Three guards were responsible for firing the crossbows, taking turns.
Meanwhile, five more guards were tasked with loading the arrows into the empty crossbows. These repeating hand-crossbows were quite intricate, able to hold ten arrows each.
Luckily, the arrows were easy to make. Each arrow was about the length of a palm, wooden shaft tipped with a head. Meng Chuan had to cut through eight thousand arrows daily, so craftsmen were needed to prepare enough shafts with heads attached.
"Hurry up!"
Every day, servants delivered a pile of arrowheads to a workshop.
Ten apprentices were assigned to make the wooden shafts and affix the arrowheads. According to Meng Chuan's requirement, each shaft had a red dot painted on it. When he drew his blade, he aimed to cut precisely at that red dot. The work was not difficult, but it consumed time and labor. Over time, the crossbows required maintenance and even replacement.
Hoo!
Meng Chuan stood, drawing his blade in an instant. The flash of steel split the arrows that seemed like illusions, hitting the red dots perfectly. The remaining blade energy struck the iron-plated tree trunk, leaving traces behind.
"Faster."
Every strike pursued speed.
Body, true energy, blade technique—all were pushed to their limits under his intense will, continuously mobilizing potential, striving for ever-greater swiftness.
The human body held immense potential. The more he tapped into it, the stronger the resulting power. Practicing hundreds or thousands of times was far more effective than mere idle thought. With each strike, body, true energy, and blade technique fused more completely.
Progress was subtle.
Yet seeing the blade traces slowly climbing the tree trunk brought joy. He could feel his improvement. His blade was faster!
"More precise… faster."
This training was indulgent. Originally, several Wulou Stage masters served as sparring partners. But now, they were unnecessary. Spending silver monthly on Wulou Stage assistance became even less. Hiring them was too costly.
At this stage, Meng Chuan had already comprehended the secret technique. Wulou Stage partners who had similarly comprehended it offered little help.
…
Daily training item two: movement and defensive blade technique.
"Release!" a servant commanded.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Ten Marrow-Washing Stage guards and two Transcendent Stage guards fired arrows simultaneously. These shafts were made of Scarlet Blood Mystic Iron, but lacked heads; the tips were wrapped in cloth.
Twelve arrows shot within ten zhang, each Marrow-Washing Stage guard exerting over a thousand jin of strength. The Transcendent Stage arrows were even faster, even deadlier. Under such a storm, Meng Chuan had to dodge while applying blade techniques for defense.
"Release!" The first row retreated; the second row, ten Marrow-Washing Stage and two Transcendent Stage guards, fired again.
"Release!" Soon, the third row did the same.
Three rows in total.
They rotated.
After the third row, the first row was ready again.
Row after row… Each volley contained twelve arrows, including two from Transcendent Stage, far more threatening at close range. Occasionally, he would be hit. He would tire. But he had to persist. The more exhausted, the more he needed to endure.
By forging body and mind into one, his movement became faster, more agile. Blade defense also faster.
This training required thirty Marrow-Washing Stage guards and six Transcendent Stage guards. Daily, half an hour of sparring.
Even with rotation, the guards were exhausted. Meng Chuan reached his limit too.
…
Night fell, quiet and still.
In his courtyard, with true energy fully recovered, Meng Chuan began the final training—Extreme Draw Blade Technique.
He stood perfectly still.
Suddenly—
His body became a blur, leaping ten zhang forward, a blade flash striking out. This time, movement and blade were faster than during the day.
Why faster?
The Extreme Draw Blade maximized true energy output! Pushing his meridians to their limits, causing slight strain. Any more, and damage would occur. By unleashing true energy to the extreme, his movement was faster, blade swifter.
Each use of the extreme technique consumed enormous true energy.
Yet the power was immense.
"One… two…" Meng Chuan repeated the extreme draw.
Each strike left fleeting blade shadows.
"Thirty-one!" He stopped. His meridians throbbed slightly from the surge, but no sharp pain.
"My true energy, unleashed fully, can only perform thirty-one extreme draws," he thought. "According to the Academy, the body is remarkable. Muscles and bones grow stronger under training. Meridians widen, toughen under extreme exertion. Repeated extreme true energy output trains meridians to endure more."
"I must prepare my body to withstand greater surges. Then, in true life-or-death combat, my movement and blade power will be faster."
He realized that preparing the body for extreme true energy was a path beyond the Body-Mind-Skill Fusion. Combining the two paths would make him stronger.
…
These three daily trainings, plus herbal baths and pills to accelerate Marrow-Washing, formed his normal routine.
Consistency.
Days passed.
His father had left Dongning Prefecture on a long journey. His father's inn was considered the finest in Dongning Prefecture due to a unique seasoning—Lotus Fish Powder! A rare small fish, dried and ground, could turn a decent dish into a culinary marvel. This made the inn the top in Dongning.
Yet what exactly the Lotus Fish was, remained secret. Even the other four major Godfiend families of Dongning desired it. Clearly, the Meng family protected the secret. Meng Dajiang discovered this mysterious small fish and traveled twice yearly, each trip lasting one to two months, to bring back the powder.
…
Night.
Two shadows moved like specters across the wilderness.
"Reached the Yu Fang Residence. We've finally entered Wuzhou. Rest here; your injuries need proper care. No more rushing." One figure was the charming Liu Yebai; the other, a thinner Meng Dajiang.
Dajiang, in black, had slimmed but retained much of his youthful build, still handsome. His face pale, he coughed quietly.
Cough… cough. Blood stained his palm.
"You've really overexerted yourself," Liu Yebai said.
"Chuan'er is about to enter the Transcendent Stage. I must accumulate enough merit," Meng Dajiang said.
Liu Yebai shook his head. "All these years risking life and limb, trading it all for an Iceheart Fruit, just to build your son's Godfiend foundation—is it worth it?"
Meng Dajiang smiled wearily. "My greatest pride in life is my son. Anything for Chuan'er is worth it."