Mystic armor shields the body, forging the Northern Garrison Armor!
With his forging skill having reached perfection, Lin Zhao took the scales of the Mystic Armored Pangolin Dragon, supplemented them with refined iron rings mixed with Black Gold, and forged himself a suit of armor.
The entire armor exuded the savage wilderness aura of the Northern Frontier, its design wild and unrestrained.
Lin Zhao dyed the armor deep black, its scale patterns faintly visible.
It was far lighter than ordinary plate armor when worn, yet lost none of its flexibility.
Its defensive power rivaled plate armor, while the unique resilience of the Mystic Armored Pangolin Dragon scales could even cushion the impact of blunt weapons.
"Let it be called the Northern Garrison Scale Armor." Lin Zhao gave this treasure armor an imposing name.
"Fine iron chainmail beneath, Northern Garrison Scale Armor in the middle, thick leather armor tanned from giant crocodile hide on the outside, supplemented by the protective aura of the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique—four layers of protection. Truly as solid as a moat of gold and a fortress of iron!"
"Under heaven, no martial art can break sheer hardness!"
Clad in his treasure armor and wielding a cold iron waist saber, Lin Zhao felt his heroic spirit soar to the clouds!
While the iron was hot, he forged another set for Zhao Tieying.
Zhao Tieying was overwhelmed by the favor, nearly shedding tears of gratitude.
Zhao Tieying had now recovered some of his strength. Though he could no longer reclaim the splendor of his former Peak Martial Master realm, his ordinary Entering Martial Master cultivation remained.
Had he possessed such treasure armor in his earlier years, he would not have been so grievously wounded by Ai Tieshan.
This was the bitter pain of inadequate weapons and armor.
"The remaining scales can be saved to forge armor for the three Mystic Arm Snow Apes once they grow up." Lin Zhao was in high spirits.
Besides the armor, Lin Zhao also recreated that internal-energy armor-piercing crossbow from memory.
Yet the most difficult part of the crossbow was not its mechanism, but its arrowheads.
Arrowheads forged from ordinary refined iron fell far short of expectations in armor-piercing power.
After painstaking research by Lin Zhao, now a Grand Master Craftsman, he discovered that to achieve extraordinary armor-piercing effects, one needed a rare metal—
"Cold Iron Mother."
It was even rarer than Black Gold.
A pound of Black Gold sold for one hundred taels on the market, while Cold Iron Mother cost two hundred taels.
More crucially, both metals circulated very little in the market.
When Lin Zhao had previously sought Black Gold to forge the Cold Iron Frost Condensing Sword, he had already gone through countless twists and turns.
Though his plan to mass-produce armor-piercing crossbows was obstructed, Lin Zhao did not lose heart.
Even ordinary iron arrows became remarkably powerful when paired with this crossbow.
Besides, he still possessed three internal-energy Cold Iron Mother arrows, all obtained from the Mystic Armored Pangolin Dragon's nest. They were enough to keep as trump cards.
By the time Lin Zhao finished his forging work, the season had reached the Awakening of Insects.
Three months had passed since he destroyed Night Raven Tower's stronghold in Northern Garrison City.
Night Raven Tower had surely learned of the stronghold's destruction long ago, but what they would do next remained unknown.
Inside the Secret Room, Lin Zhao, who had been cultivating the Netherworld Body Tempering Technique, slowly ended his practice.
The technique had reached the second level two days ago. He felt his physique had improved slightly, but for his current cultivation, the enhancement brought by the second level of the Netherworld Body Tempering Technique was negligible. To see real results, he would need to reach at least the fourth level.
He opened the Proficiency Panel:
Lin Zhao-- Netherworld Body Tempering Technique: Level 2 (1500/5000)
"Without secret medicine to assist me, cultivation progresses truly slowly." Lin Zhao could not help sighing.
Compared to the Mystic Wolf, Blood Poison Spider Technique, and Black Bear Technique, the Netherworld Body Tempering Technique was much harder to cultivate. The main reason was the lack of its matching secret medicine, "Netherworld Fluid."
One of its required ingredients was an herb called "Netherworld Grass," which Lin Zhao had never even heard of.
He sent people to ask at Xuanyao Tavern in Northern Garrison City and questioned every learned person he could find, yet none knew of it.
Thus, Lin Zhao could only cultivate this technique through hard work with the Proficiency Panel.
The progress was indeed unsatisfactory. It had taken two months just to reach the second level.
Such speed would have been astonishing to ordinary people, but Lin Zhao found it too slow.
Cultivating this technique also squeezed out the time he had for practicing his other skills.
At this rate, who knew what year or month it would take to reach perfection?
"I must make a trip to Xuanyao Tavern in Northern Garrison City. First, to learn of Night Raven Tower's movements. Second, to check on the progress of the bounty for techniques. Third, to inquire about this Netherworld Grass... Without secret medicine to assist me, training an Upper Grade technique to perfection takes far too much time. Time is silver, and continuing like this simply isn't worth it."
Over these three months of bitter cultivation, his other techniques had also improved besides the Netherworld Body Tempering Technique.
However, Lin Zhao had focused on the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique and the Netherworld Body Tempering Technique, so the Blood Poison Spider Technique and Black Bear Strength had progressed somewhat more slowly.
Still, he estimated that Black Bear Strength would reach the fifth level in at most two or three months, while the Blood Poison Spider Breathing Technique was not far behind.
In short, after some more time, his strength would surely rise another level.
After giving Zhao Tieying his instructions, Lin Zhao put on the Rakshasa mask and headed once more for Northern Garrison City.
He first went to Xuanyao Tavern and asked whether anyone was selling martial arts techniques.
To his surprise, someone truly was. Lin Zhao secretly rejoiced, asked a waiter to contact the seller, then found a private room to drink and wait.
While waiting, he activated the art of Subtle Vibration Sense, and every conversation in the tavern entered his ears.
From the idle chatter of the drinkers, he learned that the remnants of Northern Yuan in the Northern Frontier had been far from peaceful this winter.
Nearly ten thousand civilians had been displaced by the bitter cold and the so-called "calamity of the Ice Armored Death Warriors," fleeing south in groups.
Along the way, they suffered hunger and cold, disease clung to them, bandits ran rampant, and savage beasts prowled. Not one in ten survived.
For the few fortunate enough to reach Great Ming Northern Garrison Town and the Jizhou Northern Frontier, the best possible outcome was merely being seized by Slave Catching Squads and sold into slavery.
Several of the farm slaves Lin Zhao had purchased came from the former lands of Northern Yuan.
These northern folk were short and sturdy, skilled at forging.
For them, merely staying alive was already a luxury.
As for those "Ice Armored Death Warriors," some wandering martial artists employed by Northern Yuan nobles said, "Heaven above, they are a group of undead death warriors who know neither weariness nor fear of death, their bodies covered in frost and ghostly blue flames burning in their eye sockets!"
"Death warriors..." A sharp gleam flickered in Lin Zhao's eyes as curiosity arose within him over the origins of these Ice Armored Death Warriors.
Before long, the person who wished to sell a technique arrived at Xuanyao Tavern's private room.
"Are you Rakshasa Shen Luo?" The newcomer had a bloated belly and looked too weak to truss a chicken, clearly not a martial artist.
"That's right. You have a technique for sale?" Lin Zhao tapped the tabletop with his fingertips, his gaze sweeping over the man's hand hidden inside his sleeve.
"Indeed. I have an ancestral technique here. I wonder what price Lord Shen Luo is willing to offer?" The fat man's voice was unsteady. Clearly, this was his first time making such a deal, and his eyes were full of nervousness.
"I need to see the quality of the technique. May I have a look?" Lin Zhao's tone was calm, yet it carried an unquestionable pressure.
The fat man hurriedly nodded and pulled out an old booklet from his robes, yellowed and curled at the edges, covered in dust stains. He only unfolded one corner before swiftly putting it away again—afraid someone might memorize its contents.
Though he saw only a glimpse, Lin Zhao had already recognized the ink marks as old. Nineteen illustrated forms were clearly visible, with a massive brute ox, sturdy as a stone mill, painted in the center. It was plainly a strength-based technique.
A Lower Grade strength technique on the same level as Black Bear Strength. A trace of disappointment flashed through Lin Zhao's heart.
Even if such a technique were trained to perfection, it would scarcely improve his current strength.
But on second thought, an additional technique was useful after all, so he decided to buy it.
Seeing Lin Zhao's brows lower slightly, the fat man immediately panicked and hurriedly added, "This is my Niu family's ancestral Brute Ox Technique, absolutely not some incomplete market copy! If you are a collector of techniques, you must know how precious a complete inheritance is!"
"Fifty taels of silver." Lin Zhao could not be bothered to waste words and directly named his price.
"Too low! At least eighty taels!" The fat man forced himself to bargain, but upon catching the chill that flashed through Lin Zhao's eyes, his voice dropped by half.
He had never cultivated this ancestral technique in the first place. He only wanted to sell it for money so he could enjoy himself in the pleasure quarters. How could he dare truly confront "Rakshasa Shen Luo"?
Lin Zhao rose at once, making as if to leave. "Fifty taels. If you won't sell, forget it."
"Deal! Fifty taels!" The fat man hurriedly grabbed Lin Zhao's sleeve, terrified that the deal would fall through.
Once the transaction was complete, Lin Zhao took the old booklet and examined it closely.
The words "Brute Ox Technique" on the cover were blurred, while the notes beside the diagrams on the inner pages were crooked and messy.
"Sure enough, it's a Lower Grade technique found on every street corner." Lin Zhao gave a derisive laugh. The booklet depicted several people worshipping a wild ox as large as a house as their totem, exactly as he had guessed.
"Sigh, Upper Grade techniques are truly hard to find. Perhaps I should ask which great families in Northern Garrison City possess secret manuals, and play the part of a treasure-snatching wandering swordsman?" The thought of plundering flashed through Lin Zhao's mind, but he quickly suppressed it—his principle was not to stir up trouble first. Yet if someone came knocking, they should not blame him for being ruthless.
Afterward, Lin Zhao went to the bounty board and posted a commission offering a heavy reward for Netherworld Grass, treating it as a chance to try his luck.
As it happened, Xuanyao Tavern's monthly auction was beginning, so Lin Zhao simply stayed to participate.
Unexpectedly, the auction contained quite a few good items. One was a Silver Scale Heart Mirror personally forged by the Red Fire Master Craftsman. Because it used a full two pounds of Black Gold, it ultimately sold for the sky-high price of fifteen thousand taels.
"Heh, I'm also a registered Grand Master Craftsman. It's a pity my name hasn't become known; otherwise, wouldn't earning silver be much easier?" Lin Zhao stroked his chin as he calculated. "The next time I trade with the Wild Jackal Gang, any armor personally forged by me must cost thirty percent more. If he refuses, I'll end the partnership—he is of no great use to me now anyway. It would be a fine chance to deal with the Wild Jackal Gang and seize Zhang Laochui back." He had endured this old grudge for a full three years.
Even more surprisingly, a Middle Grade non-bloodline technique, the Iron Rhinoceros Technique, appeared at the auction.
Though it was only Middle Grade, it drew a frenzied scramble from the entire hall and finally sold for eight thousand eight hundred taels.
The value of non-bloodline techniques lay in the fact that they could be passed down for subordinates to cultivate. Whether great clans sought to nurture their forces or newly rich families sought an inheritance, all were willing to spend heavily for them.
Lin Zhao was somewhat tempted, but did not join the bidding—spending nearly eight thousand eight hundred taels on a Middle Grade technique was not worth it.
The soldiers under his command could practice just the Bone Softening Technique until their hair turned white. There was no need to add another technique.
In the end, the Iron Rhinoceros Technique was purchased by a man wearing a bronze mask.
After obtaining it, the man did not even touch the wine on his table. He tucked the technique away and hurriedly left, clearly afraid of attracting covetous eyes.
From the corner of his eye, Lin Zhao saw that as soon as the man exited Xuanyao Tavern, four or five black shadows silently followed after him.
"Interesting." A sharp gleam flickered in Lin Zhao's eyes. There were no more auction items that interested him, so he too rose and left.
"If those people succeed, I'll rob the robbers. If they fail, I'll treat it as a show—though I am no good man, I do not provoke trouble first." His principles had always been flexible.
After leaving Northern Garrison City's gates, Lin Zhao silently followed at the rear using the footwork of Mystic Wolf Step.
The strongest among that group was merely a high-level Entering Martial Master, while several others were thugs who had never trained in martial arts. In his eyes, they were no different from earthen chickens and pottery dogs.
Yet the man did not rush out of the city—inside the city were government constables and patrol inspectors, so villains did not dare act recklessly.
He found an inn called Peace Inn and stayed there for three days.
During that time, many impatient villains had already left. Still, three remained unwilling to give up, loitering around the inn.
Inside a second-floor guest room of the inn, the middle-aged man beneath the bronze mask looked grave. "We cannot wait any longer. These people are nearly unable to hold themselves back. I may possess high-level Martial Master cultivation, and I have two mid-level Martial Masters beside me, but that Rakshasa-masked man following last gives me a feeling more dangerous than even a Peak Martial Master!"
"Damn it. I came this time under Duke Wei's orders to seek a technique. If I botch this, I will have no way to answer for it upon my return." The middle-aged man rubbed his brow, full of anxiety.
At the same time, Lin Zhao was cultivating with his eyes closed in the guest room next door.
[Netherworld Body Tempering Technique Proficiency +29]
"The Netherworld Body Tempering Technique is progressing faster and faster." Lin Zhao opened his eyes and clenched his fist, sensing the surging internal strength within him. "At this pace, I will surely advance to Peak Martial Master this year."
"Unfortunately, the Mystic Dragon Secret Medicine is nearly used up again. Where am I supposed to find Pangolin Dragon Essence? Could it be that I have to go to Oirat?"
Oirat and the Ming Dynasty had always been on poor terms. Lin Zhao had never set foot there, and he did not speak Oirat. Even if he went, it would be difficult to gather information.
"Wait, I have the Proficiency Panel! If I can find books on the Oirat language, perhaps I can turn it into a skill, then slowly cultivate it through hard practice." Though books introducing the Oirat language were extremely rare in Northern Garrison City, there was always a sliver of hope.
Just as Lin Zhao was preparing to circulate the Netherworld Body Tempering Technique, faint footsteps outside the window instantly put him on alert.
Since mastering Subtle Vibration Sense, his perception had become ever more acute. He could even clearly catch breathing sounds several yards away.
He swiftly stuffed dried meat into his mouth, put on the Rakshasa mask, flexed his wrist, then pushed off with his toes and slipped out the window like a nimble cat, landing soundlessly in the shadows of the inn's rear courtyard.
In the middle of the night, the middle-aged man led two mid-level Martial Masters on horseback out of the city, racing straight south.
He knew that delays bred complications and that he had to leave Northern Garrison City as quickly as possible.
But when they reached Mass Grave Hill ten miles outside the city, a cold arrow tore through the air—"Whoosh!"
The arrow grazed past the middle-aged man's shoulder and buried itself in a nearby tree trunk, its fletching still trembling.
"Hand over the Iron Rhinoceros Technique, and we may spare your life!" Four black shadows sprang out from behind Mass Grave Hill. Their leader held a long saber, his eyes vicious.
A fierce battle erupted in an instant, the clash of metal ringing through the night sky.
At first, relying on his high-level Martial Master cultivation and the aid of two mid-level Martial Masters, the middle-aged man could still match the villains evenly and even held a slight advantage.
But before long, a figure wearing a ghost-face mask suddenly joined the battle. His internal force was deep and powerful—he too was a high-level Martial Master!
The situation instantly reversed, and the middle-aged man gradually fell into a disadvantage.
In the end, he had underestimated the temptation of a non-bloodline technique. It had drawn two high-level Martial Masters.
"Stop!" The middle-aged man suddenly bellowed, knocking back the villain before him. "I am a retainer of Duke Wei's Residence, acting under orders! Do you know that attacking a man of Duke Wei's Residence means becoming enemies with all of Duke Wei's Residence?"
"Haha! Kill you and toss your corpse into the wilderness—who will ever know?" The high-level Martial Master in the ghost-face mask sneered, his long saber growing ever fiercer. "Duke Wei may be powerful, but distant water cannot quench immediate thirst!"
These desperadoes had no family or ties to worry about. Why would they fear Duke Wei's Residence, far away in the capital?
"You..." The middle-aged man was shocked and furious. Just as he was about to speak again, he suddenly heard the shriek of an arrow—
"Pfft!"
An iron arrow precisely pierced through his back, its arrowhead bursting out through his chest, carrying scalding blood.
The middle-aged man looked down at the arrow shaft protruding from his chest in disbelief, then slowly turned his head toward where the arrow had come from.
Under the moonlight, a Rakshasa mask slowly emerged—it was Lin Zhao, who had followed them all the way.
The middle-aged man's eyes were full of unwillingness as his body slowly toppled across his horse's back.
Seeing this, the other villains immediately swarmed forward, all seeking to seize the technique from his robes.
But Lin Zhao gave them no chance. He swiftly drew his bow and nocked arrows, the bowstring ringing in rapid succession—
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Not a single arrow missed! Under his archery, capable of piercing a willow leaf from a hundred paces, those mid-level Martial Masters without armor fell instantly. Even the Martial Masters wearing leather armor had their joints pierced by arrows and lost their fighting strength.
In only a few breaths, more than half of those seeking to lay hands on the technique were dead.
"Who are you? How dare you ruin my plans!" Seeing his companions suffer grievous casualties, the ghost-face-masked martial artist showed a trace of fear in his eyes. Yet he still charged at Lin Zhao, forcing himself onward as his long saber cleaved out a fierce gust of blade wind.
Lin Zhao drew his sword. The cold gleam of the Frost Condensation Sword was especially dazzling in the night!
"Mystic Wolf Strength, accelerate!"
Mystic Wolf Strength raced through his body. Lin Zhao's figure instantly sped up, evading the blade wind as his sword traced an arc—
"Three Talents Slash!"
The internal strength of the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique erupted in full. A layer of pale blue protective aura wound around the blade as it smashed fiercely against the ghost-face-masked martial artist's saber!
Crack!
The long saber snapped in response. The Frost Condensation Sword did not slow, slicing through the man's chainmail and plunging into his lower abdomen.
Lin Zhao twisted his wrist, sweeping the blade sideways—
"Pfft!"
The ghost-face-masked martial artist was cut in half at the waist, blood and entrails spilling across the ground.
A one-sided slaughter ended moments later.
On Mass Grave Hill, the only living people left were Lin Zhao and the middle-aged man clinging to his last breath.
"Y-you... do you know that I'm from Duke Wei's Residence...?" The middle-aged man's breathing was faint, blood still pouring from the wound in his chest. He was clearly at death's door.
Lin Zhao slowly walked up to him, the tip of the Frost Condensation Sword pressed against his brow. His voice was ice-cold. "Duke Wei's Residence is exactly who I came to kill."
Splat!
The blade pierced through him, and the middle-aged man finally breathed his last.
Lin Zhao swiftly cleared the battlefield. From the middle-aged nobleman's robes, he found a booklet of the Iron Rhinoceros Technique, more than five thousand taels' worth of banknotes, and an ancient yellowed sheepskin parchment—there were no martial arts diagrams on it, only dozens of intricate hand seals. In one corner were four ancient characters:
Spirit Taming Secret Record.
Lin Zhao gave the parchment a cursory glance. His heart abruptly began to pound, and even his breathing quickened.
"This... is the real surprise!!!"
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