Level Thirty, Right-Arm Dragon Transformation

Yang Ming took a deep breath and strode over. The disdain and perfunctory attitude in his eyes when he looked at Zhang Fei were completely gone, replaced by solemnity and appreciation.

"Student Zhang Fei," Yang Ming said in a deep voice, his tone far more courteous than before, "we have all seen your strength. At your level, continuing basic sparring alongside them would indeed be a waste of time."

He paused, then made his decision with a sweep of his hand. "How about this? From now on, you may arrange your training freely. You may use the academy's Mimic Cultivation Arena, Spirit Arena, and even the library whenever you wish. If you need any help, whether sparring partners or medicinal herbs, just ask. The academy will do its best to provide."

A flicker of delight flashed through Zhang Fei's eyes. This was exactly what he needed, and it would be perfect for cultivating the Dragon Transformation Secret Technique.

"Then thank you, Teacher Yang." Zhang Fei smiled faintly.

"All right, disperse!" Yang Ming turned and shouted at the other students. "What are you staring at? He's nine years old and already level twenty-eight. What about you? Go train extra! Anyone who lost today's sparring will run fifty laps!"

"Ah?!"

Amid a chorus of groans, the students scattered.

"Teacher Yang!" Remembering something, Zhang Fei called out to Yang Ming, who was preparing to leave. "Does the academy have a Gravity Training Arena?"

Yang Ming pointed toward a square-shaped training building in the distance. "Yes, over there. It was specially prepared by the academy for core students. The Soul Tools inside can amplify gravity up to five times. But it usually isn't open to ordinary students..."

He patted Zhang Fei on the shoulder and smiled. "But you're different. I'll speak to the academy later. Starting tomorrow, you can go whenever you want."

Zhang Fei cupped his hands. "All right. Thank you, Teacher Yang."

"You're welcome." Yang Ming waved a hand and turned to leave.

Zhang Fei turned and headed toward his own courtyard.

Upon returning to the secluded little courtyard, he hung a wooden sign at the entrance that read, "Cultivating. Do not disturb."

Then he plunged straight into the meditation room.

Inside, Zhang Fei sat cross-legged on a cushion and took out the scroll containing the Dragon Transformation Secret Technique from his storage ring, slowly unfurling it before him.

Zhang Fei focused and read it carefully, firmly committing every circulation route to memory.

According to the secret technique, Dragon Transformation began with the physical strength of a Soul Elder. With every Soul Ring acquired and every increase in physical strength, one could transform one additional body part.

Normally, a level-thirty Soul Elder could transform only one part, a level-forty Soul Ancestor two, and a level-fifty Soul King three. Only upon reaching level seventy as a Soul Saint could one achieve complete Dragon Transformation.

Yet although Zhang Fei had not reached level thirty, his body had been tempered through Ice-Fire Body Tempering and the Singular Velvet Sky Chrysanthemum, making it comparable to that of a Soul King.

Ideally, he should have been able to transform three body parts. For now, he could first attempt one.

"Let's start with the right arm."

Zhang Fei took a deep breath and slowly guided Soul Power into the meridians of his right arm.

As described by the secret technique, he had to make his Soul Power resonate with his bloodline and awaken the Dragon Clan Origin slumbering within his Golden Dragon martial soul.

At first, his Soul Power was like a herd of unruly wild horses, crashing wildly through his meridians. The pain made cold sweat stream down his face, and veins bulged along his right arm.

But as the attempts increased, he gradually found that subtle feeling.

At the entrance to the courtyard, a slender figure silently appeared.

Meng Yiran looked at the wooden sign reading "Do not disturb," pursed her lips, and sensibly turned to leave.

In the days that followed, Zhang Fei lived as regularly as he had at the Crown Prince's Residence.

Every morning at first light, he rose and ran fifty laps around the training grounds as an endurance warm-up.

After breakfast, he spent the entire morning in the Gravity Training Arena.

The gravity rose step by step: onefold, twofold, threefold... When it reached fourfold gravity, Zhang Fei felt as though every lifted leg were trudging through a swamp, and every punch were pushing a massive boulder. Sweat seeped from every pore, leaving him as though he had been pulled from the water.

Under fourfold gravity, he punched, squatted, and sprinted until his muscles trembled beyond control, only then collapsing onto the floor and gasping for breath.

In the afternoon, he returned to the meditation room and secluded himself to study the Dragon Transformation Secret Technique.

Following a particular route, his Soul Power surged into the meridians of his right arm again and again.

The unbearable, tearing agony of the beginning gradually became incomparably smooth.

At night, after using the medicinal bath provided by the academy, he began meditating and cultivating until late into the night.

His Soul Power steadily increased through day after day of tempering. Every improvement was incomparably solid, his foundation as steady as a rock.

Whenever his hands itched for a fight, he went to the training grounds to "spar" with students from the Advanced Class.

They called it sparring, but it was actually a one-sided crushing.

Li Gang, Shi Hu, and the others went from fear at the start, to numbness later on, and eventually even considered it an honor.

After all, being brutalized by such a monster was a form of growth too.

Half a year later.

Inside the meditation room, Zhang Fei's aura raced wildly through his meridians. Every circulation cycle was more surging and violent than the last.

Golden Soul Power roared through his widened meridians like a rushing river, battering against that invisible barrier.

Finally, at a certain moment, the restraint within his body burst open with a boom!

Level thirty!

His Soul Power surged and roared through his meridians like floodwaters bursting through a dam. Wherever it passed, his meridians were further widened and reinforced, and both the quantity and density of Soul Power they could contain increased by several times.

Zhang Fei opened his eyes, and a flash of golden light vanished from them.

He rose to his feet, extended his right hand, and shouted softly:

"Dragon Transformation, right arm!"

"Crack!"

With a crisp explosion of joints, his right arm swelled at a visible speed.

Golden dragon scales surged madly from beneath his skin, covering his entire arm layer by layer and gleaming with a cold, metallic luster under the lamplight.

His five fingers lengthened and thickened, while his nails turned into five curved dragon claws that flashed with chilling light.

His entire right arm had completely transformed into a savage dragon arm!

Zhang Fei felt the explosive power within his right arm and casually swung it.

"Rip!"

Five streaks of golden claw light shot forth, leaving five claw marks several inches deep in the wall of the meditation room.

"So strong..."

Zhang Fei lowered his head to look at his dragon arm and muttered to himself.

He could feel that the transformed right arm had nearly doubled in strength, while its defense and penetrating power had reached a terrifying level. And if it were combined with the Heaven-Rending Claw...

With a thought, dark golden patterns surfaced across the dragon claws of his right hand. The Heaven-Rending Claw fused perfectly with Dragon Transformation, turning the entire dragon claw dark gold and giving off an indomitable, tyrannical aura.

"If I faced Yu Tianheng again now, I could cripple him with a single claw. Even against a Soul King, I'm confident I wouldn't lose."

Zhang Fei smiled confidently, dispelled the Dragon Transformation, and watched his right arm slowly return to normal.

He pushed open the door and stepped out of the meditation room. Sunlight spilled across his face, somewhat dazzling. He narrowed his eyes, a smile curling at his lips.

It was time to obtain his third Soul Ring. The target: ten thousand years!

Zhang Fei returned to his room and took out the elder token She Long had left him, along with paper and brush, quickly writing a brief letter.

He folded the letter, tucked it into his robes, pushed open the door, and strode toward the Spirit Hall branch in Balak City.