I forge eternal life with the Dao seed

Vol. 1 Ch. 16

In the dense forest, the black, overweight man and the young eagle-nosed man, both poised and ready for action, were stunned upon witnessing Zhao Heng's battle power.

Since the beginning of the servant assessment, they had never clashed with Zhao Heng.

The only information they had gathered about him was from Elder Liu, who had told them that Zhao Heng had reached the sixth level of Body Tempering a month ago.

Although Zhao Heng had previously displayed his skills, killing five people, the two had attributed it to the effects of quicklime and Softening Powder, dismissing his strength entirely.

However, the moment they engaged in combat, Zhao Heng’s power far exceeded their expectations.

The sheer strength and speed he demonstrated could only be achieved by a martial artist at the ninth level of Body Tempering.

But how could he possibly have reached the ninth level from the sixth level in just one month?

What they didn’t know was that Zhao Heng’s true cultivation was actually at the eighth level of Body Tempering, and he had just broken through last night.

However, due to the perfected version of the Qing Song Technique, his vitality was far greater than that of others at the same level, allowing him to display strength equivalent to a ninth-level Body Tempering martial artist.

Since the battle had begun, Zhao Heng wasn’t going to offer any explanations.

He pushed his inner vitality to the extreme, the perfect cycle of the Qing Song Technique accelerating rapidly. His attacks grew fiercer, and the black, overweight man found himself unable to keep up.

"Spirit Wind Palm!"

The man shouted, transforming his fist into a palm. His palms alternated in rapid succession, creating a gust of wind that was as fast as lightning.

At this critical moment, the black, overweight man disregarded the strain on his vitality and unleashed a set of inferior-grade martial skills.

Though he was only a beginner, among martial artists of the same level who hadn't trained in martial techniques, he still held an advantage.

Unfortunately for him, Zhao Heng showed no mercy.

"Crackstone Fist!"

Zhao Heng clenched his fists tightly, his feet firmly planted as though rooted to the ground. He struck with fists that felt as powerful as a collapsing mountain!

"Boom...!"

The fists and palms collided head-on with a deafening sound, but Zhao Heng stood firm, unyielding.

The black, overweight man’s palms felt as if they had been shocked by electricity. His body staggered backward, his face flushed as he felt his vitality almost overturned by a tremendous force.

Taking advantage of this, Zhao Heng followed up with a heavy second punch aimed directly at the man’s throat.

The black, overweight man’s pupils contracted, fear flashing in his eyes.

Just then, a figure darted forward.

"Crushing Heart Claw!"

It was the eagle-nosed young man who made his move.

His claw struck out with a sharpness akin to a knife, more powerful than the black, overweight man's Spirit Wind Palm.

"Bang!"

The fist and claw clashed, causing Zhao Heng to stagger slightly. Five blood marks appeared on his fist, causing a dull pain.

Yet the eagle-nosed young man was forced to retreat several steps, his fingers twitching as his entire arm began to feel numb.

The impact from that strike had felt like he was clawing at solid stone, his fingers nearly breaking.

"How can this be? This guy is also using the Crackstone Fist, which is only an inferior-grade technique. How does it have such power? Could it be that he has already cultivated it to the Lesser Mastery stage?"

The eagle-nosed young man couldn’t fathom this, but Zhao Heng had indeed improved the Crackstone Fist to an intermediate level of the inferior grade. Its power and level were leagues ahead of its original form.

"Let's attack together! We must kill him!"

At this point, the eagle-nosed young man was no longer merely following Elder Liu’s orders.

If Zhao Heng wasn’t killed today, even if he wasn’t killed by Zhao Heng himself, having such a sinister and ruthless enemy would turn every night into a nightmare.

In the next moment, the black, overweight man and the eagle-nosed young man launched a joint assault.

One attacked with palms like a raging storm, while the other swung claws like a razor. They came at Zhao Heng from both sides.

Faced with their encirclement, Zhao Heng's eyes gleamed with sharpness. He didn’t retreat but advanced, meeting their attack with his Crackstone Fist, roaring forward like the wind.

Although Zhao Heng could be anxious and worried, often fearing that someone might try to harm him, it didn’t mean he was timid.

On the contrary, in order to eliminate these anxieties, he would go to any lengths, even at the cost of his enemies’ lives, to deal with those who posed a threat to him.

Zhao Heng’s senses were sharply attuned to the danger, and in an instant, his body reacted.

His hands moved in a blur, grabbing the black-gold leopard-head knife at his waist. With a swift, almost imperceptible movement, he turned to face the incoming cold rays.

The three projectiles were a blur of light, but Zhao Heng’s speed was far beyond what his opponents had expected. As the rays closed in, his body seemed to move with a fluid grace, evading the direct path of the strikes.

He could feel the danger of the three attacks, each targeting a vital point with deadly precision. There was no room for error.

Zhao Heng’s heart raced as his instincts kicked in. He shifted his weight and bent his knees slightly, preparing to use the full power of his physical strength and his martial arts skills to deal with the threat.

With one clean motion, he sidestepped the first ray aimed at his head and swung the black-gold leopard-head knife in a wide arc, blocking the second attack that was headed for his neck.

The knife’s blade clashed against the cold ray with a sharp sound, creating sparks in the air. He twisted his wrist, redirecting the attack to the side.

But just as he thought he had deflected the first two, the third ray was already bearing down on him from behind. Zhao Heng’s eyes widened in surprise. He had misjudged the speed, and the third strike was coming far too fast.

In a desperate move, Zhao Heng rolled forward, dodging at the last second, but the ray grazed his shoulder, leaving a thin, deep cut that stung like fire. His muscles burned with pain as the poison from the Softening Powder began to affect his body, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it.

The assailant who had launched the attack was already stepping forward, their figure emerging from the shadows. It was a man with a menacing grin, his eyes filled with malicious intent.

"You’re quite fast," the man said with a laugh, his voice cold and mocking. "But you're still too slow."

Zhao Heng narrowed his eyes. This man was no ordinary opponent. His aura was terrifying, and he could tell that the man was a martial artist at the ninth level of Body Tempering, much like the black, overweight man and the eagle-nosed youth. However, his skill was on a different level—much more refined and deadly.

"Who are you?" Zhao Heng asked, his voice low, his eyes scanning for an opening.

The man simply smiled and raised his hand, showing a pair of gleaming daggers, their edges reflecting the light in the forest.

"I'm your worst nightmare," the man replied, his grin widening as he prepared for another attack.

The man with the gleaming daggers stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. Zhao Heng’s heart raced as he assessed the situation. The man’s movements were smooth and calculated, showing no signs of hesitation or doubt. Zhao Heng could tell this was someone with real skill.

Without wasting any more time, the man lunged toward Zhao Heng with a burst of speed, his daggers slashing toward Zhao Heng’s chest.

Zhao Heng’s muscles tensed, ready to react. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by his wound. His body moved with precision, narrowly dodging the man’s first strike, then countering with a punch from his left hand, aiming for the man’s exposed side.

But the man was too quick. He twisted his body, dodging the punch with ease, and slashed with his daggers in a swift, deadly arc. The sound of the blades cutting through the air was like a death knell.

Zhao Heng’s instincts screamed at him to move, and he spun, narrowly avoiding the attack that would have split his ribs. As the man followed through with another deadly swipe, Zhao Heng’s hand shot out, grabbing the dagger’s hilt with lightning speed. The force of the strike caused his muscles to scream in protest, but Zhao Heng held on, refusing to let go.

The two struggled in the middle of the forest, their every move a dance of life and death. Zhao Heng’s body was pushed to its limits as he parried, blocked, and countered with the black-gold leopard-head knife.

He could feel the pain from the earlier strike, the poison from the Softening Powder slowly working its way through his system, but he refused to let it slow him down. He was determined to win this battle.

With a surge of energy, Zhao Heng pushed the man back, breaking free from their deadly stalemate. He stepped back, eyeing the man warily.

"You’re a skilled fighter," Zhao Heng said through gritted teeth. "But it won’t be enough to take me down."

The man smiled, a cold, twisted grin. "We’ll see about that."

With a roar, the man lunged again, his daggers flashing through the air with deadly precision. Zhao Heng’s eyes narrowed, his body coiling with anticipation. He was ready.

The man surged forward with terrifying speed, his daggers slicing through the air in a deadly arc aimed directly at Zhao Heng's chest and throat. The flashing blades came at him with unrelenting force, as if they were trying to tear through the very fabric of his being.

Zhao Heng’s heart pounded, and his mind raced, calculating his next move. He could feel the poison from the Softening Powder spreading, his body growing heavier, but it only served to fuel his determination. He had no intention of losing here, not when he was so close to his goal.

With a swift pivot, Zhao Heng twisted his body, narrowly dodging the first dagger that came for his chest. The second dagger aimed for his throat, but Zhao Heng used his black-gold leopard-head knife to intercept the strike. Sparks flew as the daggers clashed against the knife’s blade.

The impact sent a shockwave through Zhao Heng’s arm, but he gritted his teeth and pushed forward, his own weapon striking with deadly force. He swung the leopard-head knife in a wide arc, aiming for the man’s exposed side.

But the man was fast. He sidestepped, his eyes gleaming with malice. The battle was far from over.

Zhao Heng didn’t hesitate. He knew this would be a fight to the death. He pressed forward with renewed ferocity, his body moving like a blur as he unleashed a series of rapid strikes with the black-gold leopard-head knife. Each blow was precise, calculated, designed to find an opening.

The man was quick to respond, his daggers flashing like lightning as he parried and countered with terrifying skill. The forest seemed to hold its breath as the two combatants clashed, each strike echoing through the trees.

Zhao Heng could feel the strain on his body as the poison from the Softening Powder began to take its toll. His movements were slower, less fluid, but he refused to give up. His instincts were sharpened, his mind clear, and his resolve stronger than ever.

As they fought, Zhao Heng’s thoughts flashed back to the countless hours of training, the trials he had overcome, the battles he had won. All of it had led to this moment. This was his test, his time to prove himself.

With a sudden surge of strength, Zhao Heng pushed the man back, creating a brief opening. The man faltered for just a split second, but it was enough.

Zhao Heng didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward with all his remaining strength, his leopard-head knife slashing in a deadly arc toward the man’s throat.

The man’s eyes widened in shock, realizing too late that he had been outmaneuvered. The leopard-head knife cut through the air with deadly precision, and in an instant, the blade was at the man’s throat.

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