Young Eagle Takes Flight Formula

The Immortal Sect was unlike any cultivation sect currently known. It was highly unusual.

Inherited from the previous era of civilization, it placed enormous importance on ordinary people and did not regard them as a swarm of ants whose sole purpose was to produce cultivators with spirit roots.

The Young Eagle Takes Flight Formula, Sixty-Eighth Set was born from this very philosophy. It had been established as a special project on the first day cultivators were discovered, over ten thousand years ago. After the painstaking improvements of generations of Immortal Sect sages—including Spirit Transformation patriarchs and large numbers of Nascent Soul Cultivators—it had now undergone sixty-eight iterations.

Even now, one of the core main execution threads of the Central Array-Spirit Computer was still deducing the sixty-ninth generation of the Young Eagle Takes Flight Formula.

If there were a breakthrough, even contemporary Spirit Transformation patriarchs might devote themselves to it and speed up its development.

This was an utterly groundbreaking breakthrough in the cultivation world.

Those sects and holy lands, large and small, might possess such capabilities—or perhaps they did not—but they would never invest vast resources and high-level cultivators into something like this.

Every high-level cultivator with four spirit roots who had flared briefly across history had encountered a heaven-defying opportunity. There was simply no possibility of replication.

The Young Eagle Takes Flight Formula, Sixty-Eighth Set was a universal textbook on Blueglow Star. It included sword arts, saber arts, fist arts, staff arts, and everything else besides. Whatever one wanted, one could find it within.

What Jiang Ding cultivated was the <Eagle Hatchling Takes Flight Sword Art, Sixty-Eighth Set>!

Unfortunately, the difficulty of a cultivation art often matched its effects!

He had begun learning martial arts at seven and had practiced for nine years now, yet he was still only at the proficient stage, far too distant from minor mastery!

How could he temper his bones and marrow until internal qi was born like this?

Jiang Ding's aptitude might have ranked at the bottom on Blueglow Star.

But he was still at the bottom among Blueglow Star martial artists!

With the Banyan City Array-Spirit Computer assisting him, he would have been a genius among geniuses in any lesser world that possessed only martial arts inheritances—a dimensionality-crushing existence. It would not have been strange for him to have already reached the peak of the internal qi realm.

And that was indeed the case. If he had cultivated any martial arts technique other than the Young Eagle Takes Flight Formula, he might even have had hopes of reaching the innate realm by now.

The only downside was that the path of cultivation would be severed.

Most mortal martial arts had been created by mortals and low-level cultivators. With their capabilities and knowledge, they simply could not make them connect to cultivation.

The process of cultivating mortal martial arts was one of forcibly destroying countless tiny meridians that martial artists could not observe, causing already abysmal aptitude to fall beneath even the floor.

Even if one forcefully switched to cultivation techniques from the innate realm, risking nine deaths for one chance at life, success would at most lead to the first or second level of Qi Refinement, while drastically shortening one's lifespan.

"Today, I'll continue cultivating the <Eagle Hatchling Takes Flight Sword Art, Sixty-Eighth Set>." Jiang Ding took a blue steel sword from the weapon rack.

It was styled after an eight-sided Han sword, 1.3 meters long and sharpened. Its forging material was N2702 Spell-Breaking Steel, which naturally carried a weak spell-breaking effect that could be enhanced slightly by infusing it with internal force.

This material was also commonly used to make bullets. At supersonic speeds and while spinning, it could ward off a certain degree of cultivators' divine-sense interference, preventing a bullet from veering away from its original trajectory at the slightest brush of divine sense.

He placed his hand on the sword hilt.

In an instant,

the little figure beneath the light screen moved.

It stretched its limbs, its body gradually enlarging until it matched Jiang Ding exactly in height, shoulder width, arm length, and every other respect. Only, its body was formed of pale blue light. Every muscle, every bone, every tiny meridian was clearly visible, each marked with small labels.

"Preparatory Form."

At the mechanical voice, the blue figure moved. Its right foot stepped forward, knee bending slightly. Its left hand rested against the scabbard, while its right hand passed across its waist and settled on the sword hilt.

The surrounding air seemed to freeze.

Though it was merely a human figure made of pale blue lines, without even skin, a heavy, imposing aura spread from it, like a towering pine standing firm.

Jiang Ding knew this was not as simple as gripping a sword.

From his perspective, he could clearly see that the figure's meridians and muscles underwent dozens, even hundreds, of intricate changes in less than half a second. It was as though springs of varying sizes throughout its body were compressing, gathering every kind of force and storing energy for an earth-shattering moment to come.

Nor was the aura an illusion. The human brain had detected danger and issued a warning in this form, urging the body to move as far from the source of danger as possible.

Jiang Ding gripped the sword hilt, assuming a posture identical to the blue figure's, then closed his eyes to feel the force accumulating in his muscles and meridians.

Of his 639 muscles, 52 could not store force perfectly. They were mainly the smooth muscles of the digestive system and bladder, as well as the cardiac muscle of his heart. Even though he had long completed the flesh-tempering realm, he still could not perfectly train the muscles in those areas.

A tiny discrepancy could lead to a difference of a thousand miles.

The result was that he accumulated at least three times less force than the figure before him, even though it had been formed entirely by calling upon data from his own muscles, meridians, and bones, their foundations exactly identical.

"Sword Unfurling Form."

The pale blue figure was like a spring compressed to its limit. In an instant, it went from absolute stillness to explosive speed, using the sword tip as a brush to draw a perfect circle around itself.

Hundreds of muscle lines shifted from tension to release, following a certain pattern, graceful as a piano master performing, brimming with rhythmic beauty.

Jiang Ding followed suit, but the circle he drew always held a trace of disharmony, a slight deviation that prevented him from releasing all the force he had accumulated.

"Arm Sword Form."

"Step Sword Form."

"Organ Sword Form."

"Turning Sword Form."

"Harmonizing Sword Form."

"Dashing Sword Form."

Jiang Ding followed the figure, sword in hand, dancing through the forms. One moment he stepped forward and thrust fiercely; the next, he turned right and slashed. Then he circled a single point, launching a chain of stabbing attacks. The sword blade tore through the air with sharp hissing sounds, and his afterimages filled the training room of over a hundred square meters.

"Hidden Sword Form."

The blade slid silently into its sheath. Jiang Ding's body trembled faintly as he struggled to calm his ragged breathing, slowly expelling stale air. Great streams of sweat poured from his pores, soaking his clothes in moments and plastering them to his skin.

Including the Preparatory Form, the Eagle Hatchling Takes Flight Sword Art had only nine forms. It emphasized extreme speed and explosive power, unifying training and combat. It was an exquisite sword art that exhausted the study of meridians, muscles, and bones. Once cultivated to minor mastery, and paired with a sharp weapon, killing ordinary internal qi realm martial artists would be as easy as lifting a hand—a casual stroke of the sword.

Jiang Ding felt pain everywhere in his body, while his stomach burned like fire.

Taking three steps as one, he picked up the milky-white Essence-Consolidating Bone-Strengthening Soup and drank it in one gulp. Its temperature was still perfect; it had not cooled despite sitting there for so long.

Warmth descended from his throat into his stomach, then spread throughout his body. The searing pain immediately eased.

The Eagle Hatchling Takes Flight Sword Art excavated the human body too deeply, and so it placed an enormous burden upon it. If not for the Essence-Consolidating Bone-Strengthening Soup provided by the school, it would be manageable for a short time, but without long-term nourishment, it would be easy to train oneself into ruin.

Ding!

Delight rose in Jiang Ding's heart, and he hurriedly looked up at the figure before him.

The first vertebra of the body formed from pale blue lines flashed once, changing from 62% to 66%.

"Four percent!"

Jiang Ding was invigorated. "Another ten times, and I can temper the first vertebra to completion. Give me another thirty days—could I break through to the internal qi realm then?"

Without bothering to rest, he immediately took advantage of the time to practice another set of sword forms.

Unfortunately, perhaps because he was impatient, his movements were not precise enough. This time, let alone four percent, he did not even gain one percent of progress.

"So it really was an illusion."

Jiang Ding was somewhat dejected, but he instead calmed down. Slowly, he considered which movements had fallen short and how the rhythm and order of his muscles and meridians differed from the figure's.

In this way, after practicing over ten times in a row, he finally gained something.

The proficiency of the Eagle Hatchling Takes Flight Sword Art increased by one point, becoming Proficient 33%. He had taken another small step toward minor mastery.

Several other vertebrae had also improved by a few points.

Ring, ring, ring...

Before he knew it, class had ended. The pale blue figure slowly vanished, the bright training room lights shut off in sequence, and the door gradually opened.

Jiang Ding spent several minutes washing up, changed into a blue-and-white school uniform, and walked out of the training room.

"I heard those cultivation geniuses improve their techniques by five or six percent every time they train, and their bone tempering rises by over ten percent. With the accumulation of days and months, what realm have they reached by now?"

"Internal qi major mastery? Internal qi completion?"

Jiang Ding pondered silently.

Although No. 1 High School was the best high school in Banyan City and sent the greatest number of students into university cultivation departments every year, its martial arts faculty was not the strongest. Thus, it had failed to attract the top martial arts geniuses, who were mostly gathered at No. 7 Middle School.

Most of the students along the way were returning from the training rooms to their classrooms. Some slumped their shoulders and staggered on unsteady feet, clearly having trained themselves too hard.

People gradually returned to the classroom. Jiang Ding found his seat and closed his eyes to rest.

Soon, a strong stench of sweat drifted beneath his nose.

"How's your progress?" He did not even raise his eyelids.

"Not bad." Li Junhao said in a deep voice, "In a few more months, I should have a chance to break through skin tempering and enter the flesh-tempering realm."

"Keep it up."

Several minutes later, the noise gradually subsided, and Jiang Ding opened his eyes.

Class monitor Hua Bing was standing at the podium at some point.

"Starting from the first row, everyone, collect your backpacks in order." She swiped her student card over the screen on the metal cabinet beside the blackboard. The small doors opened one after another, revealing backpacks of various colors within.

Every student was accustomed to this and retrieved their backpacks in sequence.

Soon, Jiang Ding received his gray backpack and the black sword beside it. He first fastened the sword at his waist, then took a box from his backpack.

He opened it.

Inside lay a black pistol and a magazine full of bullets.

Type 58 Self-Defense Pistol.

Information about the pistol that had accompanied him since middle school instinctively surfaced in Jiang Ding's mind.

Year 10558, Type 58 Self-Defense Pistol, manufactured by Luban Military Technology Company. Magazine capacity: six rounds. It used 7.62-millimeter N2702 Spell-Breaking Steel bullets, with an effective range of fifty meters. Within that range, it could break through the internal-force protection of an internal qi realm martial artist at minor mastery. Two consecutive shots hitting the same point, or three consecutive hits, could break through the internal-force defense of an internal qi realm martial artist at major mastery.

For over ten thousand years, Blueglow Star had been intersecting with the cultivation world. Cultivators or martial artists from beyond the realm would occasionally be abruptly teleported onto Blueglow Star, inflicting grave harm upon nearby residents.

Though Blueglow Star was barren, it occasionally produced a kind of heavenly material and earthly treasure that drove cultivators from beyond the realm mad—Law-Breaking Immortal Gold. They would risk life and limb for it, especially old cultivators nearing the end of their lifespans, who were particularly frenzied.

Therefore, Blueglow Star had long ago fully opened civilian gun licenses to all. Even middle school students were required to begin firearms training.

Of course, it was mainly for self-defense, to buy time to escape. That was why they were issued pistols.

"Disassemble and maintain!" Hua Bing shouted.

Divine sense spread out. The Type 58 pistol floated in the air and disassembled itself into over thirty components, including the barrel, recoil spring, slide, firing pin, and magazine. The bottle of gun oil opened on its own, applying maintenance oil.

Of course, with her sixth level of Qi Refinement cultivation, the Type 58 Self-Defense Pistol was merely symbolic and could provide no protection at all.

The thirty-odd students began as well, clicks and clacks rising one after another.

Jiang Ding's fingers danced like phantoms as he dismantled the pistol into components of varying sizes, then applied maintenance oil to each one before reassembling it.

He was very meticulous, checking the wear on each component and ensuring every bullet was intact. Unlike powerful Qi Refinement cultivators, this was something that truly concerned his safety.

Though Banyan City remained safe and no incident of cultivators from beyond the realm invading and slaughtering people had occurred for many years, he could not neglect preparations.

By the time he had reassembled it and placed it in the holster at his waist, thirty-two seconds had passed.

Looking around, he saw that everyone else had also gradually finished.

"First, firearms must be kept on safety. Begin!" Hua Bing started, and everyone continued.

"First, firearms must be kept on safety, and muzzles must not be pointed at people. Otherwise, it will be treated as drunk driving;"

"Second, on public buses, yield to the elderly and children..."

"...Firearms must not be used for anything other than self-defense."

"Class dismissed!"

"Goodbye, Class Monitor!"

Jiang Ding grabbed his backpack and fled through the window with a leaping step.

He was considered normal. Upstairs, some people directly used lightness skills and the Wind-Riding Art to leap more than ten meters. Others ran to the treetops and vanished with bounding hops. There were even wealthy students controlling flying sword artifacts as they soared gracefully through the sky, drawing envious gazes everywhere.

"That's Gongsun Ling from Class Two. She's also at the sixth level of Qi Refinement. I heard she got her flight artifact pilot's license a few days ago." Li Junhao climbed down while hanging from the window, envy in his voice.

"She's only at mid-stage Qi Refinement. Isn't she afraid of running out of spiritual power and falling?" someone nearby said sourly.

"So what if she falls? It's only a dozen meters or so. It's not like she could get hurt."

Jiang Ding glanced at the sweet, guileless girl in the sky, and his heart was equally full of envy.

A figure in the clouds like her—would he be unable to break her shield or harm her in the slightest even if he emptied every bullet from his Type 58 pistol?

The miserable him could only walk on the ground, backpack on his back, leaving one solid footprint after another.

Boom~

Boom~~

As he reached the school gate, the powerful roars of engines came from far away, rising and falling one after another.

Jiang Ding hurriedly moved aside.

"Hurry up!"

"Ow, slow down, you drivers! The formation's getting messed up!"

A medium tank drove through the school gate. Its 100-millimeter cannon was slightly raised, bright rifling faintly visible within. A 12.7-millimeter dual-purpose anti-air and anti-ground machine gun at its rear side pointed diagonally toward the sky at a forty-five-degree angle. Its armor was smooth and heavy, its five pairs of road wheels turning as students along its path scattered aside.

A dark-skinned student sat cross-legged atop the turret, eyes closed in meditation.

Type 62 Training Tank!

The thought surfaced in Jiang Ding's mind.

Generally, the driver should have been inside the cabin. The front armor of a Type 62 tank could withstand attacks from late Qi Refinement cultivators without damage.

But weak points such as the tracks and cannon muzzle were another matter.

Thus, many cultivators disliked staying in the driver's cabin and instead controlled the tank with divine sense.

"Formation! Formation!"

Behind the tank, twelve senior-year students carried Type 89 Heavy Machine Guns weighing 125 kilograms each. They almost formed two straight lines, following marching formation and keeping strictly aligned with the tank's width. For cultivators, that did not matter, but for those who were still martial artists, whose bodies were fragile as paper, this was the only defense they could rely on after enemy cultivators broke through the interception of their own cultivators on the battlefield.

More than a dozen Type 62 tanks rumbled past, raising dust all over the ground.

"Class Three's back from their wilderness field training."

Li Junhao complained, "This outdated tactic should have been eliminated long ago. The army's active units changed their squad organization ages ago to a tank plus several or more than a dozen self-propelled artillery vehicles. Wouldn't it be much better to wipe out enemies dozens of kilometers away, beyond the divine-sense range of low- and mid-level cultivators?"

Jiang Ding shook his head. "It's not that simple. Cultivators from beyond the realm are increasingly inclined to cultivate concealment techniques or mobile obscuring spells like earth escape and water escape. Our infantry spirit-particle radar cannot always find and lock onto them either."

As they chatted, the two waved goodbye at the intersection.

Jiang Ding stopped beneath the Route 18 bus sign and found a less crowded corner to wait for the bus.

It was already past six in the evening, and there were quite a few people there.

A chattering group of elementary school students contributed the greatest noise and energy. Aside from them were some office workers who looked exhausted. Most had internal qi realm cultivation and carried gun cases on their backs—not self-defense pistols like Jiang Ding's, but combat firearms such as submachine guns and shotguns.

As for heavy machine guns, sniper rifles, and even twin-mounted anti-aircraft machine guns, they could generally be bought and collected, but bringing them into public places was exceedingly difficult. Personal gun licenses for such weapons were rarely issued.

Internal qi realm martial artists filled the streets. Those still in the three body-tempering realms were rare; they were either minors, disabled people, or idle loafers too lazy to train.

This was not to say that the students of Banyan City No. 1 High School, hailed as the best high school in Banyan City, were all slackers. There were only three internal qi realm students in the entire class combined.

Rather, the Young Eagle Takes Flight Formula was actually a cultivation technique. Even with the assistance provided to students by the Banyan City Array-Spirit Computer, its difficulty was beyond imagination.

After graduating from high school, many people—or most vocational school students—would no longer cultivate the Young Eagle Takes Flight Formula. They would instead switch to mortal martial arts, and their progress would naturally become extremely fast.

According to information online, the most popular mortal martial arts at present were the Nine Yang Divine Skill and the Nine Yin Divine Skill. The former strengthened the body and nourished vitality, while the latter nourished yin and enhanced beauty, and its true qi was equally formidable. Either one was enough to serve as the sect-defending martial art of any mortal sect, the kind only core direct disciples could access.

The Lesser Yin-Yang Art secret technique was even more wildly popular.

Even so, the Innate realm was still a threshold only a select few could cross.

An Innate martial artist would have little trouble making it into the middle class.

The bus brakes let out a piercing squeal, followed by a fart-like hiss of escaping air. The elementary school students crowded aboard, chattering away, then it was Jiang Ding and the others. After getting on, he swept his gaze around, found nothing unusual, and took up a spot by the window, holding onto the rail.

He leaned back as wind blew in through the window, bringing threads of coolness.

Jiang Ding silently pondered the circulation paths of the various meridians and muscles in the figure from the earlier cultivation class, combining them with the foundational principles of cultivation methods mentioned in language and mathematics lessons.

Why did the meridians circulate this way in the preparatory stance for maximum efficiency?

Could he alter it a little?

Wooo—

Whooo—wooo—

Screech!

The sudden air-raid siren and braking jolt shook Jiang Ding awake from his thoughts. He gripped his sword hilt tightly, his gaze rapidly sweeping the surroundings.

"Notice from above: cultivators have invaded by breaking through the boundary. Passage ahead is prohibited!"

The driver shouted an explanation, fumbling as he pulled an AK-47 from a cabinet.

"Cultivators breaking through the boundary to invade?"

The bus fell silent for a moment, then erupted into uproar.

"Don't panic! Get off in an orderly manner. The police are already handling it..." The driver was somewhat flustered as well. He opened the doors and organized the passengers to disembark through the front and rear exits.

Fortunately, although Banyan City had not suffered a cultivator invasion for many years, such news still surfaced online from time to time in other places. No one panicked to the point of completely losing control.

Jiang Ding followed the crowd, getting off behind a group of children.

"To the air-raid shelters, hurry..."

"Mom, I'm scared..."

Jiang Ding looked around. The road, bustling with traffic just moments ago, had ground to a halt. Large numbers of citizens were noisily evacuating, while doors had opened in places that had once been walls or lawns, the red air-raid shelter signs glaringly conspicuous.

Schools and companies held air-raid drills every month. Though things were chaotic, the crowd remained fairly orderly.

Whoosh!

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Shrill sounds tore through the air.

"Missiles!"

Someone in the crowd cried out.

Jiang Ding looked up.

One, two, three... over a hundred trails of white smoke wreathed in flames howled across the sky, moving far beyond the speed of sound. They left only afterimages on the retina before vanishing from sight.

.