Zhao Han couldn't take it, stumbling backward with a thud. As soon as he hit the ground, Zhao Han scrambled up, reaching for his sword, but before he could even fully draw it, Lu Yuan smashed another heavy punch into his cheek.

No matter how Zhao Han dodged, he couldn't escape Lu Yuan's fists. Punch after punch hammered his cheek. At first, Zhao Han tried to evade Lu Yuan's attacks to counter, but every attempt was struck squarely on the cheek, one punch following another in quick succession.

Uppercut.

Hook to the jaw. Left hook.

Right hook.

Straight punch.

Spinning punch.

This felt good! That was Lu Yuan's current sensation. He had always fought with a sword; fighting with a sword and fighting with bare fists were entirely different experiences.

Swordsmanship was elegant, unrestrained, the movements beautiful.

But with fists, it was the visceral feeling of flesh meeting flesh.

Fighting with fists was incredibly satisfying.

Of course, his true essence, the way of the sword, was already ingrained deep within his bones—abandoning the sword for fists was unthinkable. However, occasionally using his fists to brutalize an opponent was certainly not a bad thing. Lu Yuan fought with increasing exhilaration, beating Zhao Han's face into a true pig's snout. Here, "pig's snout" wasn't a metaphor; it was a literal description. Lu Yuan used only a fraction of his magical power with each blow, roughly matching Zhao Han's strength. Punch after punch landed on Zhao Han’s face, swelling it so badly it truly resembled a pig's snout.

It was immensely satisfying at the moment, but the final result was the arrival of the Branch Master, Song Jianjiu.

When Song Jianjiu arrived, he narrowed his eyes, finally passing judgment on the incident. Fighting privately in a side room warranted seven days and seven nights locked in the dark cell.

Naturally, this confinement applied equally to both Lu Yuan, the aggressor, and Zhao Han, the recipient of the beating.

The reason for this judgment stemmed from Song Jianjiu's utter disdain for someone like Zhao Han. In preparation for the Sector Assembly Competition eight months away, Song Jianjiu had been observing the newcomers in his branch. He had already noticed that Zhao Han was merely a sycophant who borrowed prestige; naturally, he disliked and looked down upon him, leading to a ruling that favored Lu Yuan.

Lu Yuan didn't care. Seven days and seven nights in the dark cell? So be it.

He might as well use those seven days to practice martial arts or just sleep. Cultivating his sword skills was impossible because the dark cell was extremely cramped, barely allowing one person to turn around; practicing the sword was out of the question. Thus, sitting in the darkness, he devoted himself to the Cloud Dragon Heart Sutra with rare seriousness, which actually made his cultivation of the technique much more solid.

Zhao Han, however, was truly miserable. He was genuinely beaten into a pulp, and then sentenced to seven days in the dark cell as well. To receive the same punishment as the person who inflicted such damage was infuriating—how could one not be angry? But it was the Branch Master’s order. Zhao Han lacked the power or the courage to defy Branch Master Song Jianjiu. Never mind that he was a direct disciple; as long as he wasn't seriously wounded, the Five Immortals Alliance would not intervene during their tenure there. This was one of the Five Immortals Alliance’s long-standing rules; otherwise, if every sect worried about their direct disciples taking losses, how could the Alliance function? With that thought, Zhao Han hissed in pain again.

Having an unsightly, swollen face was only a small part of it. The nerves in his face, already battered extensively, caused unimaginable pain. In the outside world, he could use elixirs, but locked in the dark cell with no medicine, the pain would simply persist. It brought Zhao Han close to death’s door.

Amidst the endless torment, Zhao Han’s hatred for Lu Yuan intensified. Once he was out of the dark cell, he would immediately find his Eldest Senior Brother and beg him to avenge him, ensuring Lu Yuan was horribly tormented. In Zhao Han's mind, once the Eldest Senior Brother made a move, taking down Lu Yuan would be a simple task.

The seven days passed by quickly enough.

Finally, he could leave the dark cell. Stepping out, the first rays of sunlight felt jarringly unfamiliar. As Zhao Han emerged, he had mentally rehearsed countless strategies and vicious plots, but the memory of Lu Yuan’s beating made him fearful of a repeat encounter. He hurried past without a word.

Lu Yuan paid him no mind. Petty tricks would always remain petty tricks, unfit for the main stage. He needed to focus on his next steps.

What he currently regretted most was the vast haul of Blood Cloud Spirit Beasts he gained from dealing with the Blood Sword Sect Daoist. Unfortunately, without Heaven Pure Water, he couldn't purify them for use. If he could utilize the Blood Cloud Spirit Beasts, reaching the third stage of Body Tempering—Sun and Moon Essence—would not be difficult.

But where could he find Heaven Pure Water?

Legend held that the South Sea Immortal Sect possessed it, and it was rumored to also be found in the Seven Killings Constellation Sea. Both the South Sea Immortal Sect and the Seven Killings Constellation Sea controlled portions of the ocean, so possessing the essence of water, Heaven Pure Water, was logical.

Beyond that, he had also heard that certain places in the desert held Heaven Pure Water. Deserts are places severely lacking water, where moisture is constantly evaporating. However, in spots where water has been repeatedly evaporated over eons, the essence of water, Heaven Pure Water, might accumulate. Coincidentally, the Hundred Mines Province was a desert; perhaps he could find it there.

Of course, the Blood Sword Sword Art was also something he could study when time allowed.

As he walked, he noticed a sign above: "Time until the Tenth Branch Assembly Competition: 257 days..."

Oh, only 257 days left.

After leaving the dark cell, he found that everyone in the Tenth Branch was still hotly discussing who had killed the Blood Sword Sect Daoist. That Daoist possessed immense, formidable power, and his Blood Sword Sword Art was formidable. Such an individual was clearly extremely powerful, and those capable of killing him within the Tenth Branch were few and far between.

Initially, everyone suspected the handful of younger Elders, but they later denied any involvement. Thus, all ten divisions of the Tenth Branch were immensely curious, wondering who had taken down the Blood Sword Sect Daoist.

However, clearly, no one suspected Lu Yuan. How could someone ranked 180 possibly slay the Blood Sword Sect Daoist? It was unimaginable. Even Ling Yu and Zhu from the Ninth Branch, aware that Lu Yuan was in the Tenth Branch, couldn't conceive that Lu Yuan was the perpetrator. The strongest combat ability Lu Yuan displayed during the Five Peaks Competition was defeating Song Nanshan, who was at the first level of Body Tempering.

The Blood Sword Sect Daoist, at the fourth level of Body Tempering, was worlds apart from Song Nanshan at the first level.

In the ensuing days, the Tenth Branch Master, Song Jianjiu, continued to take his top ten disciples on expeditions, seeking out demons and monsters. These top ten were the ones he truly invested in cultivating. The one who satisfied him the most was Zhao Qiankun. Although Zhao Qiankun wasn't the strongest among those he trained in the Kunlun Immortal Sect, Zhao Qiankun possessed the greatest potential. Reaching the Body Tempering stage around the age of forty, his potential seemed limitless. Song Jianjiu even speculated that Zhao Qiankun might break through to the second level of Body Tempering within the remaining eight months.

Besides Zhao Qiankun, there was another young Elder in the Tenth Branch worth nurturing: an Elder named Song Wang, who reached the first level of Body Tempering when he was only a hundred years old—quite impressive.

As for the others, Song Jianjiu didn't spend much time cultivating them. The true Tenth Branch Competition was a contest among elites. He would offer some attention to those ranked twentieth to 150th, but the last fifty disciples were essentially abandoned.

In the days that followed, Lu Yuan naturally began his own form of cultivation. It didn't matter that Branch Master Song Jianjiu wasn't mentoring him; if he were subjected to that kind of training, it would grind away his vitality and strip him of his innate spirit. He casually accepted a mission of moderate difficulty.

Borrowing demons to practice his sword, borrowing demons for his cultivation, improving through combat—this was his method of practice.

Using the Myriad Mile Solitary Stride technique, he reached the outer perimeter of the Tenth Branch area and let out a soft whistle. The sound carried upwards, and moments later, a dark shape rapidly descended. As the shadow fell, its true form was revealed: a Golden-Eyed Eagle. Lu Yuan laughed heartily, "Little Eagle, you truly came..."

Initially, the Golden-Eyed Eagle was quite disgruntled about being used as a mount once, but it was overjoyed after receiving half a spirit stone later. It realized that being Lu Yuan's mount wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Lu Yuan, this human, didn't use various spells to bind it, unlike many of its own kind who were kept imprisoned this way. Not being bound, and getting spirit stones on top of that, was quite favorable.

Little did it know, Lu Yuan detested confining other living beings, except for those beings whose destiny it was to be sealed in Soul Sealing Tablets.

Lu Yuan himself possessed a nature as lazy and free as drifting clouds.

He also understood what an eagle was: an eagle was one that soared freely and galloped across the vast plains and deserts; what was the point if it was confined to one place?

If he desired freedom, the eagle did too.

If he hated being confined, the eagle felt the same.

Do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire.

"Let's go, Little Eagle." Lu Yuan flipped and leaped onto the Golden-Eyed Eagle’s back, pointing in a direction. The Golden-Eyed Eagle let out a low cry and shot straight up into the sky. The fierce wind whipped around them, causing other nearby predatory birds to steer clear of the might of this king of the skies. Lu Yuan's blue robe snapped loudly in the gale.

Lu Yuan laughed loudly, and the Golden-Eyed Eagle cackled in return.

Both man and bird felt an immense sense of exhilaration.

"Then, on to our destination—let's find some demons," Lu Yuan casually indicated a direction, and the Golden-Eyed Eagle beat its wings, slicing through the air. In truth, the Golden-Eyed Eagle was a formidable beast, possessing the strength equivalent to the eighth or ninth level of Qi Condensation. It had fought demons before and feared none of them.

The wind kept howling past. (I was blocked yesterday, so I'm delivering four chapters today. I actually spent a long time thinking about today's draft, planning storylines and various confrontations. Afterward, I decided it would be better to write more freely, more elegantly—me and the eagle finding our freedom, setting aside some conflict, writing something more transcendent. Hence, this chapter and the next.)