have on him? Oh, and tell me about the situation here on Mount Qing as well."
Facing this barrage of questions, the fat man thought for a moment before beginning his slow explanation:
"Our Second Leader's surname is Crisa, and his name is Coeu. He was originally from Soutang..."
As the fat man spoke, Sevrin gradually understood that the Black Wolf Bandits were not as simple as common bandits or mountain outlaws. They were an armed force operating within the vast Mount Qing range beneath his feet, possessing fixed territory and a considerable number of elite troops.
As for the Second Leader named Coeu, he was one of the key figures of this armed force. His martial arts cultivation was rumored to have reached the Steel Tendons and Iron Bones realm, the same realm as Sevrin.
Furthermore, it was through the fat man's explanation that Sevrin learned the world he was currently in was called the Martial Lands, and the dynasty ruling over half of these lands was the Graew Dynasty.
The fat man didn't know much about the Graew Dynasty, only vaguely aware that the empire consisted of two capitals and thirteen provinces.
Mount Qing, the sprawling range spanning thousands of miles where Sevrin now stood, was located in Cuxon Province at the southernmost edge of the Graew Dynasty. It was but one of the many mountain chains within that territory.
Interestingly, the Mount Qing range curved around the southern tip of Cuxon Province, meaning nearly half of the mountains extended beyond Graew's borders.
In other words, the northern face of the entire Mount Qing range essentially served as the southern national border of Graew.
Because this region bordering the southern end of the Graew Dynasty was not a formed nation, lacking even small states, and was filled with dense forests, venomous creatures, and frequent outbreaks of toxic miasma, it remained a lawless land.
Thus, this vast, mountainous territory, with its complex terrain far removed from the prosperity of the Core, became a chaotic zone entirely free from government control.
The Black Wolf Bandits were among the prominent players in this ungoverned region.
The fat man standing before Sevrin, along with the recently deceased thin man, were naturally not good people.
Though these two brothers were mediocre in martial arts, possessing only the Force Burst level of skill, Sevrin discovered the truth through a series of questions.
Relying on the fearsome reputation of the Black Wolf Bandits and their own ruthless natures, the number of innocent civilians who had died at their hands already exceeded ten.
Consequently, after squeezing every bit of intelligence out of the fat man, Sevrin delivered a single strike with the bronze tube, exploding his head and leaving only a headless, bloated corpse behind.
As for the martial arts practiced by these two, one was the Savage Bull Fist, and the other was the Iron Fan Palm. Although these were merely superficial styles that, even at their peak, could barely touch the Force Circulation realm, Sevrin did not snub them and learned both in their entirety.
Because for him, every additional technique learned was a form of respect for his own life.
This world was far too vast, with countless masters and secrets; it was better to play it safe. He would loot whatever he could find and never turn his nose up at anything.
"First things first,"
Sevrin looked down at his old, tattered homespun clothes and muttered, "I need to change out of these."
Immediately, he began a thorough search of the various side rooms within the courtyard.
Half an hour later, Sevrin emerged, washed and dressed in a set of new clothes and boots.
Beyond the clothing, Sevrin had also discovered a significant amount of wealth in one of the rooms.
It was worth noting that Graew's currency included copper coins, silver, and gold, but also paper banknotes. Compared to the modern banknotes of Earth, the paper money here was slightly coarser and larger in both denomination and physical size.
Wanting to travel light, Sevrin mostly took these Graew banknotes rather than heavy copper coins or silver ingots.
"Time to hit the road. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes."
Standing at the entrance, Sevrin cast one last glance at the courtyard and tossed a torch deep into the yard.
WHOOSH!
In an instant, the torch ignited a mountain of oil-soaked firewood, and the flames spread rapidly. Very quickly, the entire courtyard, along with the three corpses within, was completely engulfed in a raging inferno.
Sevrin turned his back to the blood-red firelight and walked slowly away, facing the rising sun.
"Wife,"
"Wife, oh wife,"
Just then, a faint calling drifted from the distance, reaching Sevrin's ears.
His footsteps stopped. He tilted his head to listen, and as his expression shifted, his figure blurred, hurtling rapidly toward the source of the voice.
After traveling over three hundred meters, an exceptionally handsome figure came into Sevrin's view.
It was, the young Huin.
"Wife,"
Huin's gait was dazed as he walked and shouted loudly, "Wife, where are you? Where are you?"
Suddenly, he spotted Sevrin standing quietly by the roadside. His eyes lit up, and he hurried forward, cupping his hands in a respectful salute:
"Bro, have you seen my wife anywhere?"
"Your wife?"
Sevrin asked in return, "What is her name?"
"Her name is..."
Huin stopped abruptly, then said with embarrassment, "I, I don't know."
"You don't know?"
Sevrin said, "If you don't even know her name, how can you find her?"
"I, I," Huin was dazed and flustered, at a loss for how to respond.
"Right."
As if thinking of something, Sevrin asked again, "What, is your name?"
"This..."
Huin froze instantly, then said blankly, "I, I don't know that either."
"Hmm," Sevrin mused, "I think I have a general idea of what you are."
Indeed, he was the mortal obsession left behind by Asell.
Immediately, Sevrin turned and strode toward the distance, never looking back.
Huin stood dazed for a while. Then, as if he had completely forgotten everything that had just happened, he stumbled back toward the depths of the forest, running and shouting:
"Wife,"
"Where are you, my wife?"
"Please come back, alright? Let's just go home, okay?"
...
After being scorched by the towering inferno, the dark forest had now truly become a land of silence and death.
Every great tree had been charred to charcoal or reduced to ash, covering the ground in a thick layer. A single step would sink deep into it, kicking up clouds of black dust.
Walking across this ashen ground, one could hear a constant CRUNCH, CRUNCH, as if the souls of the dead were groaning in pain. Simultaneously, the ruins of the forest were filled with the acrid, suffocating stench of smoke.
Yet within this harsh environment, Sevrin was striding forward with an impassive face.
With his current Steel Tendons and Iron Bones footwork, he covered dozens of meters every second. No matter how massive the charred timber blocking his path, it was smashed through and pulverized into dust upon impact.
Sevrin had returned to the dark forest for one reason: to answer a lingering question in his mind.
Namely, where did Asell's cultivation of the "Evil Yin Arts" come from?
And did her old house, the one that only existed through the eyes of a ghost, hide some sort of secret?
"Finally here."
Underneath the vast, misty dome, Sevrin gazed at the ash-covered hillside in the distance. Suddenly, his body turned ethereal and his face paled to a deathly white as he shifted into his ghostly form.
In that instant, the barren, rocky slope underwent a bizarre transformation within his vision.
An ancient, black-tiled house appeared there out of thin air.
"I hope this yields some results," Sevrin muttered as he rapidly drifted toward the old estate.
Before long, he reached the front gates of the residence.
Before he could even push them open, a clear, chilling sound of a woman's laughter echoed from within the ancient house:
"Giggle, giggle, giggle,"
Simultaneously, the pitch-black wooden gates before Sevrin creaked open automatically, as if urging him to enter quickly.
"You motherfucker," Sevrin cursed with a fearless laugh. "You're a ghost, but am I not a ghost too? You're trying to scare a ghost!"
With that, he drifted inside in true ghostly fashion, toes touching the ground, heels suspended in the air.
The wooden gates slammed shut behind him with a heavy thud.
At the exact moment Sevrin entered this mysterious Ghost House, a thin, middle-aged man dressed in daoist robes and holding a divination banner arrived at the edge of the dark forest ruins.
Brows knitted, he stared straight into the depths of the forest. He raised a hand to perform a calculation with his fingers while whispering to himself:
"The wicked Qi reaches the heavens yet lacks even a hint of murky dullness. Truly strange indeed. Could a 'sober ghost' actually have been born within this nameless demonic land?"
After pondering for a moment, the daoist reached into his sleeve and pinched a long, narrow yellow paper talisman between two fingers, beginning to chant under his breath.
WHOOSH!
After a few muttered incantations, the yellow talisman ignited without fire between his fingers.
Then, this mysterious daoist, holding his banner in one hand and the burning talisman in the other, stepped into the blackened ruins of the dark forest.