Vagrant Alliance

There were still some days until the Xuanyao auction. Lin Zhao found a break in the foot traffic and briskly set up his stall.

There was no separate stall fee; it had long been included in the entry liquor money for that bowl of "Huben Brew." To enter the black market at Xuanyao Tavern, one first had to spend a tael of silver on a bowl of "qualification wine." It was called drinking, but in truth, it bought a pass into the rear courtyard's trading area, along with the right to use this three-foot-square stall.

"Xuanyao Tavern is probably raking in enough wealth to rival a nation." Lin Zhao arranged three Mystic Iron waist sabers he had forged himself before him, his fingertips tracing the dense hundred-refinement hammer patterns along the blades. Hidden within every pattern were Pulse Protecting Fine Marks he had forged in according to his family's secret formula. They could make a martial artist's internal breath flow more smoothly when wielding a blade. The thought left him muttering inwardly.

Compared to Xuanyao Tavern, Ruibao House in Northern Garrison City was practically a peddler hawking wares by the roadside.

He made a rough estimate. The entry liquor money from this Northern Garrison City branch alone brought in no less than three thousand taels of pure silver a day, amounting to over a million taels a year. That was nearly equal to the annual income of a first-rate earl's fief, and it did not even include the commission drawn from black-market transactions.

When his father had still been alive, he had considered investing in Xuanyao Tavern, even if he could only own one-thousandth of a share. But his father had already held the hereditary military post of Centurion then. He had traveled through Xuanyao Tavern branches across all thirteen northern and southern provinces, yet never found a way to buy in.

He had heard that Xuanyao Tavern had been established in the early years of the dynasty's founding and had never accepted new shareholders. The waters beneath it were deep enough to drown a martial family.

"Little brother, how much for these sabers?" A burly man wearing a white wolfskin mask quietly appeared before the stall. He kept his voice extremely low, his knuckles unconsciously brushing the flexible sword at his waist. The scabbard gleamed with the luster of Mystic Iron, clearly a fine weapon tempered with internal breath. He obviously did not wish to reveal his identity—a martial wanderer of the jianghu.

Lin Zhao lowered his voice as well and tapped the blade with a fingertip. "Hundred Refinements Mystic Iron Sabers. The blades are forged with Pulse Protecting Fine Marks, which smooth a martial master's internal breath. Eight taels of silver each, no bargaining. If you need weapons suited to fierce or soft internal breath, or armor purchased in bulk, that can be arranged as well. But you will need to provide detailed blueprints and clearly mark the internal breath conduction requirements."

Hearing this, the man reached out and lifted one saber. With a slight flick of his wrist, the blade gave a faint hum, clearly testing how well it bore internal breath. Then he curled his lip. "Two taels more expensive than Ruibao House's ordinary Mystic Iron sabers. Not worth it." With that, he turned and melted into the bustling crowd within the tavern without even sparing it another glance.

Lin Zhao was in no hurry. He knew exactly what his sabers were worth. Their blades were made from Northern Desert Fine Iron and had been hammered eighty-two times under his repeated forging. When quenching the edge, he had even added Mystic Dragon Gall Powder. An ordinary newly advanced martial master using this saber could cleave through common Bincheng Iron Armor like slicing tofu. Eight taels of silver was truly not expensive.

Those who could enter Xuanyao Tavern were either local gentry who held martial authority or bounty martial masters and escorts from all over. There would always be someone who knew quality when they saw it.

Sure enough, before half an incense stick's time had passed, a burly man built like an iron tower stopped before the stall. He wore a Bincheng Iron face-covering helmet, exposing only a pair of sharply gleaming eyes. At his waist hung a Mystic Iron chained meteor hammer as thick as a bowl's rim. The hammer head bore the two characters "Mountain Splitting," while its chain was forged from Western Region cold iron. It hung heavily at his waist. As he walked, his internal breath made the chain tremble slightly, and it even gave off a cold glint.

Just from the aura radiating from him—his internal breath rolling like muffled thunder, making even the surrounding air seem pressed into stillness—Lin Zhao knew he was a Peak Martial Master. He was three parts stronger than Iron Mask, who had sold him Pangolin Dragon Essence last time. He was likely only one step away from becoming an Entering Grandmaster Warrior.

"I heard you can custom forge weapons and armor suited to martial internal breath?" the man asked. His voice was like a great bell, and internal breath carried his words, making Lin Zhao's ears tingle faintly. Even the cloth curtain over the stall swayed.

Lin Zhao raised his head. Beneath his Mystic Iron Rakshasa Mask, his brows lifted slightly as thoughts began turning in his mind. Another Peak Martial Master. Judging from the style of that meteor hammer, he practices a fierce technique like Mountain Splitting Force. His internal breath is powerful and robust. A custom weapon will need a thicker spine and several more Resistance Patterns.

"That's right." He answered crisply, tapping the Pulse Protecting Pattern on the blade. "As long as you have detailed blueprints and clearly mark the martial master's internal breath attributes—whether it is fierce, soft, or steady—I can forge weapons, armor, even hidden weapons and mechanisms. The weapons I forge can withstand eighty percent of a Peak Martial Master's internal breath without cracking."

The man lifted another saber. This time, he directly poured thirty percent of his internal breath into it. The blade rang out with a long hum, yet not a single crack appeared. His tone finally grew more even. "It seems Your Excellency is a blacksmith who understands the martial path, not some ordinary craftsman who only knows how to hammer iron."

"More or less. I make a living off my craft and save a little medicine money for cultivation along the way." Lin Zhao smiled, his tone carrying a measure of frankness. In a black market crowded with martial artists, frankness was instead the best camouflage.

"I'll take these two sabers." As the man spoke, he flipped his wrist and five full horseshoe-shaped silver ingots crashed onto the stall with a clang. The ingots pressed a depression into the coarse cloth—exactly enough for the two sabers at sixteen taels, with four taels extra as a deposit for a long-term partnership. "In addition, I want to place a long-term order with you. The weapons and armor you forge are to be sold to me first. You are not to resell them to other martial families or military camps under feudal kings. The price is negotiable—I will pay twenty percent above market value. If you can forge weapons suited to Dragon Realm internal breath, I will add another fifty percent."

Lin Zhao's eyes lit up. This truly relieved his pressing need. His forging business now had a steady outlet, and he would have a source of money for spiritual medicines and future cultivation.

He immediately nodded. "Done! The trading location will be the rear courtyard of Xuanyao Tavern. For every delivery, I'll come here and wait three days in advance."

He did not trust transactions outside. At his current realm of having only just entered Martial Master, if he truly encountered a Peak Martial Master who robbed him black-market style, he likely would not even have a chance to flee while protecting the weapons.

But Xuanyao Tavern had ironclad rules: fighting was strictly forbidden within the building. Violators would have their internal breath crippled on the spot by the tavern's reclusive Grandmaster Warriors. Even a feudal king's personal guards had to obey the rules here. There could be nowhere safer.

"Very well. May our partnership prosper." The man nodded, his knuckles tapping the edge of the stall. "May I ask how to address Your Excellency? It will be easier to call for you when we make deliveries in the future."

Lin Zhao touched the Mystic Iron Rakshasa Mask on his face and casually made up an alias. "Rakshasa Shen Luo."

"Very well, Mister Shen Luo." The man took a stack of folded leather blueprints from his robes and handed them over. The blueprints marked the dimensions of sabers, spears, and armor, with the key internal breath conduction areas deliberately circled in red. "On the final day of every third month, I'll come to Xuanyao Tavern to find you. I require no small quantity. Besides weapons and armor, there is also tack suited to Western Frontier Snow-Treading Colts. Make it all according to the blueprints. The tack must withstand martial master internal breath reinforcement, so the mounts are not injured by the jolts of riding."

After a pause, he leaned half a step closer and lowered his voice further, carrying a trace of probing intent. "By the way, does Your Excellency Shen Luo have any interest... in joining a most promising 'martial righteous cause'? Once it succeeds, you will receive no less than a complete set of body-tempering spiritual medicines for entering Grandmaster Warrior, and you may even become the disciple of a Legendary Master Warrior."

"Not interested." Lin Zhao did not even think before cutting him off. His mind was currently full of practicing the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique and searching for the Mystic Ice Breathing Technique. He had no desire to get dragged into any "righteous cause." What if it was some treasonous affair? Would that not drag Lin Family Fortress down with him?

The man froze, clearly not expecting such a clean refusal. Then he gave a low laugh, his internal breath making the beard beneath his mask stir. "If you change your mind later, tell me when you make the next delivery." With that, he picked up the two Mystic Iron Sabers. The Mystic Iron meteor hammer at his waist swayed as he turned and strode from Xuanyao Tavern. The airflow driven by his internal breath made the cloth curtains at the surrounding stalls rustle loudly.

Watching his retreating figure, Lin Zhao was overjoyed. It worked! I finally have a secure outlet! With my skill in forging Pulse Protecting Patterns, why would I worry that no one wants my work? No one recognized quality when I forged sabers at Lin Family Fortress, but here in the black market, gold truly does shine!

He pondered it. That man possessed fierce internal breath, wanted a large quantity of armor and weapons, and had even tried to recruit him. He was likely part of some secret martial organization preparing arms in the shadows—but what did that have to do with him?

He wore a Mystic Iron mask and used an alias. Even if the other party truly intended to do something, it could not implicate him. He only needed to forge weapons, take silver, and focus on cultivation.

At the same time, in a secluded martial master's residence in the northwest corner of Northern Garrison City, the man who had just traded with Lin Zhao removed his Bincheng Iron face-covering helmet, revealing a face covered in saber scars. An old wound stretched from his left brow bone to his jaw, and the scar still faintly glowed pale red with condensed internal breath, making it look exceptionally savage.

He dropped to one knee upon the bluestone floor. In the middle of the hall before him, a bare-chested, burly man sat cross-legged on a Mystic Iron meditation cushion, breathing in and out. His bronze skin was covered with knotted muscles. With every breath, pale white internal breath could be seen rising and falling between the muscles of his chest like a dragon exhaling. Even the nearby candle flames flickered with his breathing.

"Branch Master, this subordinate of the Black Bear Guard has found another master craftsman who understands martial forging. We have agreed upon a long-term partnership. He can forge weapons suitable for Peak Martial Masters and can add Pulse Protecting Patterns," the man said with his head lowered. His tone was respectful, and he deliberately restrained even his internal breath, afraid of disturbing the other man's breathing exercise.

The burly man slowly opened his eyes, sharp light flashing within them. When he stood, internal breath coiled around his body like a dragon and stirred up a breeze. He was fully eight feet tall, built like a small iron tower. Even the kneeling Black Bear Guard appeared half a head shorter before him.

As he pulled on fine iron armor forged with Mountain Splitting Patterns, he spoke in a rough voice like grinding stone, carrying the tremor of internal breath. "Well done, Black Bear Guard. I am very satisfied with your recent work. Wild God above, He will surely see your loyalty. When our Vagrant Alliance rises in revolt, you will claim the foremost merit."

This burly man was Zhou Xuan, branch master of the Vagrant Alliance Northern Garrison Branch. His internal breath had already reached the threshold of the Dragon Realm, making him a formidable expert within the Desolate God Society.

"It has been some time since I visited the main altar. I wonder how our Vagrant Alliance's preparations of weapons and armor are progressing?" Zhou Xuan lifted his head, his tone carrying urgency. He had awaited the day of rebellion for three years.

Black Bear Guard hurriedly replied, "Reporting to Branch Master, our Vagrant Alliance currently has two thousand five hundred sets of Mystic Iron armor, three thousand internal breath conduction sabers, and one thousand Western Frontier Snow-Treading Colts—fine horses capable of bearing Peak Martial Master internal breath reinforcement. Over these years, we have found more than fifty martial forging masters across the northern provinces and prefectures, having them work day and night to manufacture armor and weapons. We have also purchased many retired military-standard weapons from the Northern Desert black markets. We seek to expand the martial camp as quickly as possible. Once the main altar gives the order, we will be able to seize Northern Garrison City!"

He himself was the leader in charge of the Vagrant Alliance's procurement and manufacture of armor and weapons. Besides being a Peak Martial Master, he also understood internal breath adaptation forging techniques and could tell whether a weapon suited a martial technique. That was why he had personally gone to Xuanyao Tavern to seek a reliable craftsman. Ordinary blacksmiths only knew how to hammer iron—how could they forge weapons capable of bearing a Peak Martial Master's internal breath?

Branch Master Zhou nodded, then frowned. His knuckles clenched until they turned white, while internal breath gathered into a pale cloud in his palm. "Not enough, still not enough! To overturn those martial families and feudal kings who monopolize the northern lands' martial resources, we need at least ten thousand fully armed martial cavalrymen, over a hundred martial masters capable of charging into battle, and top experts who can contend with those families' Entering Grandmaster Warriors!"

He clenched his fists, his voice filled with blazing anticipation. "I am only one final step away from becoming an Entering Grandmaster Warrior. As long as I obtain one more Ink Flood Dragon Body Tempering Pill and guide my internal breath through the Ren and Du meridians, I can break through. Once I become a Grandmaster Warrior, our Vagrant Alliance will have two Grandmaster Warriors holding the fort. Then we will no longer need to act so furtively, even when forging armor and weapons!"

"Congratulations, Branch Master!" Genuine excitement appeared on Black Bear Guard's face. His knees pressed down slightly, leaving fine cracks even in the bluestone floor. "With you holding the fort, Branch Master, and with the divine envoy's aid, our Vagrant Alliance will surely overthrow the martial families' monopoly and give all northern martial artists a fair chance to cultivate!"

Branch Master Zhou waved a hand, suddenly recalling something. He took an ancient ebony jug from his robes. Dense Breath Infusion Patterns were carved across its surface, capable of slowly nourishing internal breath. It looked to be several decades old.

"Right, the last transaction with the divine envoy went smoothly. Thanks to Him, I rose from High-Rank Martial Master to Peak Martial Master, and my Mountain Splitting Breathing Technique advanced another level. My internal breath became thirty percent more condensed. I estimate that to break through into Entering Grandmaster Warrior, I will need the divine envoy to act once more and find me an Ink Flood Dragon Body Tempering Pill. You must make another trip to the main altar for this matter and clearly explain our urgent need to the divine envoy."

Year 23 of Jiajing, the twenty-ninth day of Grain Rain Month—the final day when late spring's vitality had not yet entirely faded.

Xuanyao Tavern's monthly auction commenced as scheduled in the building's main hall.

Hosting the auction was Xuanyao Tavern's famed proprietress of the northern lands, Su Meiniang.

She wore a water-red silk jacket embroidered at the collar with curling lotus patterns. Her waist was cinched tightly, accentuating her lush and graceful figure. As she walked, her internal breath stirred faintly, giving even the hem of her skirt a gentle rhythm. Under the blazing gazes of the martial artists filling the hall, she stepped elegantly onto the central platform. "The auction begins." Her crisp voice carried a subtle tremor of internal breath, instantly suppressing the hall's clamor.

Lin Zhao wore a Mystic Iron Rakshasa Mask as he sat in a corner of the last row, his fingers quietly touching the silver pouch in his robes. After spending eight hundred taels on Earth Dragon Yuan, he had just over two hundred taels remaining. At this auction, he feared he could win at most one item.

After all, those who could set foot in Xuanyao Tavern were either wealthy or powerful, all prominent figures of the northern border. There were descendants of martial families, garrison officers, and martial merchants who controlled ore veins. Which of them could not casually throw out a thousand taels of silver?

In these times, nobles and meritorious officials were everywhere, but without martial cultivation to support them, no matter how lofty one's honors were, they could not cow others.

Looking around, there were at least ten Peak Martial Masters in the hall, their auras so heavy they could crush ordinary martial artists until they struggled to breathe.

Xuanyao Tavern held an auction once every month, with ten fixed lots, most of which were consigned for sale by the tavern's Xuanyao members.

Lin Zhao had already inquired clearly. By paying five hundred taels of silver at once, one could become a Xuanyao member of Xuanyao Tavern, valid for five years.

During the period of validity, not only would the fifty-tael entrance fee for each auction be waived, but the ten percent handling fee on successful bids would also be exempted. Members could also receive priority information on rare martial materials.

Those damned wealthy nobles were probably members nine times out of ten.

For example, when his father was alive, he had been an old member of the tavern. Back when his father had broken through to Entering Martial Master through the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique and was granted the title Mystic Dragon Centurion, he had spent five hundred taels of silver for membership. Unfortunately, membership could not be inherited. Once his father passed, Lin Zhao could only be an ordinary spectator, unable even to sit closer to the front.

The first auction item was carried up by an attendant. It was a three-foot-long Bincheng Iron waist saber. Its scabbard was wrapped in sharkskin, and its hilt bound with anti-slip cord. One look told him it was a practical weapon often used in actual combat.

With Lin Zhao's current level as a Third Rank Martial Arts Blacksmith Apprentice—he could independently forge weapons with Pulse Protecting Patterns—he saw the saber's secrets at a glance. The blade had undergone hundred-refinement forging, and its internal breath conduction lines were exceptionally smooth, far beyond his current craftsmanship. It had surely come from the hands of a Martial Grandmaster Artisan.

Moreover, the saber's style was ancient and simple, its edge carrying a faint green glow. It resembled workmanship from a century ago and bore the forging traces of the Red Fire Anvil lineage.

Su Meiniang's soft, alluring voice rang through the hall. Amplified by internal breath, it could be heard clearly in every corner. "This was the personal saber of a Qi Family Army centurion from a hundred years ago. It was forged personally by Zhao Hai, the Martial Grandmaster Artisan known as Red Fire Anvil, from the Imperial Household Department. Back then, Grandmaster Zhao was the very man who forged the Dragon Pattern Imperial Saber for the late emperor. This saber can bear eighty percent of a Peak Martial Master's internal breath without breaking. Whether used to kill enemies on the battlefield or kept at home as a martial collectible, it is an item of the finest quality. The starting price is two hundred taels of silver. Each increase must be no less than ten taels."

The moment her words fell, the atmosphere throughout the hall instantly heated up. Many martial artists straightened in their seats, their eyes fixed firmly on the saber.

"Good heavens, the very first item is already this formidable! Red Fire Anvil's craftsmanship has had few equals in the northern lands for a hundred years!"

"I saw his name in the Northern Martial Arts Hundred Crafts Record. They say the sabers he forged could cleave Mystic Iron like mud and could even help martial artists nourish their internal breath!"

A middle-aged blacksmith in short work clothes clicked his tongue as he leaned close to his companion's ear, his fingers unconsciously making forging gestures. His greatest wish in life was to touch the threshold of a Martial Grandmaster Artisan.

Lin Zhao was secretly astonished as well.

Over the past year, he had learned the craft from the old blacksmiths at Lin Family Fortress. In his spare time, he had heard old forging tales from Zhao Tieying and read books such as The Exploitation of the Works of Nature: Martial Forging Volume and the Northern Forging Records.

This Zhao Hai of Red Fire Anvil had indeed been a resounding Martial Grandmaster Artisan of the northern lands a hundred years ago. He was especially skilled at integrating Breath Infusion Patterns into weapons, allowing even ordinary Mystic Iron Sabers to suit the internal breath of High-Rank Martial Masters.

Speaking of it, martial blacksmiths did not have clear rank divisions like military households did, but those in the trade still divided them into three levels according to skill:

-The lowest were Martial Arts Blacksmith Apprentices. They could forge ordinary weapons and understood basic Resistance Patterns. Lin Zhao was currently at this level. With his foundation in forging Pulse Protecting Patterns, he counted as an advanced apprentice. To complete his apprenticeship and become a Formal Martial Artisan, he only needed to independently forge a suit of armor bearing Breath Infusion Patterns.

-Above them were Formal Martial Artisans. They could independently forge weapons and armor suited to the internal breath of newly advanced Martial Masters. Zhang Laochui of Lin Family Fortress was one such person. The chainmail Zhao Tieying wore had been forged by Zhang Laochui; when struck by a saber, it could deflect thirty percent of the internal breath.

Unfortunately, Zhang Laochui had been abducted by the Mountain Breaker Gang last month. They said they intended to force him to forge weapons for the gang members. Lin Zhao would settle that debt sooner or later.

-The peak figures among blacksmiths were the Martial Grandmaster Artisans recognized by the trade. They could forge divine weapons suited to the internal breath of Entering Grandmaster Warriors and could even integrate Martial Path Secret Patterns into weapons, such as Mountain Splitting Patterns and Cold Edge Patterns, giving the weapon its own special internal breath effects.

For such people, nobles and military households seeking weapons could line up all the way to the end of the street every day. No matter which military town or martial family they were in, they were treasured like precious jewels. Even garrison deputy generals had to be courteous upon meeting them.

The gap between a Formal Martial Artisan and a Martial Grandmaster Artisan was like the gulf between an ordinary soldier of a military household and a centurion. Out of ten blacksmiths, there might not even be one grandmaster artisan.

In the end, the waist saber forged by the grandmaster artisan was purchased by a young heir of a martial family in brocade robes for one thousand eight hundred taels of silver. After winning the bid, the youth immediately infused the saber with internal breath to test it. The blade gave a long hum, and even the air was split with fine fissures, drawing cheers throughout the hall.

Watching this, Lin Zhao understood clearly: the saber's materials and workmanship might not have been worth three hundred taels. Most of the value had been raised by the three words Red Fire Anvil. The reputation of a Martial Grandmaster Artisan was more precious than anything. What the buyer wanted was the prestige brought by a grandmaster artisan's weapon, along with its value as a collectible.

He clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened, becoming even more determined to endure the hardships of honing his forging art. Once I become a Martial Grandmaster Artisan too, forget a thousand taels—I could earn tens of thousands of taels of silver. Then neither Lin Family Fortress's armaments nor my own cultivation resources will be a concern. Only then will I truly have no worries over food or clothing.

The second auction item was a suit of Mountain Pattern Armor. Its armor plates glimmered with a dark black sheen, layered tightly over one another.

According to Su Meiniang, the plates had been made with Cold Iron Mystic Steel from the Qilian Mountains, with a small piece of Meteorite Iron the size of a fingernail mixed in. Cold Iron Mystic Steel was three times tougher than ordinary fine iron, but its melting point was extremely high, requiring a martial master to use internal breath to fuel the charcoal fire during forging.

As for Meteorite Iron, it was an even rarer treasure in the northern lands. It could only possibly be found where heavenly meteors had fallen. It made armor more stable when bearing internal breath and reduced the consumption of a martial artist's power. Even Entering Grandmaster Warriors regarded it as a priceless treasure.

This suit of Mountain Pattern Armor was ultimately bought by a centurion from a military town for three thousand four hundred and eighty taels of silver. After winning the bid, the centurion immediately had an attendant try it on. Once internal breath was infused, the armor plates glowed pale white. Even his personal Mystic Iron Saber left only a shallow mark when it struck the armor.

Lin Zhao mused inwardly, This armor looks flashy, but compared to my Mystic Ice Secret Pattern Armor, it is worlds apart! Most of my armor is made from Meteorite Iron, and it carries the two secret pattern arts Armor Shrinking Secret Art and Afterimage Guarding Stance. If its value were truly measured, how could ordinary silver possibly quantify it? It is only because I cannot use it. Otherwise, if I wore it, an ordinary martial master's attacks would not be able to break through its defense at all!

At last, the auction item he cared about most came up.

Su Meiniang picked up two yellowed thread-bound booklets, her fingers gently brushing the words on their covers. In a soft voice, she said, "Everyone, these next two items are family-inherited martial breathing exercises being sold together: the Mystic Wolf Breathing Technique of Mystic Wolf Fortress and the Black Bear Breathing Technique of Black Bear Stockade.

"These are both lower-grade techniques bound by bloodline, and only those of the respective family bloodlines can cultivate them. The starting price is one hundred taels of silver, with each increase no less than one tael.

"Though they are not top-tier techniques, they are still martial secret manuals passed down by martial families. Any guests who enjoy collecting such techniques or wish to study bloodline martial arts may wish to consider them."

She was clearly afraid they would not sell and deliberately added a few extra words. To outsiders, bloodline-bound techniques were useless books. Who would spend silver on booklets they could not cultivate?

Lin Zhao's heart stirred at the words. He had not expected the family techniques put up for auction to be those of neighboring Mystic Wolf Fortress and Black Bear Stockade.

Mystic Wolf Fortress and Black Bear Stockade were both small martial families of the northern lands. Last winter, they had been harassed by Mystic Mane Fierce Wolves, with over half their male members killed or wounded. The remaining descendants must have been so poor that they had no choice but to sell even their ancestral breathing exercises.

"These are crude techniques that require compatible bloodlines to cultivate. Other than me—perhaps the Proficiency Panel can break the bloodline restrictions—who would waste money on this?" A smile curved Lin Zhao's lips as his fingers quietly pressed against the edge of the table, ready to bid.

Sure enough, the nobles and military households below discussed it for a while, but few truly bid.

Some shook their heads, some sneered, and others quietly remarked that buying this thing would be worse than buying two catties of body-tempering medicine.

A few scattered bids were made, but once the price reached one hundred and ten taels, no one followed further.

When Lin Zhao raised the price to one hundred and twenty taels, the hall fell completely silent. Even Su Meiniang paused in surprise before smiling and bringing down the hammer. "One hundred and twenty taels. The masked guest in the last row wins the bid!"

He successfully acquired the two family breathing exercises, calculating inwardly that the price was still reasonable.

If they had been breathing exercises without bloodline restrictions, even lower-grade ones, he would never be able to obtain them without several thousand taels of silver. Martial artists of the northern lands all knew that techniques were the root. A good breathing exercise was more precious than a divine weapon.

For members of the family, this sort of inherited bloodline technique was a treasure. To outsiders, it was a chicken rib—tasteless to eat, yet a pity to discard. With war and chaos everywhere these days, who would spend silver on booklets they could not cultivate?

It was better to buy weapons or body-tempering medicine.

As soon as the auction ended, Lin Zhao took the breathing exercise booklets and hurried from Xuanyao Tavern. He feared complications from delay. If someone regretted the sale and tried to seize the manuals, he might be safe inside Xuanyao Tavern, but once he stepped outside, that was another matter.

He first went to a clothing shop and changed into a dark blue brocade training outfit. Then he went to Ruibao House and bought all the ingredients for the Mystic Dragon Secret Medicine. Aside from Pangolin Dragon Essence, which was temporarily out of stock, the rest were fairly common and cost him thirty taels of silver.

As for the flood dragon blood required by the secret medicine, he deliberately went to a wild game stall in a corner of the black market and bought a freshly slaughtered Northern White Scaled Flood Dragon. This creature was common in the cold streams of the northern border. Its venom was mild, but its blood contained faint cold-attributed internal breath, just enough to neutralize the fierce energy of Nine Profound Grass. It was an inexpensive substitute for refining Mystic Dragon Secret Medicine.

Afterward, he went to the government academy's library tower in Northern Garrison City and several bookshops. So long as a book had anything to do with martial forging or bloodline breathing exercises, whether handwritten or woodblock printed, he bought it at a high price. In particular, he purchased a copy of Study of Northern Family Bloodlines, which recorded the bloodline origins of small martial families such as Mystic Wolf Fortress and Black Bear Stockade. It might help him study how to use the Proficiency Panel to break bloodline restrictions.

Once he finished all this, Lin Zhao hurried back to Lin Family Fortress overnight. He did not dare delay. First, he feared the fortress would worry. Second, the materials for the Mystic Dragon Secret Medicine needed to be fresh; if left too long, their medicinal effects would dissipate.

This time, he took a remote mountain path. Aside from encountering a few ordinary Green Pattern Wolves along the way, he did not run into bandits or mountain thieves. The journey was smooth enough. Presumably, after the Mountain Breaker Gang's bandits had been wiped out before, the petty criminals in this region had been frightened out of their wits.

Year 23 of Jiajing, the second day of Start of Summer Month. The first ray of morning sunlight had just reached Mount Xuan Yue Qixia.

Travel-worn and covered in dust, Lin Zhao finally arrived at Lin Family Fortress. A cloth bundle filled with books rested over his shoulder, while a newly purchased white-scaled flood dragon blood pouch hung at his waist. Fatigue from the journey still showed on his face, but it could not conceal the brightness in his eyes.

When Zhao Tieying at the fortress gate saw him return, his constantly tense face finally relaxed somewhat. He strode forward, one hand unconsciously pressing the long saber at his waist. These past few days, he had come to the gate several times each day to look out, afraid that something might happen to Lin Zhao.

"You're finally back! People in the fortress have been uneasy these past few days. Even the estate guards have had no heart to practice the Basic Slash and Stab Technique, all afraid you might encounter martial bandits in Northern Garrison City." As he spoke, he reached out to take the cloth bundle from Lin Zhao's shoulder, immediately feeling its weight. "You bought so many books? It seems this trip brought you quite a harvest."