Heavenly Demon Calamity

Luo Guanyun drained his cup of tea and glanced at Meng Chuan.

"I made myself clear the other day, didn't I? You're still not giving up?"

"You're still young. You don't have the energy or experience for this. There's no way to reach Mastery in a fist technique without decades of work."

"Besides, you're talking about Guoyi Fist. It took the combined wisdom of the Martial Arts Association's great professors to revise it into its current form. What makes you think you can improve it?"

Hearing that, Meng Chuan naturally refused to give up. He pressed on.

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"Teacher Luo, is there really no other way?"

The kid had done well with his fist practice today and hadn't argued with him, so Luo Guanyun was in a good mood. He folded his arms and pondered for a moment.

"Hmm... There are two things that don't really count as solutions. One is to be born with an epiphany-type trait."

"After mastering a fist technique, such a person might suddenly have an epiphany and improve upon the existing technique."

"The other is to fight for your life."

"Not a match in the ring, but a fight where you stake your life on the outcome. You might find a way forward in the midst of life and death. Of course, I don't recommend it. This is a society governed by the rule of law, and there's no reason for you to risk your life."

Traits were unique talents that a tiny fraction of people were born with. Many useful traits were even rarer than superior bone structure.

For instance, Luo Guanyun's daughter, Luo Meng, had the Ethereal trait. It both accelerated her cultivation and helped her cast aside distracting thoughts, filling her mind with more ideas and inspiration as she practiced.

Her main technique from the Xiangxing Sect, Luan Form, was one she had personally modified from Eagle Form to better suit herself.

After hearing Luo Guanyun's words, Meng Chuan felt truly discouraged. He didn't know what he'd been striving for all these years. Did he still have a chance to break his limits and gain One Proof Eternal Proof?

Meng Chuan didn't practice his fist technique all afternoon. He just lay alone in the corner of the training ground, clutching the illustrated guide to Pao Fist.

Dusk fell, and people began leaving the martial arts school one after another.

Liu Ru couldn't make heads or tails of it. Why had Meng Chuan, who was usually so eager, lost his spark?

Still, judging by the looks of things, the school owner hadn't taken him on as a personal disciple. She still had a chance.

Martial artists rarely took personal disciples. Many put their own cultivation first and never took one in their entire lives, because their time and energy were limited. They had to both teach their disciple diligently and take responsibility for the disciple's words and actions.

In ancient times, taking a personal disciple was an even more solemn tradition of sect succession.

Taking a personal disciple was like taking a child of your own. It wasn't just a matter of receiving long-term instruction and help while learning; it was also a bond of affection and a sharing of experience.

As for the rest, acceptance as an inner disciple depended on the teacher's mood, while acceptance as a nominal disciple depended on one's purse.

For instance, Wang Dong was a nominal disciple, just like Liu Ru. Liu Ru worked as an instructor to pay her fees, while Wang Dong had thrown down cold, hard cash.

"Head out early, Meng Chuan. Don't get back too late."

Liu Ru saw that Meng Chuan was probably in low spirits, so she didn't say anything else.

"I can't give up on Guoyi Fist. Only after I gain One Proof Eternal Proof will I be able to break my limits smoothly while practicing other fist techniques, quickly building up other traits."

But he couldn't keep beating his head against the wall. He needed to work other fist techniques into his training to build up his blood and energy. If he wasted another three years, he wouldn't even make it into Yong'an Martial Arts University. How could he face his uncle's expectations?

It was already getting late. If he wanted to reach the third level of blood and energy before the martial arts exam, he'd have to give it his all with Pao Fist starting tomorrow.

Would he still have time to gain insight into Guoyi Fist? He was just one percent away. Could he really give up?

With his path blocked, even Meng Chuan, who had lived two lives, felt lost.

Meng Chuan didn't take the electric tram home that day. He wanted to walk and clear his head.

The situation in Yong'an City had been tense lately, and the streets were deserted at night.

Though Yong'an City lay in the north of Great Chu, it was toward the south of the northern region. October wasn't cold yet.

As he passed Tong Family Alley, Meng Chuan inexplicably felt a chill, as if he'd fallen into an ice cave. It ran from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet.

"That's strange. There's nothing here."

Meng Chuan looked around but saw nothing, so he continued on, intending to walk around Tong Family Alley.

Curiosity had killed the cat, but he wasn't very curious and didn't want to go into the alley to look around.

Yet Tong Family Alley seemed to hold a strange power, inexplicably drawing Meng Chuan to a halt.

If a martial artist had been there, they would have realized it was the Heavenly Demon Force Field at work.

It was as if two invisible hands in the air were pressing down on his head, forcing him to turn and face Tong Family Alley.

Then, like a marionette, he was moved by the chill, his feet shuffling toward the alley.

The alley's mouth gaped like a demon's, ready to welcome him.

"Damn it! I can't move a muscle."

He'd been so caught up in his thoughts that he'd left late. He hadn't expected to run into a Heavenly Demon!

Breathe. Stay calm. There's still a chance!

This Heavenly Demon hadn't jumped out to smash him with one punch, so it wasn't one of the most brutal Solid Heavenly Demons.

He recalled what his teacher had said in class:

The Great Chu Martial Arts Association divided the Heavenly Demons that invaded reality into three types based on their abilities.

The first were Solid Heavenly Demons, with physical bodies, immense strength, and vicious temperaments.

The second were Conceptual Heavenly Demons. They couldn't directly harm a person's body, but could invade through dreams, faith, and other means. Once their power grew to a certain level, they could affect reality.

"It's not this type either. This thing can directly control my body!"

The third type was the Void Heavenly Demons, the kind most difficult to guard against. They had no physical form and could take on any shape. Only Martial Will could sense them in advance, making them the bane of ordinary people.

"I'm done for. It's a Void-Type."

If it had been a Conceptual Heavenly Demon, he could have pretended to believe in it and looked for a chance to escape.

Void-Type Heavenly Demons were like Solid Heavenly Demons. Once you ran into one, it wouldn't let you live. The only difference might be how you died.

Meng Chuan thought of a way out. He didn't have Martial Will, but he did have the instinct to survive.

"Come on! Show yourself and kill me!"

Meng Chuan taunted it, hoping to catch a glimpse of its true form.

A rustling sound came from the air, and the chill around him grew heavier. Now Meng Chuan couldn't even speak. Controlled, he walked closer and closer to the mouth of the alley.

He could see it more clearly now: the alley stretched farther than he could see, a pitch-black stretch with not a single light on. All the warmth of everyday life had vanished.

Meng Chuan remembered passing by last time and seeing a little girl reading on the steps at the first house. Through the upstairs window, her mother had been knitting a sweater, laughing as she teased the child.

Only after he'd been forced to stand at the alley's entrance could Meng Chuan see the truth clearly. Everything had changed.

The walls on both sides of the alley were covered with people, row upon row, each with a dark-brown hemp rope looped around their neck. Their wide eyes spoke of their unwillingness to die.

At the nearest home, six people—men and women, young and old—hung from a mottled, three-meter-long wall. The little girl was squeezed among them, her small body contorted beyond recognition.

A sinister wind swept through, making the mass of corpses sway as if welcoming him.

At the sight, Meng Chuan's heart filled with rage, like a storm about to break.

He could hear his own heart pounding, again and again, while a violent restlessness surged through his pulse.

"You beast! I swear I'll kill you!"

Thin wisps of white smoke rose from his body. Rage consumed Meng Chuan, and he didn't even notice that his power of speech had returned.

When the body couldn't hold on, the will would help you fight your way out!

The most instinctive power of his body's will was helping him. Meng Chuan roared and bellowed, breaking free of every restraint!

Then, driven by the rage in his heart and his body's instincts, he struck at the pair of invisible hands in midair!

[National Compulsory Basic Fist Technique: Perfected (99%) → Perfected (100%); limits broken]!

Limit-Breaking Trait acquired: One Proof Eternal Proof (Super)

"Once acquired, never lost. Everything practiced will bear fruit."