For a time, dull whooshes rang out one after another in the courtyard.
Greatsword in hand, Han Yu practiced again and again.
With every swing, the blade stirred up a fierce gust, sweeping great clouds of dust from the ground.
Her movements were simple and direct, focused entirely on finding the key to circulating her qi and blood between exerting force and drawing it back.
Yesterday's swift, decisive fight had firmly stabilized the surging qi and blood within her at the second realm.
Now, with every swing, she carefully felt the path along which force traveled through her bones.
Nearby, Lu Chang'an sat cross-legged on the dirt, his eyes tightly shut.
He was practicing the Blood-Locking Art.
The pain of forcibly changing his muscles' habitual exertion and his breathing rhythm for the first time far exceeded what most people could imagine.
Lu Chang'an was drenched in sweat, an unnatural flush spreading across his skin and veins bulging on his forehead.
Even as the pain left his entire body trembling, the youth kept his teeth clenched, swallowing every cry of pain.
Su Yueli quietly watched the two disciples' progress, her gaze deep.
Both disciples had sufficient perseverance, and their foundations for beginning cultivation were already laid.
But as their qi and blood continued to grow stronger, their energy consumption would become increasingly terrifying.
Martial Dao cultivation was, in essence, a process of ruthlessly squeezing the flesh dry and restructuring it.
The ordinary grains mortals ate could not possibly provide enough energy to replenish their qi and blood.
To break through realms quickly, they had to rely on natural treasures or pills containing highly concentrated energy.
If Lu Chang'an ate nothing but a few coarse-grain flatbreads each day, his body would sooner or later collapse completely from excessive depletion.
If the Eternal