Chapter Two: Bone Refining and Tendon Severing

The next morning.

The morning light stung Ye Huang’s eyes, leaving them sore. He opened them groggily, his brain feeling like mush as he looked around.

"What on earth happened last night?" As he recalled the events of the previous evening, his mind gradually retraced the memories, leaving him with a lingering sense of dread.

"A green dragon, a sword mark... I must have been delirious with fever to have such an absurd dream." Ye Huang did not dwell on it. The sect examination was in half a month, and every disciple was required to participate. Failing meant expulsion from the sect; he could barely look after himself, let alone worry about such fantasies!

Ye Huang picked up two wooden buckets and headed toward the river.

The stream babbled as it flowed. Ye Huang submerged the buckets three feet deep, filling one in moments. He set it aside and prepared to fill the next.

The water was as clear as a mirror. In the reflection, Ye Huang caught a glimpse of himself: strikingly handsome, with deep, piercing eyes and brows like sword blades. If there were a ranking for the most handsome men, he would certainly be on it. Unfortunately, in this world, only strength mattered; good looks could not put food on the table.

Suddenly, he looked at the center of his forehead. A distinct cyan sword mark was clearly visible. Ye Huang was stunned.

"A sword mark!"

Could it be that it wasn't a dream? Ye Huang was filled with immense shock; the scene from last night had been truly overwhelming.

Suddenly, a loud *thud*—the sound of a wooden bucket crashing heavily against the ground—interrupted his thoughts.

"A piece of trash like you is worthy of fetching water?"

Ye Huang looked up. The man was looking down at him, his nostrils flared in disdain. With a kick, he overturned the bucket. His eyes were sinister, his sharp teeth glinting coldly. Dressed in the robes of the Heavenly Martial Sect, he rolled up his sleeves, his sandbag-sized fist whistling through the air as he struck toward Ye Huang.

Luo Rui, an ordinary disciple of the Heavenly Martial Sect and one of Liu Xinyue’s bootlickers, often caused trouble for Ye Huang, relying on his fifth-level Spirit Martial cultivation.

Profound Energy!

This punch was clearly delivered with full force, drawing upon all of his Profound Energy. A single hit would mean death or permanent disability. How ruthless!

Ye Huang moved. Even without Profound Energy to draw upon, his combat skills were exceptionally sharp. He dodged the blow with hair-breadth precision.

Seeing Ye Huang evade him, Luo Rui was surprised, then enraged. "You piece of trash, you dare to dodge? Today, I’ll teach you what the rules are!"

He closed in rapidly, his fist slamming down again, determined to smash Ye Huang to pieces.

Ye Huang hunched over, narrowly escaping death once more, though the wind of the punch left a bloody gash on his face. With no time to spare, he seized the moment as Luo Rui’s momentum carried him forward. Ye Huang grabbed a sharp stone from the ground and drove it fiercely into the man's temple. If someone wanted him dead, he would ensure they didn't live to see it!

*Puff.* The sharp object pierced the skin, and blood gushed like a fountain. A hole had been opened in Luo Rui’s forehead, and he collapsed onto the ground, going still after a few moments.

Ye Huang gasped for air. He felt no physical discomfort at the act of killing; in the Heaven Profound Continent, the law of the jungle prevailed, and the Heavenly Martial Sect allowed private duels. If someone wanted to kill him, he had no reason to show mercy, for no one could guarantee that the next person lying on the ground wouldn't be himself.

"Out of breath already?" An ancient, deep voice resonated from within his heart.

Ye Huang’s heart trembled, his grip tightening on the stone. "Who? Who is speaking?"

"Are you looking for this Ancestor?" The voice startled Ye Huang. After a moment of calm, he asked again, "What kind of thing are you?"

The ancient voice echoed from the depths of his soul: "My name is Ancestral Dragon. Little one, have you not already seen my true form?"

"You are that green dragon?" Ye Huang was shocked. He never imagined that last night had not been a dream.

His expression remained calm, though he quickly accepted the fact; after all, there were many instances of powerful cultivators reincarnating or possessing others.

"I am just a piece of trash. I have nothing that you would want."

The ancient, gloomy voice showed no displeasure, responding greedily, "No, the taste of your Profound Energy is actually quite good."

Ye Huang’s expression changed drastically, his mouth twitching as an irrepressible fury surged within him. "Was the anomaly in my Dantian your doing? Are you the one who turned me into trash?"

"Indeed," the Ancestral Dragon replied lazily, seemingly indifferent.

Burning with rage, Ye Huang hissed, "I don't care what you are! Get the hell out of my Dantian!"

The Ancestral Dragon didn't show the slightest anger, instead sounding amused. "Little one, if it weren't for me, you would have died long ago. I am the one force-feeding you a breath of life. Do you understand?"

"What do you mean?" Ye Huang hesitated.

"Come and see for yourself." The ancient voice ceased, and Ye Huang’s consciousness was forcibly dragged into his Dantian.

"This is my Dantian?" Ye Huang gasped. The Dantian looked like a vast ocean. Within the expanse, a stone sword stood upright, shackled by tens of thousands of chains that seemed to be suppressing some kind of evil entity. The chains had left deep, indented grooves, appearing mottled and ancient.

There, Ye Huang saw the green dragon again. It was coiled in the air, its body stretching for ten thousand feet, bound by the chains as if it could not move an inch. It kept howling, "Pain! The pain!"

Ye Huang addressed it, "Ancestral Dragon, is it? What is this thing?" He did not know why he could understand the dragon's roar; it felt as if the dragon tongue were innate.

"I am the spirit of this sword. As you can see, my true form is sealed within your Dantian. I have been in a deep slumber for a million years. Three years ago, I awoke and consumed your Profound Energy for three years just to barely manifest here."

The Ancestral Dragon’s cyan-white eyes were turbid. He stared at Ye Huang, his voice hoarse. "Given your physical condition, once the seal shows signs of loosening, we are both finished."

Ye Huang laughed instead of getting angry. "Don't try to fool me. Why haven't I felt anything?"

The Ancestral Dragon roared, "I have been suppressing the pain! If you could feel it, you'd be dead! But the seal is destabilizing, and I can barely hold it back much longer." The dragon moved, and with the sound of clashing metal, the chains sank deeper into its flesh.

"The pain will soon pour out and flood your entire body. It will crush your bones and tear your muscles, as fragile as dry firewood. If you can endure it, you will be reborn, soar to the heavens, and perhaps even become the strongest person on this continent. If you cannot... you die!"

Ye Huang understood the situation. His eyes were resolute. Without a moment's hesitation, he said, "I, Ye Huang, have nothing but this wretched life. If it is as you say, then come!"

"Splendid!" The Ancestral Dragon flew into the sword like a shooting star. Moments later, the giant sword began to vibrate as if trying to break free from its shackles, the amplitude increasing until it stirred up massive waves.

The cyan sword mark on Ye Huang’s forehead flashed. A warm current surged into his internal organs, but before he could enjoy it, the current turned violent. Ye Huang felt a long-lost surge of Profound Energy from his Dantian, accompanied by suffocating, bone-deep agony.

It felt as if his very bones were being chiseled away. Ye Huang bit his lip hard, his heart tearing, but he refused to admit defeat.

Sweat poured down his forehead like rain. His entire body felt as if it were being shredded by fangs. There were no shrill screams; Ye Huang endured it in silence.

He wanted to become strong—strong at any cost. Even if it meant death, even if he had to endure a thousand times more pain, he would ensure that no one would ever be allowed to step on him again!

Time flowed like water. About ten hours passed, and dusk began to fall. Ye Huang climbed up from the rocky ground, looking at his sturdy, well-defined muscles. His features were sharper and more peerless than ever. He felt light, his bones as strong as tempered steel. The filth had been washed from his body, and his cultivation had reached the ninth level of the Spirit Martial realm—only one step away from the Profound Martial realm.

More importantly, he was now surrounded by Profound Energy. He could use it!

"Hahaha!" Ye Huang laughed out loud, tears of joy streaming down his face. The mocking and ridicule of the past echoed in his mind, but they were gone, never to return.

"Little one, you are more tenacious than I imagined!" The Ancestral Dragon breathed a sigh of relief. Indeed, the Indestructible Divine Sword would not choose a mediocre host.

"By the way, Brother Ancestral Dragon, where are you?"

"I am within your Dantian. I can see everything you experience."

"Why is the Profound Energy on my body black?" Looking at his thick, dark energy, Ye Huang threw a punch, shattering a small mountain-sized valley. He asked in confusion, "Shouldn't it be white?"

The Ancestral Dragon replied calmly, "You possess the 'Indestructible Divine Meridian.' Naturally, it is extraordinary."

Profound Meridians were the foundation of a cultivator's talent, ranked from one to nine.

"Judging by the name, it must be very strong! What grade is it?" Ye Huang asked suddenly.

"Grade-less! Precisely because it has no grade, its potential is defined by you." Ye Huang was astonished. A grade-less meridian that could be improved! It was unheard of.

The Ancestral Dragon looked at the corpse on the ground and shifted the subject. "What will you do about this?"

Ye Huang knew what he meant. A cold light flashed in his eyes. "Someone will clean it up for us."

Luo Rui liked to cause trouble, but he had never gone this far—trying to kill him. Luo Rui was likely just a blade; someone was hiding in the shadows, using that blade to kill.

Ye Huang took a step, moving with incredible speed as he darted into the mountain forest. The forest was filled with demonic beasts at night, and he was hungry. He would settle this debt sooner or later.

As he vanished into the darkness, the surroundings fell silent once more. Before long, rustling sounds began to emerge...