Li Muzhan observed closely; the giant crocodile was entirely submerged in the inky water, its size impossible to gauge, yet its eyes alone indicated its colossal scale.

It regarded Li Muzhan in silence, its cold eyes devoid of any emotion. Li Muzhan narrowed his own eyes, meeting its gaze.

It seemed utterly motionless, yet imperceptibly it drifted toward Li Muzhan, drawing nearer and nearer, until suddenly it launched itself from the water, jaws wide, teeth like four rows of inverted daggers flashing a chilling light.

Li Muzhan had a moment to take in its form: nearly three meters long, its steel-hard scales glossy and gleaming, even blacker than the ink beneath.

Before it, Li Muzhan seemed fragile, as if a single slap could crush him.

With a weightless leap, Li Muzhan evaded the attack. Bang! The stone wall seemed to shudder, as if the entire mountain had shifted, sending a tremor of fear through him.

Li Muzhan frowned. The impact had gouged a foot-deep pit in the rock face; that single strike carried nearly a thousand catties of force. This giant crocodile’s power was astonishing; he truly couldn't afford complacency, lest he suffer an unexpected downfall.

He perched himself on the stone wall. Below lay the pitch-black lake, and the wall rose sheer and vertical—maintaining a stable hold required gecko-like grip, something difficult to sustain for long without sufficient cultivation.

The crocodile smashed into the water, sending spray everywhere. Li Muzhan shifted lightly again, avoiding the splash. His body refinement had reached its zenith, but lacking true Gang Qi protection, he dared not let the toxic water touch him.

The crocodile lunged again, and Li Muzhan dodged once more. He was two stories above the lake surface, yet surprisingly, the creature leaped just as high; had he not moved, he would certainly have been bitten.

The beast roared in fury, provoked by Li Muzhan, and immediately sprang again upon landing in the water.

Li Muzhan shook his head in resignation, leaping onto the creature’s head. With a feather-light touch, he pressed a palm onto its brow—Thump!—a dull sound like a war drum sounding.

Li Muzhan instantly looked toward it in surprise. Struck by his palm, the beast had merely staggered, shaking its massive head before instantly recovering.

It roared and charged at Li Muzhan, who simply hopped away, landing on its head, then gliding to the center of the small pavilion, opposite Feng Batian.

The giant crocodile roared behind him, utterly helpless; it dared not approach the islet, circling it instead, glaring malevolently at Li Muzhan.

Li Muzhan stood before Feng Batian, scrutinizing the lifelike figure. His features were handsome, appearing about forty years old; in his youth, he must have been a great beauty, attracting countless women.

Feng Batian’s eyelids were slightly lowered, obscuring his gaze. Though life had departed, a distinct aura persisted, enveloping the pavilion. Standing within this space, one felt their own insignificance, naturally inspiring a sense of reverence toward him.

Li Muzhan inwardly marveled; Feng Batian’s martial attainment was truly extraordinary. This world lacked Buddhism, with little exploration into spiritual power. For Feng Batian to cultivate such an imposing presence must stem solely from his martial arts.

Refining Essence to Qi, refining Qi to Spirit—the stronger one's internal energy, the more their spirit ascends. By meeting his aura, one could glimpse the depth of his internal force.

What a pity Feng Batian was dead, preventing him from witnessing such supreme martial prowess… Before Feng Batian lay a yellowed scroll. Li Muzhan picked it up and slowly unrolled it; it contained diagrams and text, clearly a secret manual.

Li Muzhan examined it carefully: it was a set of palm techniques—the Heaven-Seizing Palm (Duotian Zhang). It was profoundly mysterious. He compared it with the palm techniques he had previously studied, and all fell short.

However, Li Muzhan currently held little interest in palm arts; his swordsmanship was sufficient. His mastery of the sword was growing deeper, far surpassing that of his contemporaries.

Furthermore, in this world, swordsmanship held an inherent advantage; even the fiercest palms would retreat three paces upon encountering a blade, unable to meet it head-on.

Now wielding a treasured sword, coupled with an exceedingly profound sword technique, any formidable palm art could be countered; further practice held little necessity.

Yet, for those who disliked the Way of the Sword and preferred the Way of the Palm, this Heaven-Seizing Palm was truly an unparalleled masterpiece, superior to the martial arts of the Dragon Mountain Sect.

He considered for a moment, tucking it into his robes, intending to give it to Liu Biyun, and then making a copy for Yi Xiaoru; it would be best for the two women to practice it for self-defense.

The most exquisite part of this palm art was its inner cultivation method—the Heaven-Seizing Scripture (Duotian Jing). This allowed for rapid advancement, possessing a unique method to quickly boost internal energy.

No wonder Feng Batian had carved out such a reputation; the Heaven-Seizing Scripture was truly heaven-defying, capable of stealing others' internal energy for one’s own use, achieving gains without effort.

But such cultivation methods usually carried hidden pitfalls: mixed and impure internal energy, leading to rapid early progress but stagnation later on. However, the profound secret of the Heaven-Seizing Scripture lay in its countermeasure: the mental method directly purified the internal energy, eliminating later complications, though it required significant time.

Such a cultivation method was indeed unfathomably marvelous, capable of forging top-tier masters. Even if the two women couldn't master it entirely, borrowing from its insights would be immensely beneficial.

Li Muzhan shook his head in admiration. The people of this world truly could not be underestimated; their martial cultivation methods pioneered unique paths, completely divergent from his own train of thought. He felt he had gained much and decided to integrate its principles into his current cultivation method.

After carefully securing the scroll, he glanced around. The pavilion was empty, save for a wooden chest nearby.

Li Muzhan did not attach much importance to it, assuming it contained gold or treasures. Still, having come this far, he couldn't leave abruptly; he had to look.

He casually reached out, brushed the chest, and opened it. Inside lay several silk-bound booklets, yellowed with age, though fortunately not decayed, still remarkably resilient.

The booklets were thick, comparable to a modern dictionary. He picked one up and flipped it open; it was not a martial arts manual, but rather a collection of travelogues, detailing every place he had ever visited, along with meticulous records of the events that transpired there and the local customs and temperaments.

Li Muzhan’s spirits immediately lifted, a smile appearing. This set of travelogues was more precious to him than any secret manual. He suddenly felt a flicker of hope: Feng Batian was renowned for his high martial arts; these thick volumes suggested he had traveled extensively.

His knowledge must far surpass that of ordinary people. Perhaps he knew of the connection points between realms, which could help him find the path back to his original world.

He frowned, hearing a distant booming sound; someone else must be making trouble, likely unwilling to give up the hope of finding the hidden treasure.

He considered that this was no place for quiet study and decided to leave.

He closed the wooden chest, lifted it with ease, bowed toward Feng Batian, and then vanished in a flash, reappearing directly in the woods outside the tomb.

The giant crocodile, seeing him disappear so suddenly, became enraged, slamming against the stone walls with loud bangs.

Li Muzhan executed a few blinks of movement, changed his clothes, and returned directly to the Hidden Sect; he avoided the Dragon Mountain Sect for fear of Yan Ziyuan’s schemes—it was best to be prepared for anything.

Yi Xiaoru was taking an afternoon rest, lying on a couch, her jade-like face flushed, beautiful as a flower.

Seeing him suddenly appear, Yi Xiaoru languidly looked over: "Big Brother, where have you been this time?"

Li Muzhan smiled: "I encountered something good! ... Look at this!"

He pulled the scroll from his robes and handed it to Yi Xiaoru. She accepted it and slowly opened it, glancing a few times before slowly sitting up.

"How is it?" Li Muzhan asked with a smile.

"This is...?" Yi Xiaoru looked at him with surprise.

Li Muzhan asked: "Have you ever heard of Feng Batian's hidden treasure?"

"It’s been heavily rumored recently; I expect it’s another farce!" Yi Xiaoru nodded.

Li Muzhan smiled: "This is Feng Batian's hidden treasure."

Yi Xiaoru’s bright eyes widened: "You actually obtained it?"

Li Muzhan laughed: "Luck was good, but 'hidden treasure' is an overstatement; it’s only this secret manual, nothing else."

"Then what about these...?" Yi Xiaoru pointed toward the wooden chest.

Li Muzhan replied: "Some idle reading, not martial arts manuals."

"Having this manual is already extraordinary!" Yi Xiaoru pointed at the yellowed scroll. (To be continued) RQ