Before me loomed a massive stone gate, above which were etched several large characters: Dungeon Level One West. To the right of the gate, a wooden board the size of a chalkboard displayed a map of Dungeon Level One West. Next to the map, annotations listed the local monsters and essential precautions. However, such maps and guides were also available in the Ranger’s Handbook, so very few people bothered to stop and look. Certainly not me, as I had a copy tucked securely in my pouch. Furthermore, I had already meticulously committed all information regarding Centipede Cave to memory, according to the Ranger’s Handbook records.

Upon entering Dungeon Level One West in Centipede Cave, one encountered numerous branching paths leading variously to Dungeon Level One North or to the Stone Tomb Creek. Crossing the Stone Tomb Creek brought one to the Dark Zone, the primary training ground for high-level warriors. Rumor had it that the Dark Zone was riddled with hard-shelled, heavily armored Pincer Worms, and occasionally, mutated, massive Pincer Worms. These creatures were dubbed ‘Vile Pincer Worms’ by the Rangers. Compared to standard Pincer Worms, these mutated behemoths were far more terrifying; most inexperienced Ranger teams wouldn't dare engage them, usually opting to evade until they could call for backup from other teams to bring one down. Yet, the Vile Pincer Worms appeared with such rarity—almost a one-in-a-thousand chance—that, for veteran Rangers, the Dark Zone remained a remarkably safe and ideal training ground.

Furthermore, the Dark Zone held several other branching paths leading to perilous locations such as the Nether Realm Sanctuary, the Legendary Tribe, Between Life and Death, Terror Space, Evil Forces, and One Line Sky. These areas were infested with large, mutated Pincer Worms; entering without sufficient strength was a surefire path to death. Long Qi had repeatedly warned me before we set out: never let hotheadedness push you inside.

The deepest part of Centipede Cave was the Coffin of Death. Legends spoke of a terrifying Giant Centipede lurking there, a creature that constantly vanished and reappeared, having slain many Rangers. The Ranger Guild had issued a bounty for its elimination, but to this day, no one had succeeded. Consequently, the Coffin of Death had become a forbidden zone for all Rangers training here—no one dared enter lightly. This instantly reminded me of the Dragon God from Legend, and I suspected that giant centipede must be the same entity.

After many turns, I arrived with the majority of the Rangers at the entrance to the Dark Zone. This was our final destination. As I surveyed my surroundings, I noticed several people watching me. It wasn't surprising; this novice had finally kept up with the main contingent, and now they were waiting to see me make a fool of myself, I analyzed inwardly. In the crowd, I even spotted the large fellow who had initially blocked me, along with his companions, seemingly observing my every move. Well, they cared deeply about my safety, didn’t they? Honestly, I felt a touch of emotion. Accustomed to the cold detachment of modern society, I keenly felt that the people in this world possessed more genuine warmth than those in my own time. I was certain that most Rangers here shared the same thought: if I got into any real danger, they would certainly intervene to save me, then politely urge me to retreat, admitting I wasn't cut out for this. Though a wave of emotion washed over me, I had no intention of giving them a chance to act, nor did I wish to display my swordsmanship before others. So, selecting a direction, I suddenly accelerated, executing several swift leaps and bounds, covering fifty meters in an instant.

“Hey! What’s that kid doing?!” The big guy started to move, ready to give chase, but was held back by the beautiful Taoist priestess.

“Forget it! No need to pursue!” the Taoist priestess said calmly. “Perhaps we worried too much. Look at his speed—it’s astonishing, not at all like a novice Ranger’s.”

“True,” added the tall Mage. “Even if he can’t fight a Pincer Worm, with that speed, escaping shouldn't be an issue. No wonder he dared come to the Dark Zone.”

“Then let’s drop it!” the big guy grumbled, slightly annoyed that his rare act of kindness was being dismissed.

“Heh heh! Alright, let’s put the kid aside for now,” the Taoist priestess continued. “Don’t forget, we’re here to train.”

................ As for the other Rangers, they were equally helpless against Star’s little trick. Naturally, among them were those with sharper insight who had already perceived that, even if Star couldn't win a fight, his ability to flee was intact. They quickly dismissed it and returned to their business.

Although the Dark Zone held many training Rangers, they were generally familiar with one another to some degree. After all, training as a high-level warrior was a long and monotonous process; those who trained here often stayed for years, naturally growing acquainted. A subtle, unspoken understanding existed between each group, and to avoid unnecessary trouble, Rangers tried not to mingle during training sessions. Over time, this led to each group claiming its own specific training territory. Typically, if a newcomer arrived, benevolent veterans would advise them against encroaching on established domains to prevent conflicts. However, this courtesy seemed irrelevant to Star; by now, no one even had the chance to offer advice. Star was currently sprinting northeast at high speed—that direction likely led toward the entrance of One Line Sky.

After running for a while, I confirmed that none of the Rangers who entered the Dark Zone with me were following. I slowed my pace, observing the surroundings as I moved. Pincer Worms were everywhere, and the terrain was uncannily similar to the cave systems in Legend. The worms were distributed with a strange regularity, mostly clustered in the corners formed by sharp turns. Though "corner" wasn't quite the right word, as these turns usually left a large, football-field-sized clearing teeming with dense worms. It seemed each clearing was occupied by a training group, usually numbering around ten members.

I had no intention of invading their space, nor did I possess the strength to enforce such a claim. Thus, I maintained a light jog, searching for a suitable spot to train. Finally, after an entire afternoon, I located a suitable training ground near a large clearing in the northeast. It was remote, far from the main thoroughfares of the Dark Zone, and no other Ranger groups were training nearby. It perfectly met my criteria for seclusion and monster density.

Standing on a large rock at the corner, I looked down at the area below, easily the size of two football fields, blanketed in countless Pincer Worms. They squeezed and shifted against each other like a black, surging tide, emitting a chilling, grinding sound that made my scalp tingle. Yet, my teacher had said this was a superb place to train—large area, dense monsters. Why was it empty? Or perhaps, had no one else discovered this prime location?

But none of that mattered now. Since I had found it, this place was mine. It was time to start training. I retrieved the Hundred Battles Long Saber from my spatial pouch and selected a Pincer Worm cluster that was slightly less dense to launch a tentative attack.

Sensing my swift approach, several Pincer Worms immediately charged. Honestly, the Pincer Worms’ appearance was far more palatable than the disgusting Black Maggots or Worms. They looked exactly like their counterparts in Legend, but being real, they possessed a much greater sense of solidity. They stood about as high as my shoulder, yet they were significantly bulkier than Black Maggots—I estimated their weight was comparable to a sturdy bull. Despite my self-confidence, I cautiously unleashed my full strength for this first engagement.

Compared to Black Maggots, the Pincer Worms were much slower. Of course, even the speed of a Black Maggot presented no advantage against me, let alone these creatures. Meeting the charge head-on, I did not retreat. With one powerful stride forward, I brought the saber down in a heavy, diagonal slash.

Clang! Thwack!

I felt a slight resistance and vibration in my wrist, followed by immediate, unimpeded movement. A flash of silver-white light vanished instantly. It took only one strike to cleave the foremost Pincer Worm in half. However, unlike the gruesome Black Maggots and Worms, the bisected creature did not explode in a sickening mist of blood. Instead, a few thick, black fluids slowly oozed from the severed cut, which was a small comfort. While I wasn't particularly squeamish about gore, I preferred a cleaner environment if possible.

Hmm, their defense isn't that strong, I mused, finding it different from my expectation. Had the sharpness of the Hundred Battles Long Saber simply made dispatching them easier? Despite my internal debate, the saber never paused. As I severed the first worm, I smoothly sidestepped and swept the blade back in a counter-swing toward the nearest second target.

Thwack! The familiar sound of sharp steel piercing flesh. The Hundred Battles Long Saber easily cut through the worm’s black carapace.

Damn, have I really become that strong? Strong enough to effortlessly slice through a Pincer Worm in one blow? I felt a flicker of disbelief. The other charging worms were dispatched just as cleanly, one per strike. This confirmed it: I could easily kill Pincer Worms now. It seemed the boost in strength, combined with this upgraded Hundred Battles Long Saber, made killing a single Pincer Worm as easy as chopping vegetables.

Without reservation, I unleashed the Long Saber and charged fearlessly into the dense swarm. Only now did I fully appreciate my initial wise decision. Damn, this reinforced, extended Hundred Battles Saber is incredible! At a full meter and a half long, any worm too close when I swung was instantly dismembered. Furthermore, every few swings, I launched a Stabbing Sword Qi; the area within twenty meters in that direction became a zone of absolute stillness. It appeared the increased blade length had also extended the range of the Stabbing Sword Qi. If I’d known, I should have made the saber two meters long! Witnessing the incredible power of the weapon, I couldn’t help but fantasize about how I would even wield a two-meter saber. While my mind wandered, my actions remained swift; the Hundred Battles Long Saber moved like the wind, ruthlessly harvesting life all around me.

I lost track of time. I rested when tired, slept when drowsy, and ate when hungry, until not a single active Pincer Worm remained on the field. I was forced to stop. Gazing at the dense carpet of worm corpses, I felt a pang of regret for not bringing some Dongbao along; so much potential resource wasted. I knew it would take at least a week for the worms to regenerate here in such numbers. Helplessly, I pitched my tent, intending to rest before making new plans.

Four hours later, I resumed searching for suitable grounds to train. This Dark Zone was truly vast. Perhaps because I was far from the entrance, few Ranger groups ventured this deep to train. Many locations boasted frighteningly high monster densities, which suited me perfectly. I stopped caring about direction, darting randomly wherever I found an unoccupied, dense area, and began hacking away. Once cleared, I rested; once rested, I killed again. I didn't forget my self-imposed rule: after killing one hundred thousand monsters, I would practice killing them barehanded to better control the Battle Qi within me. I understood clearly that mere potent Battle Qi wasn't enough to become a master. The difference between a master and a mediocre fighter lay in maximizing limited power for maximum destructive effect, which required absolute proficiency in its use. I didn't want to be a brute relying only on raw strength, hence the need for specialized training methods.

I cycled through countless training grounds, but I could feel the energy within me accumulating and surging at an astonishing rate. I attributed this to the fact that, post-Hundred Battles Long Saber acquisition, my monster-slaying speed had reached an even more terrifying peak. Moreover, as the number of barehanded kills increased, I distinctly felt my Battle Qi control becoming far more refined—virtually effortless. This seemed to be the ideal blend of internal and external cultivation. Unexpectedly, as the proficiency of my Battle Qi usage increased, the energy itself seemed to grow purer. It felt as if all the energy was being compressed; the previous feeling of fullness and swelling was gone, yet my strength hadn't diminished at all. On the contrary, it was growing rapidly. I had no baseline for comparison, but the change in my internal sensation was so clear that it indicated an incredibly high rate of cultivation efficiency.

It seemed that focusing on the application, refinement, and compression of internal Battle Qi was just as beneficial for increasing personal strength as simple monster grinding.

Finally, six months later, the Battle Qi energy within me underwent another dramatic transformation.

Boom! The irrepressible Battle Qi exploded outward. The intensity of this energy was shockingly high. Furthermore, the discharge was no longer characterized by the sharp, instantaneous bursts of previous techniques. When the Battle Qi infused the Hundred Battles Long Saber, the eruption ceased. The energy on the blade didn't dissipate immediately; instead, it adhered to the steel as if it were solid matter. The entire saber transformed into what looked like a gigantic Battle Qi sword, radiating staggering waves of energy. This change stunned me. Since I was surrounded by dense monster hordes, I immediately swung the giant Battle Qi sword, commencing a frenzy of attacks. What happened next left me dumbfounded. Every swing of the giant Battle Qi sword generated a terrifying energy ripple, forming a crescent-shaped arc. Every Pincer Worm struck by this arc was cleanly bisected. Unlike the results of merely sweeping with the physical Hundred Battles Long Saber, the destructive power of this giant Battle Qi sword far exceeded my imagination. Each horizontal sweep of the massive sword, which was over ten meters long, covered a striking distance of fifteen meters. This meant that with every single swing, I bisected every monster within a fifteen-meter radius centered on myself.

Crescent Moon Blade?

Was this the Crescent Moon Blade? I was completely dumbfounded. To be honest, when I first mastered Offensive Sword Qi, I was deeply shaken by its terrifying destructive power. In the real world of the Phama continent, the damage caused by Offensive Sword Qi far surpassed my expectations, seeming utterly different from the close-range, maximum-damage single strike set in Legend. Offensive Sword Qi attacked along a straight line within ten meters; any monster struck was guaranteed to be penetrated or bisected. It was a terrifying mid-to-long range killing move.

And the power of Stabbing Sword Qi was even more astounding, perhaps ten times the destructive power of Offensive Sword Qi, with an attack range reaching an astonishing twenty meters. Frankly, this was quite different from the situation in Legend; the Warrior’s Stabbing skill was ridiculously overpowered.

But both Offensive Sword Qi and Stabbing Sword Qi relied primarily on the instantaneous burst of Battle Qi—like a gunpowder explosion—making them intermittent attacks used for brief bursts. The Crescent Moon Blade, however, felt entirely different. It was as if the Battle Qi in my body and the Hundred Battles Saber had fused into a single, organic whole. The energy no longer manifested through explosive bursts but through highly concentrated energy waves that defined its attack style. The entire sword was enveloped in thick, persistent Battle Qi energy, yet the consumption of my internal energy was negligible, almost non-existent.

If Stabbing Sword Qi delivered its greatest blow through an instantaneous destruction akin to a volcanic eruption, then the Crescent Moon Blade was like a vast, endless ocean, relying on the bearably thick Battle Qi to launch relentless, powerful assaults against the opponent.

For group combat, however, the Crescent Moon Blade was clearly more practical than Stabbing Sword Qi. Perhaps the thick, gentle nature of the Crescent Moon Blade meant that while my Battle Qi reached a state of saturation, no violent upheaval occurred, and the strange murderous urge I had feared did not manifest, which brought me considerable peace of mind. At least now, when using the Crescent Moon Blade, I wouldn't need to constantly monitor the Battle Qi intensity for fear of losing control.

From this moment on, I had reached the zenith of a high-level warrior—the so-called Crescent Moon Warrior. The next rank beyond the Crescent Moon Warrior was the Red Moon Warrior, though most Rangers preferred to call that tier the Blazing Fire Warrior, as their signature skill was the Blazing Fire Sword Technique.

Six months to master the Crescent Moon Blade; how long would it take me to master the Blazing Fire Sword Technique? In just a few minutes, I recovered from the joy of achieving Crescent Moon Warrior status and began contemplating my next plan. It seemed necessary to make a trip into Terror Space or Evil Forces next. Rumor held that those locations were the most suitable training grounds for mastering the Blazing Fire Sword Technique.