After advancing to the First-Tier Heaven realm, He Yiming had continued to cultivate this Metal-elemental battle technique. However, once he reached the twenty-first move, he found himself utterly unable to progress further.

He vaguely felt that this technique was indeed profound and boundless. After the twentieth move, it ascended to an entirely new plateau; each additional move mastered revealed mysteries that became increasingly esoteric and unbelievable.

He had originally assumed he wouldn't be able to advance until he could condense a tangible flower. Yet, at this moment, fueled by his remembrance of the elder and his burning anger toward the Totem Clan, he forcefully coerced the twenty-second move out using the combined power of the Five Elements unified.

The might of this move was truly extraordinary. Although He Yiming was utterly exhausted and at his limit, only when he truly unleashed this technique did he comprehend why manifesting it was so incredibly difficult.

Judging purely by destructive power, the damage wrought by the twenty-second move might not necessarily surpass the twenty-first.

However, upon executing the twenty-second move, the surrounding space instantly appeared to solidify, as if frozen by Metal-elemental power. Within this localized area, seemingly nothing could move.

In truth, even in the twenty-first move, a slight hint of this power—the ability to solidify the surrounding space—had already begun to flicker. Sadly, the force of solidification in that move was far too tenuous.

Let alone experts in the Innate realm, even masters in the Post-Natal realm could easily break free from it.

Therefore, this move was only truly viable in a life-or-death clash between evenly matched opponents, or those with comparable strength, as a final, desperate strike.

Under normal circumstances, the opportunity to employ this move was virtually nonexistent.

But having mastered the twenty-second move, He Yiming understood that this technique was not merely a trump card for moments of extreme peril; it could be activated even when facing opponents vastly inferior to himself.

Even if the enemy attempted to flee, the solidification power unleashed by the twenty-second move was sufficient to bind the unprepared foe in place for a significant period.

For a time, He Yiming fell into stillness.

His thoughts, having been intensely focused, strained, sorrowful, and hateful, finally relaxed.

As he lay flat on the ground, he happened to see that his world-shattering strike had cleaved a fissure in the cliff face. The milky-white light emanating from the strange stone hidden within the rock wall began to softly illuminate his body.

He closed his eyes, allowing the white radiance to work its miraculous effect upon him.

He Yiming’s mind was a blank slate.

In that instant, he forgot the heartache, forgot the grief, forgot the hatred. He forgot longing, too.

His eighteen years of life seemed to be utterly erased in that moment.

His mind was like that of a newborn infant, or perhaps a pristine sheet of white canvas yet to receive a single stroke.

All his sensations, all his strength, everything about him seemed to have burst forth and dissipated with the unbelievable release of the twenty-second move.

What remained was merely an ordinary shell, incapable of bearing even the slightest sensation.

※※※※

A breeze drifted past, caressing the lake water, brushing the tender grass, and sweeping across He Yiming's skin.

Within the wind, something seemed to moan, something seemed to sing, something seemed to narrate the mysteries of nature.

He Yiming heard it—from the wind, he heard different sounds...

The sounds of different winds, each carrying a distinct meaning.

There was the gentle, leisurely breeze of a clear day, mild and beautiful, like the feathered fan of a handmaiden swan. It swirled warm currents around him, gently coiling.

He Yiming’s consciousness seemed to detach from his body; he followed this current of air slowly forward, as if he had transformed into a wisp of that same wind, drifting away from his immediate surroundings toward the distance.

Amidst a forest, he encountered the natural mountain winds. These winds carried no dust or grit. They were neither hot nor cold, possessing only a slight coolness, reminiscent of the autumn wind in the northern lands. They were soft, pure, refreshing, and soul-cleansing, caressing his spirit.

He Yiming continued moving forward, and after an unknown duration, he seemed to leave the forest and arrive upon the boundless prairie.

The strong gusts shook the branches of the tall trees, roaring like armies charging on a battlefield, moaning with a chilling, eerie sound that made one shudder.

Here, He Yiming heard fear, heard a reverence that arose from the depths of his very soul.

Abruptly turning back, he saw...

The gale came sweeping over everything, kicking up sand and stone, merging heaven and earth into a single, vast expanse.

A great wind, standing tall like a colossal serpent, its feet planted on the white sand, its head touching the cloudless sky. It swept over small trees, grave mounds, and sand dunes, crushing everything in its rolling path.

This was the power of Heaven and Earth, an energy unleashed by the infinite ambient air, a force no human effort could resist.

In the face of such might, even the most powerful beings appeared minuscule; no one could contend against this force that seemed capable of sweeping the entire world.

He Yiming’s tightly closed eyelids slowly began to turn, like a man gradually rousing from deep slumber.

Finally, he opened his eyes.

The very moment his gaze cleared, a gust of wind rose beside him.

It was a sudden surge, not overwhelmingly powerful, but like an obedient child, it spun constantly around He Yiming’s body. Gusts of air acted like a pair of hands, massaging his limbs, bringing the best possible relief to his exhausted body and spirit.

At last, He Yiming parted his lips and exhaled.

This exhalation was true Qi, and within it coalesced a flower formed of true Qi, not yet fully solidified.

However, unlike the Water Flower he had exhaled before, this new formation held a faint trace of cyan, an ethereal hue that seemed ready to vanish on the next breath.

The cyan flower drifted in the void, like a candle flame caught in a storm, appearing as if it might be extinguished at any moment.

Yet, this tiny flame proved incredibly tenacious, growing slowly yet robustly with unparalleled fighting spirit.

Finally, the spiritual wind encircling He Yiming reluctantly departed his body, immediately spiraling into the small flower.

This infusion seemed to be an infinitely powerful energy; the flower instantly stabilized completely.

He Yiming slowly closed his mouth, and the flower floating in the void surged toward him. By the time his lips sealed completely, the entire bloom had been swallowed within.

A brilliant, crystalline sheen returned to He Yiming’s eyes.

In the moment he lost all power, exhausted every last bit of strength, and fell peacefully, he had perceived the existence of wind, listened to its voice.

For some inexplicable reason, within this very environment, he had unexpectedly condensed the Flower of Wind.

Before this day, he had continuously attempted to condense the Water Flower, gaining countless insights. He himself had believed that the first tangible flower he managed to solidify would surely be the Water Flower.

But today, immersed in this environment, he had manifested the Flower of Wind.

Feeling the fullness within his body—a fullness born from the super-cohesion—He Yiming’s heart was filled with profound sorrow.

The moment he had first gained some proficiency with Metal-elemental power coincided with Elder Shui Xuanjin presenting him with the Clairaudience technique.

Now, after Shui Xuanjin’s demise, he achieved the condensation of the Flower of Wind through a sudden enlightenment concerning the Wind element.

It was all so esoteric and mysterious.

It felt as if, in the unseen realm, the old man had extended one final measure of assistance.

He Yiming’s body stiffened, and he sprang up from the ground. He leaped directly into mid-air, and after seeming to pause for a beat in the sky, his body began to drift slowly downward.

Indeed, he descended like a weightless sheet of paper or a fallen leaf, wafting gently from the heights. A sudden, swirling wind encircled him, gently guiding his body toward the nearby crude stone coffin.

He Yiming looked silently into the coffin. The elder’s appearance had not changed in the slightest. If not for that eerie blackness, the smile on his face would have appeared utterly lifelike.

Finally, the muscles in He Yiming’s face twitched. His voice, though soft, held the unyielding firmness of the mountain range spanning the Northwest, destined never to collapse.

“Brother Shui, rest assured. Tianluo Nation... it rests with me.”

※※※※

The stone coffin was personally interred by He Yiming within this picturesque valley.

The elder had labored for the entirety of his life for the Tianluo Nation. Now that he was gone, he should be allowed to lay everything down and depart in peace.

He Yiming kowtowed three times heavily before the elder’s grave. He turned sharply, his gaze fixed upon the energy stone radiating that mysterious milky-white glow. His eyes burned with a frenzied light.

The next instant, his figure shot across the distance. There was a gap between the elder's grave and the strange white stone hidden in the cliff, but He Yiming did not even shift his physical body before arriving there. Even more strangely, after completing this movement, not a single sound of displaced air was heard.

It was as if he hadn't traversed the space but had vanished from one point and materialized instantly at another.

This, in fact, was the benefit of successfully condensing the Flower of Wind. Relying on this condensed bloom, He Yiming could now exert limited control over the wind energy within a specific surrounding space, directing its flow according to his will.

Of course, this was his current limit—merely manipulating the direction of a small amount of airflow. Furthermore, this airflow could not coalesce into a powerful weapon like the Flower of Wind, nor did it possess any offensive capability.

Even so, this development elevated his light-body movement techniques to an entirely new level.

Were someone to encounter such a phantom-like He Yiming on a pitch-black night, they would surely cry out in terror.

Arriving at the stone wall, He Yiming drew his Great Halberd and began to hack. In moments, he extracted the large white stone.

Once removed from the dim cave, the massive white stone became even more dazzling. But He Yiming’s focus was elsewhere. He brought his Great Halberd down hard several times, prying off several fist-sized fragments from the large stone.

Although these smaller pieces were several times larger than the thumb-sized shards he had taken previously, they were still negligible compared to the entire mass of the large stone.

The surface of the main stone rippled a few times and slowly reformed its original shape.

He Yiming did not hesitate; he placed the large stone back into the rock recess, plugged the opening with the broken fragments, and then, like a gust of wind, drifted one last time near the grave of Elder Shui Xuanjin.

He gazed deeply one final time, then drifted out of the valley.

In the empty expanse of the mountain valley, only the echo of his words lingered.

“Rest assured…”

※※※※

On Hengshan Peak, the clean-up operations had already begun.

This was especially true where the mountain path had collapsed; massive amounts of earth and stone needed to be piled up. For ordinary people, completing this task would be incredibly arduous, but this was the Hengshan lineage.

On Hengshan, every man, woman, and child possessed some level of martial skill; it could be said that every adult had achieved at least the Sixth Layer of Inner Force cultivation.

To experts in the Innate realm, this level of cultivation was utterly beneath notice, but when it came to moving large rocks, it was more than sufficient.

The combined strength of over a thousand people was far more effective than tens of thousands of ordinary laborers.

Just as everyone was working with fervor, a cool gust of wind swept through.

A Post-Natal disciple, at the peak of the Tenth Layer of Inner Force, paused. He looked around suspiciously.

Others nearby inquired, but he shook his head, muttered a few words, and returned to work. Naturally, the rest dared not press him, burying their heads in their tasks.

At this time, all the elders of Hengshan were present, occasionally casting a glance over the proceedings; no one dared to be lazy.

However, on the mountain path, He Yiming’s figure suddenly appeared. He completely ignored those behind him, his feet moving slightly as he floated upward like the wind.

His speed was deceptively fast; in a short time, he arrived at the main peak.

He made no attempt to conceal his powerful aura. Upon reaching the main peak, the other Innate experts immediately sensed his arrival.

They converged upon the main hall with maximum speed, arriving just in time to see He Yiming, calm as a placid sea.

Yu Jinglei and Zhu Baqi had the sharpest eyes. As they approached He Yiming, they paused slightly, their gazes filled with suspicion.

Yu Jinglei, most familiar with He Yiming, knew he had not yet reached the stage of condensing a tangible flower from formless true Qi. Yet, seeing him now, a thought suddenly struck him: the true Qi radiating around He Yiming was far too dense.

Of course, this subtle sensation was something ordinary Innate experts could not perceive.

Even experts who had advanced to the First-Tier Heaven realm but had not yet successfully condensed a tangible flower might not sense it.

However, neither Yu Jinglei nor Zhu Baqi were newly promoted First-Tier Heavens. Though they might never reach the Three Flowers Convergence, having already condensed two Rootless Flowers, they recognized the anomaly immediately.

Yu Jinglei asked, his voice trembling slightly, “Elder He, you... you have succeeded in condensing a flower?”

He Yiming nodded slightly, but there was no trace of excitement on his face.

Zhu Baqi sucked in a sharp breath. This was his first time meeting He Yiming face-to-face. Though he had heard countless legends about him before, none had ever shocked him as profoundly as this moment.

How long had it been since this young man ascended to the First-Tier Heaven realm? Not only had he consolidated his own realm, but he had already condensed a tangible flower.

If the Hundred-Scattered Heaven realm was opening the treasure vault within humanity, pushing open a gate connecting to the energies of heaven and earth and stepping one foot through, then the First-Tier Heaven experts had gained initial insight, formally planting both feet inside.

But once an expert stabilized inside that gate, they had to move forward.

Stagnation meant regression; failure to seek advancement meant the hard-won gate would eventually close.

When a First-Tier Heaven expert, through relentless effort, condensed a sufficiently powerful true Qi, they could then condense a tangible flower.

This tangible flower represented the first step the expert took within that gate—an utterly firm and indispensable step, only after which an infinite future could unfold...

Zhu Baqi’s eyes held an indescribable jealousy. Even as a disciple of the main branch of Tianchi Mountain, possessing a cultivation environment far superior to ordinary First-Tier Heavens, it had taken him a full thirty years to stabilize his realm and take this first crucial step.

Recalling the arduous journey of his past and contrasting it with the present He Yiming, he couldn't help but sigh deeply.

He Yiming’s gaze swept casually over their faces, then he asked, “Elder Yu, where is Bai Lingba?”

If it had been any other Innate expert, He Yiming could have sensed their presence just by them releasing their powerful aura. But Bai Lingba was different; even if he tried to release his aura, it was impossible for him to do so.

“Senior Bai Lingba is waiting for your return in your chambers,” Yu Jinglei quickly replied.

He Yiming nodded to him and turned to leave.

Zhu Baqi’s expression shifted slightly. Although he knew He Yiming’s mood could not be good, treating a First-Tier Heaven expert like himself with such utter disregard seemed excessively arrogant.

Yu Jinglei slowly turned and looked at him with a meaningful gaze. “Brother Zhu, wasn't I the same way back then?”

Zhu Baqi startled, realizing his inner thoughts had been seen through. His old face flushed slightly, followed by a look of deep contemplation.

After a long moment, he let out a heavy sigh, finally releasing that small measure of petty thought.

An eighteen-year-old First-Tier Heaven expert who had already condensed a tangible flower—what was the point of being arrogant, no matter how haughty he was?

Suddenly, he vaguely understood why figures like Suoge had been willing to abandon their dignity and resort to such despicable, near-assassination tactics to strike at He Yiming.

They, too, felt the same way...