Hundred Refinements Heavenly Craftsman

Over this period, Lin Zhao's figure could be seen almost daily on the training grounds of Lin Family Fortress. The fluctuations of Internal Breath around him grew increasingly potent, and his other Internal energy techniques had all advanced simultaneously!

The Iron Rhinoceros Technique and Brute Ox Technique, which he had recently acquired, showed the most rapid progress. Blood Essence surged like thunder, and faint cracking sounds could even be heard within his bones as both techniques broke through the Third Tier!

Lin Zhao's gaze swept over the Proficiency Panel for these two techniques, and he made his own assessment—the Brute Ox Technique shared a similar path to the Black Bear Technique he had practiced years ago. Its proficiency panel stopped abruptly at the Fourth Tier, clearly indicating it had reached its limit.

But the Iron Rhinoceros Technique was different!

This cultivation method, not passed down through Bloodline, actually possessed twenty-four diagrams, each embodying a powerful and domineering force.

Lin Zhao's fingertips traced the meridians on the diagrams, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes: "Judging by this, reaching the Fifth Tier is no problem. It might even be able to contend with the Netherworld Technique!"

Only the Netherworld Technique lagged behind, having barely broken through the Second Tier.

It wasn't that Lin Zhao wasn't diligent; it was simply that this Internal energy technique was too overbearing. Every trace of true essence had to be refined a thousand times in the dantian, consuming ten times the mental effort of ordinary Internal energy techniques. Even the most basic progress far surpassed techniques like the Mystic Wolf Technique or the Black Bear Technique.

Of course, the most crucial factor was the lack of Netherworld Secret Medicine. Without it as a foundation, no amount of urgency would help.

Lin Zhao was currently busier than anyone else—he practiced the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique and the Netherworld Technique during the day, and at night, he had to ponder the intricacies of the Blood Poison Technique, the solidity of the Iron Rhinoceros Technique, the ferocity of the Brute Ox Technique, and Killing Moves like the Three Talents Slash. He often trained until deep into the night, his clothes drenched in sweat.

As for the Blazing Sun Seal, it couldn't be rushed.

The materials required for this move were too precious. The cinnabar had to be ground from thousand-year-old cinnabar from the Southern Frontier, and the realgar had to be mined from deep within the mountains. Lin Zhao could only gather a batch of materials and find a secluded stone chamber to cultivate them intensively. Whether the proficiency would increase depended entirely on his feel and luck.

Yet, despite such hardship, Lin Zhao didn't feel tired at all.

Each time his Internal energy broke through, the surging power within him, the exhilaration of breaking his own limits time and again, was more intoxicating than anything else—the Martial Path was meant to be an upward struggle; the more difficult, the more interesting!

Seeing that the Three Talents Slash was just a step away from breaking through, Lin Zhao decided to allocate some time from his Internal energy cultivation to specifically hone this move.

One early morning, a flash of sword light streaked across the training grounds. A faint golden ripple spread from the sword's edge, causing the wooden stakes several yards away to crack!

Lin Zhao sheathed his sword and stood, feeling the power of the sword move, which was even greater than before. A slight smile curved his lips: "Fifth Tier. The Basic Entangling Force has finally advanced to Intermediate. My strength has increased again!"

With such accumulation, Lin Zhao himself could no longer gauge the true extent of his current strength.

Especially after Zhao Tieying was injured a few days ago, there was no one left in Lin Family Fortress who could spar with him.

Unable to help himself, he had to bring three Northern Mystic Arm Snow Apes as opponents.

These three Mystic Arm Snow Apes were fierce, their fur like iron. But for the current Lin Zhao, even with his eyes closed, he could toy with them effortlessly using his enhanced Intermediate Rapid Speed and the ability to hear the wind and discern positions—the Mystic Arm Snow Apes' claws would barely reach him before he had already floated ten yards away; as soon as the sound of wind rose behind him, a flick of his fingertip would force the Mystic Arm Snow Ape to whimper and retreat.

It wasn't that the three Mystic Arm Snow Apes were too weak; on the contrary, any one of them possessed the strength of an Intermediate Martial Master. With all three attacking together, even a High-level Martial Master would have a headache, and only a Peak Martial Master could barely suppress them. The issue lay with Lin Zhao—when he was still an Intermediate Martial Master, he could pin down Peak Martial Masters like Tie Shan, who cultivated both Internal and External energy; now that he was a High-level Martial Master, wielding several Fifth-tier skills, with the Blazing Sun Seal as a trump card he hadn't revealed, and having thoroughly studied the habits of the Mystic Arm Snow Apes, dealing with them was naturally effortless.

Ultimately, Lin Zhao's current strength had already reached a terrifying level. It was just that he had always been low-key and rarely showed his skills in front of outsiders, so no one knew that Lin Family Fortress harbored such a formidable figure.

Previously, Lin Zhao had wanted to find an opportunity to eliminate Daoist Zhang, but on second thought, it was too disadvantageous to act now. The Mystic Truth Temple had already been built, and its incense offerings had begun to flourish, its influence extending far beyond Lin Family Fortress, Frostwind Guard, Rockstead Garrison, and Silvermoon Stockade. Even the garrisons and wilderness settlements in the Northern Frontier that the Celestial Masters' Manor couldn't reach were sending money to the temple.

Lin Zhao sat in his study, tapping his fingers on the table, thoroughly understanding Daoist Zhang's methods of accumulating wealth: the donations from nobles, the incense taxes collected from surrounding settlements, the merit money given by devout believers, and the silver for lamp oil... Calculating all this, he figured the old Daoist was likely draining all the resources from Northern Garrison City.

"Old Daoist, keep accumulating, the more the better," a cold smile played on Lin Zhao's lips, a hint of calculation in his eyes. "The donations I, Lin Zhao, have given you are just capital deposited with you. Sooner or later, I will take it all back with interest, and I'll add your dog's life!"

His relationship with Daoist Zhang had now been cultivated to be "as close as brothers"—even the branch of the Celestial Masters' Manor in Northern Garrison City knew that the Lord of Lin Family Fortress, Lin Zhao, was a great benefactor of the Mystic Truth Temple, donating money and goods generously.

Lin Zhao was well aware that he was indirectly investing in the Daoist temple. To put it bluntly, he was "fattening it up before slaughtering it." To put it nicely, he was also a "major shareholder" of the Mystic Truth Temple.

When the temple's incense money piled up like a mountain, he would assume a different identity, seize everything from Daoist Zhang, kill the old Daoist to vent his anger, and reclaim all the money he had spent over the years. By then, even if the Celestial Masters' Manor wanted to investigate, they wouldn't find any trace of him.

Thinking of this, Lin Zhao picked up his teacup and took a sip, his eyes filled with smugness—this plan was truly brilliant.

In the twenty-fourth year of Great Ming's Jingli calendar, during the season of Flowing Fire.

The scorching sun hung high in the sky, baking the earth until it was hot. The wild grass outside Lin Family Fortress had wilted, but within the fortress, everything was orderly: soldiers sweated profusely on the training grounds, craftsmen clanged away in the blacksmith's shop, grain in the granaries was piled high, and even the patrolling scouts were several more teams than usual.

As for the news from outside, it came in steadily from Lin Zhao's informants planted in the branches of the Vagrant Alliance. Among this information, two pieces caught his particular attention.

The first was the Night Raven Tower. Since Tie Shan's assassination attempt failed, this organization had seemed to vanish, never sending another assassin to harm him. Even the investigation into the massacre of their Northern Garrison City stronghold had come to a halt—after all, everyone in the stronghold that day had died, and it had been burned to the ground, leaving no trace. It was impossible to investigate.

But Lin Zhao didn't dare to relax at all. He sat on a stone stool in the training grounds, his fingertip resting on the hilt of the Frost Condensation Sword, a cold glint flashing in his eyes: "The Night Raven Tower, like insects in a gutter, are best at playing dead. They might pop out and bite at any moment. We must not let our guard down."

The second was the Grand Governor of the Northern Frontier Protectorate, Duke Wei. This powerful noble had also made no move whatsoever. Lin Zhao knew clearly that the Duke was either busy with border military affairs and had forgotten about a "small fry" like him, or he was brewing a major move, intending to eliminate him completely in one go.

In short, the Northern Frontier was currently as calm as stagnant water, with even fewer horse bandits than before. Yet, Lin Zhao felt uneasy—this tranquility was too abnormal, like the oppressive calm before a storm, always making one feel anxious.

This intuition didn't come out of nowhere; it came from his dealings with the Wild Jackal Gang. In previous years, the gang leader Diao Kui would personally come for every transaction. If the goods Lin Zhao delivered were insufficient, he would even pound the table and complain. But this year, it was a subordinate of the leader who came. He spoke hurriedly and left without even sitting down, clearly indicating that the leader was too busy to bother with a small supplier like him.

What made Lin Zhao even more concerned was that the subordinate wore a newly forged curved saber at his waist. As he spoke, his chin was slightly raised, and his tone carried an unconcealed arrogance. Lin Zhao watched his retreating back and sneered inwardly: "It seems the Vagrant Alliance in the Northern Frontier has gathered enough strength and is just waiting for an opportunity to cause a major upheaval."

"However, I am no longer the pushover I once was." Lin Zhao stood up, his gaze sweeping over the scouts on the training grounds, his eyes filled with confidence—he now had the means to protect himself!

Over the years, Lin Family Fortress's annual income had more than quadrupled, enough to support his cultivation expenses and the scouts' military pay. Coupled with the spoils from several ambushes on horse bandits, Lin Zhao was no longer short of money. For someone like him, who had no political ambitions, having enough money to spend was sufficient.

The fifty scouts had long since formed a proper unit. The warhorses they rode were all fine breeds selected from the Northern Frontier horse farms, running like the wind. The armor they wore was the latest Bincheng Iron Armor from the blacksmith's shop, difficult for blades and spears to penetrate. The long spears in their hands were hardened and sharpened. In addition to the scouts, the fortress's infantry had also been significantly expanded, all of them burly men capable of wielding sabers.

The population of the fortress had also increased considerably compared to before. Most of them were refugees fleeing from the north—the Northern Frontier had been cold and chaotic in recent years, with the Snow Barbarians occasionally raiding south. Many people, having no other recourse, could only flee south. This also significantly reduced the cost of recruiting tenant farmers, and Lin Zhao took the opportunity to recruit many hands, both for farming and for martial arts training.

Even the fortress walls of Lin Family Fortress had been reinforced by several layers, and armor-piercing ballistae were mounted on the ramparts—these were no joke. When the bolts were fired, they let out a whistling sound and could penetrate iron plates three fingers thick. Even a Martial Master would have to think twice before charging.

Those three Northern Mystic Arm Snow Apes had grown increasingly ferocious. Lin Zhao was contemplating that in a few more years, he could forge armor for them, turning them into three great killing machines on the battlefield!

Developing in this silent manner, the overall strength of Lin Family Fortress and Lin Zhao's personal cultivation were steadily advancing, like a tree silently taking root, growing lush and verdant without anyone noticing.

While cultivating, Lin Zhao had not forgotten his skills as a craftsman. After being promoted to Grand Master Craftsman, the first thing he did was to upgrade his own equipment—the Frost Condensation Sword was no longer what it used to be. The current Mystic Frost Sword - Style Three had a blade that exuded a chilling cold light, its edge could easily slice through the air, and when held, Internal Breath could even flow through the sword hilt.

After resolving his own equipment, Lin Zhao began to forge weapons and armor for the people in the fortress. The furnaces in the blacksmith's shop burned day and night, their fiery glow illuminating half the sky.

He was bare-chested, his bronze muscles covered in sweat. Each drop of the hammer in his hand was precise—the Grand Master-level Bincheng Mountain Pattern Armor had anti-slip patterns carved on its plates, making it light and sturdy; the Azure Gang weapons had blades that gleamed with a blue light and wouldn't even chip when striking stone; and the armor-piercing bolts had arrowheads quenched with fine iron, specifically designed to penetrate armor. Lin Zhao's goal was simple: to equip everyone in Lin Family Fortress with top-tier gear!

As the end of the Molten Iron Moon approached, with the blessings of the "[Hundred Refinements Return to Origin, Ultimate Craftsmanship]" special effects, the weapons Lin Zhao forged were more than enough for everyone in the fortress, with plenty left over.

One night, under a moon as pale as frost, Lin Zhao wrapped a newly finished Grand Master-grade Azure Gang longsword in a cloth bag. His figure, like a phantom, slipped out of Lin Family Fortress and headed towards Northern Garrison City.

"My strength is sufficient, and my craftsmanship is also enough. It's time to let this northern frontier know that there's a Grand Master Craftsman like me here." Lin Zhao's footsteps didn't falter, his eyes filled with confidence—he had long decided on a pseudonym and title. From now on, the martial world would not only know the name Lin Zhao but also the craftsmanship of "Master Craftsman" Shen Luo!

In the night wind, one could almost hear his low murmur, filled with youthful ambition:

"Hundred Refinements Heavenly Craftsman Shen Luo!"