Talisman Arts

Dawn had just broken, yet the chill had not dispersed. March was still somewhat cold.

Beneath the peach tree, seated on a stone bench, Jiang Chen looked at the braised pork, stir-fried vegetables, seaweed egg-drop soup, and steamed buns before him. His lips pressed together as he picked up his chopsticks. After hesitating for an instant, he lifted a piece of braised pork and put it into his mouth.

He chewed slowly. The soft, glutinous texture and just the right hint of sweetness left Jiang Chen speechless for a moment. At this time, the only sound in the entire little courtyard was the breeze brushing through the treetops.

"Not bad."

The meat settled in his stomach, its lingering flavor still unspent. Jiang Chen gave his assessment.

To be honest, the braised pork Stone had brought was merely ordinary, at most generous in portion. After all, the River-Sweeping Bandits had limited means. But Jiang Chen had come from the apocalypse and had not eaten such normal food in a very long time. This was the flavor of his childhood—or rather, the flavor in his memories. Tasting it again now was naturally wonderful. It was a matter of sentiment.

He ladled himself a bowl of soup and looked at the meat dish, vegetable dish, and soup before him, savoring them carefully. He ate very, very slowly, as if he wanted to carve the taste of every dish into his memory.

After a long while, full and satisfied, Jiang Chen finally stopped.

"The previous owner of this body was one of the River-Sweeping Bandits' major leaders. His status was not low, beneath only the three chiefs, so naturally his meals were decent. If I want better food among the River-Sweeping Bandits, I'll probably have to rise another step. After all, according to Jiang Wang's memories, each of the three chiefs has his own private cook."

"Especially Ironman Tu, the chief. His private cook used to be the head chef of a major restaurant, and legend has it that his ancestors even produced an imperial chef. In Qinghe County, no one can likely rival him in cooking. When Ironman Tu was drunk before, he even claimed that not even the county magistrate ate as well as he did. It seems that wasn't groundless."

His thoughts spread outward, and the food before him made Jiang Chen think of the River-Sweeping Bandits' structure.

The River-Sweeping Bandits were a powerful bandit force entrenched within Qinghe County, with several hundred bandits under them and considerable strength. Quite a few had trained in martial arts. Those who could become minor leaders had generally cultivated some rudimentary martial skills, while all six major leaders had their own signature arts, having trained at least one martial art to the proficient level. In the martial world, they could rank among the second-rate; they were genuine formidable men.

As for the three chiefs, each had cultivated a martial art to major accomplishment. Splitting steles and shattering stones was nothing out of the ordinary for them. They were true first-rate figures. It was precisely because of their presence that the River-Sweeping Bandits could gain a foothold on Wooden Fish Island, unafraid of wind and rain.

"The River-Sweeping Bandits' three chiefs: Zhao Meng, the third chief, with his Seven-Injury Fist; Zhou Quan, the second chief, with his Sky-Eagle Claw; and Ironman Tu, the chief. With my current strength, the first two are nothing to fear. I've initially tempered my body. Though pure physical strength may not necessarily be enough to defeat them, I still have my soul ability. If I truly wanted to kill them, it wouldn't be much of a problem."

"The only one worth worrying about is Ironman Tu, the chief. His background seems somewhat unusual, and no one knows his true name. Most crucially, he isn't merely a first-rate martial artist. He is suspected to have cultivated a talisman art, making his body like gold and iron, difficult to harm with blades or swords, and granting him immense strength."

As his thoughts settled on Ironman Tu, Jiang Chen sank into deeper contemplation.

Cultivation in this world was quite strange. True spells could only be used after advancing to Qi Refinement, opening one's qi sea and dantian, and condensing true qi. Those in the Inspiration Realm could not control such mysterious spells; they could rely only on the strength of their bodies.

However, later generations had broken spells apart and simplified them, giving those in the Inspiration Realm the possibility of wielding extraordinary power. These were talisman arts. Some talisman arts could even be cultivated by ordinary mortal martial artists, their sole flaw being that they required a far greater price.

Since ancient times, martial artists who forcibly wielded cultivation arts with mortal bodies had generally struggled to meet a good end. Even so, martial artists had never ceased pursuing talisman arts. Some wished to gain greater power from them, while others wanted to find within them the possibility of cultivation.

"I've only just arrived, and my knowledge of the outside world is limited to Jiang Wang's memories. Though the River-Sweeping Bandits are a den of tigers and wolves, compared to the darkness and unknown beyond, this is instead a rare safe haven for me. After all, this is what I know best. Besides, with my current strength, I can barely count as a crouching tiger among the River-Sweeping Bandits. Who devours whom is still uncertain."

All kinds of thoughts flashed through his mind. Weighing the pros and cons, Jiang Chen made his decision: for now, he would settle down in this bandit stronghold. The stronghold was hardly a good place, but judging from Jiang Wang's scattered memories, the outside world was no better.

Most importantly, in Jiang Chen's view, compared to the apocalypse he had once endured, the atmosphere within the River-Sweeping Bandits was actually fairly good.

"A tiger may have no intention of harming men, but men harbor the heart to harm tigers. Since I've decided to settle in this bandit den, I need to hunt that White Deer as soon as possible. Its heart's blood is an essential ingredient for cultivating the talisman art, Bloodflame Art."

"Once I master this talisman art, I'll be more certain when facing Ironman Tu. There has never been a truly safe place in this world, but as long as I am strong enough, every place will be safe."

The apocalypse had forged him in iron and blood. He trusted only his own strength. Jiang Chen quickly finalized his plan, and once he had made his decision, he wasted no time. He immediately began packing some things: mainly antidote pills, medicine for wounds, and an iron-backed bow.

Once that was done, Jiang Chen summoned Stone again and gave him a few instructions. Then, alone, he entered the mountain range behind Wooden Fish Island.

"Rooster-Cry Mountain."

His body was like a willow catkin, carefree and nimble. Jiang Chen came to a stop atop a massive boulder. A single moment of enlightenment had allowed him to train the Willow-Catkin Body-Nourishing Art, this active cultivation art, into his very bones.

The former Jiang Wang had spent years painstakingly cultivating the Willow-Catkin Body-Nourishing Art, eventually deriving a palm technique from it and earning the name Heart-Severing Palm. Now, with the Willow-Catkin Body-Nourishing Art as his foundation, Jiang Chen had not only raised the original palm technique to a higher level, but also developed a movement technique from it. His body was like a willow catkin, moving with the wind.

"Truly, poor mountains and vicious waters."

His gaze fell upon the dim forest ahead, its canopy concealing the daylight. Jiang Chen looked thoughtful. After observing for only a moment, he had discovered several dangers: venomous snakes hid beneath the dead leaves, poisonous insects lurked among the branches, and predators watched from the darkness.

"Legend says there is a mutant venomous snake in Rooster-Cry Mountain. It is three feet long, with pitch-black scales and a cockscomb growing from its head, crimson as blood. Its venom is so deadly that even immortals and gods cannot save one bitten by it. I wonder whether I'll encounter it this time."

With that thought, he hesitated no longer. Carrying his bow and arrows, his body like a willow catkin, Jiang Chen drifted into the dense forest and was ultimately swallowed by the darkness.

And as Jiang Chen entered Rooster-Cry Mountain alone, someone on Wooden Fish Island also turned his gaze toward the mountain.

"So he truly cares greatly about the White Deer. The moment he received word, he rushed there without being able to wait."

Under the faint daylight, a figure stood gazing into the distance at Rooster-Cry Mountain, his eyes filled with gloom.