Binding Force was the second tier of inner force in the Three Talents Slash, not merely a technique for exerting strength—it required condensing the icy inner qi of the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique onto the blade, forming spiraling force. It could both dispel the inner qi on an enemy's weapon and tear at armor like iron hooks. It was more subtle and more lethal than Shaking Force.
Only when he truly grasped this power did Lin Zhao suddenly realize how vast and profound the path of the sword was. "Uncle Zhao once said that if one could cultivate Binding Force, it would be equivalent to mastering the foundation of an Upper Grade sword art. With the inner qi of my Fourth Tier Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique as my base, this sword art to support it, and the Silver Frost Step from the Third Tier Mystic Wolf Breathing Technique, just how far has my strength reached now? When Uncle Zhao returns, I must spar with him properly."
Even so, he felt not the slightest arrogance—he had merely caught a glimpse of the doorway to Binding Force, and could only condense the force within three inches before his blade;
Zhao Tieying had steeped himself in this path for more than a decade. Perhaps he had already cultivated "high-tier Binding Force," allowing his force to leave his body by half a foot. The gap between them remained.
The joy of breaking through one barrier after another finally loosened the emotions Lin Zhao had suppressed for so long.
He stretched his waist and limbs. As his inner qi circulated, his muscles and bones gave off faint crackling sounds. "Entering Martial Masters are divided into four ranks: low-tier, when the Qi Seed has just condensed; mid-tier, when the Qi Seed takes shape; high-tier, when the Qi Seed is refined; and peak-tier, when the Qi Seed reaches perfection. Only Grandmaster Warriors of the Heavenly Gang Realm are no longer divided by rank.
"I have only just broken through, so by rights I should be low-tier. But in actual combat, with Binding Force and the Silver Frost Step, I might be able to rival a mid-tier Martial Master."
He wanted to find someone to spar with, but the estate guards in the fortress had at most practiced the Basic Slash and Stab Technique. They did not even count as Martial Trainees. And the Three Talents Slash was a killing move—how could he casually use it on his own people? "Forget it. I'll go forge at the Blacksmith Shed instead. Hammering can stabilize my inner force, and I can also study the forging method for the Pulse Protecting Pattern. Killing two birds with one stone."
To Lin Zhao now, Martial Arts Blacksmithing was no longer merely a means of making a living. It was also a method of tempering his mind and refining his inner force. When swinging the hammer, he had to circulate inner qi to control his strength; when quenching, he had to focus on sensing the heat of the fire. It complemented the path of force cultivation, and neither could be lacking.
The furnace fire rose, and the bellows wheezed and thumped as the Tiger Fang Dagger left behind by the assassin was thrown into the mystic iron furnace.
Before the iron-smelting furnace, Lin Zhao stood bare-chested. Beads of sweat slid down the grooves of his muscles and struck the scorching anvil, scattering tiny sparks;
The hammer fell, its clanging unceasing. Following the rhythm of each strike, his inner qi seeped bit by bit into the red-hot metal.
As time flowed on, a foot-long black Short Knife gradually took shape—the blade was narrow and sharp, the hilt wrapped in non-slip cowhide, and three shallow lines were carved along its spine. They were the "Binding Force Pulse Protecting Pattern" he had recently devised, allowing it to better bear the force.
After quenching, tempering, and the rest of the processes, the notification from the Proficiency Panel sounded at just the right moment:
[Martial Arts Blacksmithing Proficiency +10]
Lin Zhao picked up the Short Knife and gave it several test swings, slowly pouring Binding Force into it. Rings of faint black spiraling qi patterns truly appeared over the blade. When he chopped at a wooden pillar nearby, the cut was smooth and free of splinters, while even the wood chips scattered in spirals.
"Just as Uncle Zhao said, the Binding Force of the Three Talents Slash is more a method of using inner force. If cultivated to a profound level, even blunt weapons like hammers and staffs could employ it." He clicked his tongue in wonder. Unfortunately, his current realm was insufficient, and his force could only condense upon a sharp blade.
Comparing it with the cold steel Cold Moon Sword at his waist, Lin Zhao discovered that this newly forged mystic iron Short Knife could better withstand the impact of Binding Force. "In the end, it is a matter of material. The Frost Condensation Sword was forged from ordinary refined iron, so inner qi is easily depleted as it circulates through it. This Short Knife contains thirty percent mystic iron, and its Pulse Protecting Pattern suits Binding Force as well. Only then can it be called a truly handy weapon. If I can find Meteorite Iron in the future, I must forge a 'Binding Force Sword' exclusively for myself."
After completing the forging, Lin Zhao returned to the steward's room and had people construct a private hidden chamber behind the artificial hill in the rear courtyard according to his drawings. After this assassination attempt, he no longer dared let down his guard in the slightest. The hidden chamber needed a mystic iron gate and had to connect to the beast enclosure of the Mystic Arm Snow Ape, ensuring that nothing could go wrong.
At dawn the next day, hurried hoofbeats shattered the fortress's tranquility.
Zhao Tieying returned covered in dust and travel-weariness, leading five guards. Mud and snow clung to his armor, and fatigue showed on his face, yet it could not conceal the gravity in his eyes.
Lin Zhao hurried forward and asked with a smile, "Uncle Zhao, did the trip to Northern Garrison City go smoothly?"
"I did not fail your trust, Young Master." Zhao Tieying swung down from his horse and took an oilcloth pouch from his robes, handing it over. "The armor has been delivered to Iron Mask. This is the payment, along with a bottle of Pangolin Dragon Essence. Ruibao Pavilion only had this last bottle left, and I bought it at a high price."
Lin Zhao opened the oilcloth pouch. Inside was a stack of fifty-tael silver notes, thirty in total, along with a Black Ceramic Bottle. When he pulled out the stopper, the distinctive fishy fragrance of Pangolin Dragon Essence rushed into his face.
The weight in his heart finally lifted. Zhao Tieying was a Peak Martial Master. So long as he did not take the initiative to provoke a Grandmaster Warrior of the Heavenly Gang Realm, ordinary people could not harm him at all.
"You've worked hard, Uncle Zhao." Lin Zhao put the items away, then asked, "Does Ruibao Pavilion still have any Pangolin Dragon Essence in stock? My Mystic Dragon Secret Medicine is almost used up."
Zhao Tieying shook his head, his expression turning grave. "No more. The shopkeeper said there would be no stock for some time. I only learned after asking around that the Oirat have banned exports of Pangolin Dragon Essence. They also need it as a body-tempering supplementary ingredient for the Northern Desert Howling Wolf Breathing Technique. With the border war growing tense, they simply sealed off exports, and Pangolin Dragon Essence within our borders has become scarce.
"On top of that, the imperial family is cultivating the Five-Clawed Golden Dragon Art and scrambling to buy up the remaining stock. The market price has tripled now. Even with money, it is hard to buy."
"Then if I want Pangolin Dragon Essence in the future, I must either wait for the border restrictions to be lifted or go search within Oirat territory?" Lin Zhao frowned. He had not expected the border war to affect his cultivation resources.
"Without Pangolin Dragon Essence, the secret medicine for the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique will slow my cultivation progress by at least half." He pondered inwardly. Fortunately, my current stock can still last two months. There is no need to rush. I can slowly seek a solution.
After returning to the discussion hall, Zhao Tieying studied Lin Zhao for a moment, then suddenly smiled. "Young Master, have you broken through to the Entering Martial Master realm? Your inner qi is condensed without dispersing, and even your eyes have grown much brighter."
"Yes. I condensed the Mystic Dragon Seed a few days ago, and I've also cultivated Binding Force in the Three Talents Slash." Lin Zhao did not hide it. Zhao Tieying was the person he trusted most. Back when his father was on his deathbed, he had entrusted both Lin Family Fortress and Lin Zhao to this old subordinate. If not for Zhao Tieying's unwavering loyalty, he, a young orphan, could never have defended the family estate.
"You became an Entering Martial Master in just three years and even cultivated Binding Force. You are several points faster than the old master was back then!" Zhao Tieying's eyes reddened, and his voice choked. "If the old master knew in the underworld that you had become so accomplished, he would surely smile with satisfaction... It is only a pity that the old master could not see this day."
Once master and servant had calmed their emotions, Lin Zhao told him everything about the assassination that night and took out the Ebony Night Raven Mask.
Zhao Tieying accepted the mask, his fingertips brushing its raven patterns. His expression instantly turned grave. "This is a Black Raven Mask!"
"Black Raven?" Lin Zhao pressed.
"It is said that the Black Raven is the strange beast perched upon the shoulder of the Netherworld Martial Venerate. Wherever its cry rises, lost souls must follow. There is an assassination organization in the martial world whose members all wear these masks when they act. They accept only high-priced assassination jobs—whether commoners or nobles, so long as the payment is sufficient, they even dare kill military officers of the garrisons."
Zhao Tieying said in a deep voice, "This organization is called Night Raven Tower. Its movements are incredibly elusive. The court has sent Martial Masters to encircle and suppress it several times, yet never managed to uproot it. There are even rumors that they cast their shadow behind several assassinations of officials in recent years."
"Oh? Such a formidable organization exists?" Lin Zhao was slightly surprised.
"More troublesome still, it is rumored that the founder of Night Raven Tower is the mysterious Myriad Illusions Martial Saint, Ji Hanying." Zhao Tieying lowered his voice even further.
Myriad Illusions Martial Saint Ji Hanying—those six words exploded beside Lin Zhao's ears like thunder.
This Martial Saint was perhaps the most mysterious Legendary Master Warrior of the Ming Dynasty's several centuries. No one knew his true name, no one knew when he broke through into the legendary realm, and no one had ever truly seen his appearance.
All that was known was that he had once, by himself, defeated the joint siege of more than a dozen Peak Grandmaster Warriors from the Northern Desert. He had also left behind several Upper Grade martial arts manuals, such as the Myriad Illusions Step and Phantom Blade. The title "Myriad Illusions Martial Saint" had long been deeply carved into the hearts of martial artists across the land.
If Night Raven Tower had truly been founded by him, then the foundation of this organization was genuinely terrifying.
"Uncle Zhao, in your opinion, who wants to make a move against me?" Lin Zhao steadied his mind and asked.
Zhao Tieying pondered for a moment before replying solemnly, "Most likely Duke Wei, Xu Qin."
"But six years ago, he clearly had the chance to kill me. Why wait until now?" Lin Zhao did not understand. When his father had just died, he had been alone and without support in Jiangnan. If Xu Qin had wanted to silence him, it would have been as easy as turning over his hand.
"Times have changed." Zhao Tieying explained, "Six years ago, the border was in chaos from war, and the old master had just died in battle. The court was posthumously granting him the title of Black Dragon General. If Xu Qin had acted against you then, it could easily have aroused the court's suspicion and earned him the curse of 'bullying the descendants of loyal men.'
"Now six years have passed. The old master's name has long faded from people's memories, and you, the minor hundred-household commander of Lin Family Fortress, are no more than an inconspicuous descendant of military nobility in the northern lands in the eyes of others.
"If he hires Night Raven Tower to kill you now, he can both cut the grass and remove the roots, and no one will pursue the matter. It could not be more suitable for him.
"What he did not expect was that over these six years, you would grow from a child into an Entering Martial Master capable of taking on a Night Raven Tower assassin."
"Could it be Daoist Zhang from the Celestial Masters' Manor?" Lin Zhao asked again.
"Not very likely." Zhao Tieying shook his head. "If the Celestial Masters' Manor wanted to move against you, it would not need to resort to assassination.
"A Feudal King who kills military nobility must still heed laws and rules. The Celestial Masters' Manor bears the name of 'protecting the realm'; it is itself the martial order of the northern lands. If they wanted to deal with you, they could directly send the protector Martial Master Corps to 'purge rebels,' all under the banner of righteousness.
"Besides, Daoist Zhang only has eyes for the silver from Military Supply Tribute. You have already agreed to pay, so he has no reason to risk killing you and cutting off this long-term source of income."
Lin Zhao felt that made sense—the Duke of Wei was indeed the prime suspect.
After all, the Lin family's Furong Manor in Jiangnan and its two estates at Iron Felt Mountain not only possessed fertile fields, but also concealed a small mystic iron vein. Xu Qin had occupied them for years and long treated them as something already in his pocket.
As the "orphan of the Black Dragon General," Lin Zhao was a thorn in Xu Qin's heart. Even though he had pretended to be a wastrel all these years, as long as he remained alive, he still had the possibility of rising again and taking revenge.
"Even being the master of a small fortress is this difficult." Lin Zhao could not help sighing. "I have kept such a low profile, neither fighting nor scrambling for anything, yet those great figures still see me as a thorn in their eye and insist on getting rid of me."
Those lofty nobles could turn clouds into rain with a wave of their hands, their bellies full of schemes. When had they ever truly regarded him as worth their notice?
Yet Lin Zhao was least skilled at plots and political struggles. There was only one thing he could do—bury his head in cultivation, grind his Proficiency Panel to the fullest, and when his strength was sufficient one day, smash those people's dog heads, trample their faces flat, and reclaim everything that belonged to the Lin family!
"Young Master, although you have become an Entering Martial Master, compared to Duke Wei, the gap remains as vast as heaven and earth." Seeing a blood-red gleam rise in Lin Zhao's eyes, Zhao Tieying hurriedly advised him, "Xu Qin himself is a peak Entering Martial Master and Grandmaster Warrior. Under his command are the Bloody Hand General Zhou Yan and the White Shirt General Wang Jun, both Grandmaster Warriors as well. He also has several thousand well-equipped private soldiers. Whether in personal martial might or military strength, he far surpasses us. You must not act impulsively!"
"Rest assured, I know my limits." Lin Zhao forcefully suppressed the fire in his heart. "We will live as usual from now on, but two things must change. First, half of the armor and weapons we forge every month will be kept for our own use. I will select a hundred strong men from among the estate guards and train them into Mystic Iron Elite Soldiers. Each will be equipped with mystic iron plate armor and a long saber bearing Pulse Protecting Patterns.
"Second, if an opportunity arises, I want to purchase a batch of Hetao War Horses and train cavalry. On a cold-weapon battlefield, cavalry are the true rulers. Without cavalry, no matter how many infantry we have, it will be difficult to withstand powerful enemies."
Cavalry was the troop type he most urgently wanted at the moment. In this high-martial world, cavalry possessed far greater deterrence than in his previous life. Warhorses had to withstand the reinforcement of a Martial Master's inner qi, horse armor had to be forged from mystic iron, and riders had to cultivate the Mounted Combat Breathing Exercise. When charging, the impact of the warhorse combined with the rider's inner force meant that even Peak Martial Masters had to temporarily avoid their edge when faced with ten charging riders.
One Entering Martial Master might be able to defeat twenty infantrymen, but against ten cavalrymen, he could only be helpless.
With a hundred riders, he could sweep through the neighboring hundred-household territories of the northern lands. With several hundred riders, even an earl's estate would have to fear him by three parts. As for several thousand riders, he did not yet dare think of it. During the border wars of old, even when the court conscripted soldiers across the entire realm, it had only managed to gather a little over fifty thousand cavalry. This showed just how precious cavalry were.
Lin Zhao had originally wished to remain at Lin Family Fortress, cultivating and forging in peace. But reality had forced him to plan ahead.
In this chaotic world, without troops, no amount of personal martial strength could protect his family estate.
He had to train an elite force if he wished to survive in the cracks between Duke Wei and the Celestial Masters' Manor.
Though the course ahead was clear, a practical problem stood before him—warhorses were far too expensive.
He had asked about the market prices. A Hetao War Horse capable of bearing inner qi reinforcement cost one hundred and fifty taels of silver, a full double the price of an ordinary warhorse.
A hundred warhorses alone would cost fifteen thousand taels of silver, not including horse armor and cavalry lances. Much less the dozens of pounds of fodder each horse consumed every day, which had to be mixed with wheat bran and beans to keep the horses in good condition. It was simply a bottomless pit that burned money.
"No matter how difficult it is, it must be done. We can slowly save silver." Lin Zhao gritted his teeth. "We can forge the armor and weapons ourselves, saving a great deal of money. We will first train the elite soldiers, then seek opportunities for the warhorses later."
"I agree with your idea, Young Master." Zhao Tieying nodded. "If we wish to reclaim the ancestral estate in Jiangnan one day, cavalry will be indispensable. But the fortress is indeed short on silver at present, so we must plan for the long term. Oh, there is one more matter—the Martial Master called Iron Mask who trades armor with you. I may know his background now."
"Oh? Who is it?" Lin Zhao's eyes lit up.
"The second-in-command of the Wild Jackal Gang, Diao Kui." Zhao Tieying said solemnly, "While I was making inquiries in the black market of Northern Garrison City, someone said Iron Mask often delivered armor to the Wild Jackal Gang. They also said he had a knife scar on his left hand—exactly matching Diao Kui's features.
"The Wild Jackal Gang previously abducted Zhang Laochui, likely to make him forge armor. Now that they are buying armor from you, they are probably planning to expand their forces. Their ambitions are not small."
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