The forest was a crushing black mass, yet its green was as deep and still as jade water. The mountains were the color of dark ink, a sweeping tapestry of forest exhaling the scents of countless plants.

Yet, somewhere within this exquisite wood, a life-or-death struggle between man and beast was unfolding. This was a battle where compromise was nonexistent, a sheer fight to the death; here, humanity’s inherent greed was laid bare.

Those standing atop the food chain sought to crush everything beneath their feet, leaving not even the potent Spirit Beasts untouched. However, hunting a Spirit Beast was undeniably perilous work; even masters of the Tenth Layer of Inner Strength could not guarantee an easy victory.

As the Golden Crown Python shrieked in pain and lashed out, the great saber in He Wude’s hand was jolted skyward, arcing directly toward He Yiming. He Yiming, whose attention had been locked onto the brutal man-beast conflict, saw with perfect clarity the moment the Golden Crown Python snapped its massive jaws and lunged for his grandfather.

In that instant, He Yiming’s focus sharpened to an unprecedented degree; the blood within him seemed to surge upward, and he abruptly entered a realm he could never have imagined. Unnaturally, he did not emit the futile, miserable cries common to the other He family members.

Instead, with the slightest pressure of his feet, he shot forth like an agile swallow. His body twisted and bent mid-air, bringing him alongside the great saber high above.

With a simple reach, the massive saber, weighing over three hundred jin, settled into his grasp as if it possessed no weight at all. His descent was not triggered by the blade’s mass; rather, he flicked his wrist, neutralizing the force clinging to the saber, and used that very momentum to accelerate, arriving before the fallen He Wude with breathtaking speed.

The world swam before his eyes, and a giant serpent head rushed toward him like a projectile. He could almost taste the fetid stench spewed from its mouth, and he felt the chilling illusion of being fixed in the gaze of those emotionless little eyes.

Yet, his movements did not falter for a second. In the flash of that lightning-quick exchange, his hands clamped down firmly on the central grip of the hilt.

He held the massive saber vertically before his chest, one hand pointed directly at his brow, the other raised high above his head. This heavy weapon, once the source of He Wude’s renown throughout Taicang County, was hoisted aloft.

Even under the muted sunlight, the gleaming blade shone with a dazzling brilliance. His Inner Strength instantly surged to the Ninth Layer.

At this moment, the slightest inclination to conceal his power vanished from his mind. Ninth Layer Primordial Chaos Force.

Ninth Layer Rippling Water Art. Ninth Layer Blazing Fire Technique.

These three distinct disciplines, possessing entirely incompatible attributes, began to operate simultaneously. “Crack!” His garments seemed to erupt, billowing as if a Category 10 typhoon had suddenly materialized around him, centered on his body.

His not-so-tall frame began to radiate an aura capable of swallowing rivers and mountains. He became like the towering, jagged peaks that have stood between heaven and earth since the creation of the cosmos.

He was like the ancient War God whispered of in legend—the one who swept across the land, battling heaven, earth, and man, never bowing to any being. He was like the peerless Sage Emperor of the Mythic Age, one finger pointing to the sky, the other to the earth, proclaiming sovereignty over all realms.

At this precise moment, as the three main Ninth Layer Inner Strength techniques unleashed their full potential, He Yiming ceased to be merely He Yiming. Mountain Cleaving Thirty-Six Forms, Tenth Style… A brilliant light ignited on the blade’s edge, shimmering with shades of pure light, fiery red, and deep azure, arcing down toward the gaping maw.

A tremendous boom echoed out, akin to two colossal meteors colliding and exploding in the void, the sound reverberating for miles. Within a radius of several li, every living creature shuddered violently.

The smaller animals promptly swooned into unconsciousness, while the medium and large beasts tucked their tails tight and fled in the direction opposite the sound. ※※※※ When the great serpent’s jaws met the saber, time seemed to pause for a brief instant.

Then, for the first time, the massive serpent head was violently flung upward. Higher and higher the head flew, higher and higher… Until even the body was lifted from the ground.

The python, thick as a barrel, ascended as if gifted with wings, soaring toward the high heavens until its entire ten-meter length was airborne. The dense, interwoven branches above, tall enough to blot out the sun, snapped clean away.

This section of the forest was suddenly rent by a straight, gaping hole, allowing the piercing sunlight to stream down unimpeded. Everyone stared upwards, mouths agape, watching the Golden Crown Python blasted into the air as if paralyzed.

The behemoth smashed through countless branches, traveling dozens of meters before finally plummeting from the sky. Another deafening thud signaled the giant serpent’s heavy impact amid the scattered leaves.

Its pointed tail gave one slight, unconscious twitch, and then it lay utterly still. The entire forest seemed to descend into absolute silence.

Even the most raucous birds had vanished without a trace. As if by unspoken agreement, the stunned gazes of the onlookers slowly swiveled back, converging entirely upon He Yiming.

There he stood, still holding the great saber in the posture of that Mount Hua-splitting strike. But his feet were now deeply embedded into the earth.

That single blow had pushed the might of the Tenth Style of the Mountain Cleaving Thirty-Six Forms to its absolute limit—indeed, it was a feat that surpassed his current cultivation level. Even the ancient master who forged the Mountain Cleaving Thirty-Six Forms must never have imagined that someone at the Ninth Layer of Inner Strength could unleash such devastating power from that style.

This power absolutely exceeded the known limits of ordinary Inner Strength cultivation. Slowly, He Yiming’s body swayed.

He could hold on no longer. The meridians within him had suffered an unimaginable, crushing impact.

He coughed up a mouthful of blood, his hands dropped limply to his sides, and the saber clattered loudly onto the ground. That inexplicable, awe-inspiring strike had instantly depleted every last vestige of Inner Strength within He Yiming.

One strike—it was a true expenditure of every resource. Following this blow, even He Yiming could not withstand the violent shock to his internal pathways and blacked out.

A pair of calloused hands suddenly reached out and steadied He Yiming, who was on the verge of collapse. “Quanming,” the old man’s voice boomed, thick with anxiety, “Heal him quickly!” He Quanming snapped awake, moving in a flash to the old man’s side.

He extended one palm flat against the elder’s back. Among the second-generation disciples, only he cultivated the Wood element discipline, which was exceptionally effective for treating internal injuries.

He Wude struck back, knocking his hand away. “Idiot!

Tend to Yiming!” He Quanming’s face flushed slightly, and he immediately took his son’s limp body, pouring his Eighth Layer Wood element Inner Strength without reserve into He Yiming. Moments later, a profoundly strange expression settled on He Quanming’s face.

By now, even the third generation, including He Yitian, had gathered around. As for the Golden Crown Python, which looked undeniably dead, no one spared it another glance.

Seeing He Quanming’s look, a heavy feeling settled in the onlookers’ hearts. He Wude demanded sternly, “What is it with Yiming?” He Quanming hurried to explain, “Father, Yiming is fine.

He is healing himself.” “Self-healing?” The crowd exchanged confused glances. They had never heard of the Metal element Inner Strength possessing self-healing properties.

He Quanming affirmed, “Yes. Yiming’s inner strength should be the Water element Rippling Water Art.

Although his energy is critically low now, it is regenerating on its own.” He paused in thought, then declared firmly, “He must have expended all his Inner Strength suddenly, causing him to collapse from exhaustion. He will wake up shortly.” He Wude and the others finally relaxed.

He Quanyi suddenly interjected, “How did Yiming do that just now?” The assembled group fell silent. The thought of the power unleashed by that single strike sent adrenaline surging, yet simultaneously chilled them to the bone.

If that blow had been directed at them, escape would have been impossible. “That strike,” He Wude said slowly, “That was Yiming condensing all his Inner Strength into a single point instantaneously, combined with the innate battle technique, allowing for such might.

But how he managed it, I simply do not know.” He Yiming’s body suddenly stirred; he was finally conscious. All eyes immediately fixed upon him.

This time, even He Yitian’s gaze held not a trace of jealousy. Having witnessed that earth-shattering strike—a blow even the Patriarch could not have delivered—his entire perspective had calmed completely.

“Yiming, how do you feel?” He Quanming asked cautiously. He Yiming shook his head, taking an internal inventory.

The Inner Strength that had been completely discharged was now slowly returning. The pace was slow, painstakingly gradual, but the sensation was undeniable.

He tried to lift an arm but found his limbs numb and weak, and his meridians throbbed with a faint burning pain. Fortunately, the circulation of Inner Strength within him seemed to be gently warming and nourishing the pathways, suggesting no irreversible damage had occurred.

“Father, I’m fine. Just a bit drained.” Hearing his words, He Wude and the others eased their concern slightly.

“The Golden Crown Python? Is it dead?” He Yiming abruptly recalled the moment he had wielded power as if possessed by a god, and inquired about his opponent.

He Wude glanced toward the motionless giant serpent. “Rest assured, it’s dead.” He stood up.

“Everyone, pack up. We need to leave quickly.

Quanxin, Quanming, you two are responsible for Yiming. Make a stretcher; don’t let him sustain any more injuries.” The crowd assented with a collective murmur and scattered.

He Yiming keenly sensed that the attitude of everyone toward him had subtly shifted once more… Ps: I checked the list of sponsors today and already have one Sect Leader, A-Wen, and four Deacons ^_^ Additionally, there are Apprentices, Students, and numerous friends who gifted White Crane with rewards—thank you all… For a book that hasn't even officially launched, achieving this level of sponsorship success is more than satisfactory for White Crane. I seem to recall the old book only started seeing Sect Leaders halfway through.

Furthermore, to the brothers who support White Crane daily with recommendation tickets, your loyalty is something I will never forget. It is your recommendations that have brought me this far.

White Crane promises to work even harder and repay you all with more spectacular chapters. Thank you…