With a handy weapon secured, Feng Zikang naturally turned his attention to mastering the Divine Ability of Object Manipulation, recognizing it as the best transportation solution for the Qi Condensation stage; after all, he wouldn't have to rely solely on his own two legs to travel anywhere anymore.

Feng Zikang laid the Soul Bone Sword horizontally across his knees, quietly circulating the Hundred Arms Control Art mental technique. The martial arts killing intent within his body stirred restlessly, eager to form a spiritual connection with this arcane weapon.

The Soul Bone Sword was entirely pieced together from white bone segments, its blade segmented like a vertebrae, twisting and curving, yet its two edges were exceptionally keen. It exuded a chilling, imposing aura, tinged with a strangely magnificent elegance.

A rattling sound emanated from the Soul Bone Sword as it vibrated incessantly, and a dense black miasma seeped out from within the blade.

"Success!"

With a beckoning gesture, Feng Zikang summoned the sword, which flew up with a sharp swoosh. The black miasma gathered but did not disperse, dancing along with the blade. He tapped his fingers lightly, and the Soul Bone Sword responded by circling in the air. Though still somewhat clumsy, it was undeniably moving according to his will.

"Disperse!"

Feng Zikang beamed with delight. Stepping outside his door, he called out, and the sword immediately clattered, dissolving into a scattering of white bone fragments. Though it maintained the general shape of a sword, the pieces were connected only by the linking black miasma, creating a bizarre silhouette.

"Heh!"

Feng Zikang leaped upward. After a brief wobble, he found his footing upon the dispersed, sword-shaped construct, floating weightlessly in mid-air.

When he was the Formless Heavenly Demon, suspension and flight were commonplace, but this sensation of controlling his own flight was vastly different.

Standing firm in the wind, swaying with its currents, circling as he pleased—listening to the wind roar past his ears, free flight was truly one of life's greatest joys. Feng Zikang indulged himself, maneuvering in the air for quite some time until his technique transitioned from hesitant to proficient. The only regret was that the level of his Hundred Arms Control Art Divine Ability was still too low; the Soul Bone Sword could not achieve breakneck speeds. Only when his divine abilities deepened in future cultivation could he traverse the world in a single day—that would be the ultimate human pleasure.

The Soul Bone Sword had been taken from the Ghost God General. If the disciples of Sunset Peak saw it, it would inevitably cause trouble. Originally, Feng Zikang needed to devise a way to conceal it, but fortunately, the illusionary art inherent to the Spirit Shaman Bone was already proving useful.

Feng Zikang stood suspended in the air, lightly tapping the Spirit Shaman Bone on his waist. The illusionary divine ability quietly activated.

The ground beneath him, which had been a mass of oppressive black miasma, suddenly transformed into a pool of emerald green. From a distance, the main body of the sword appeared to be a soft, willow-green wooden sword, radiating a faint vitality. The surroundings were vibrant, evoking a refreshing and pleasing sensation.

Even Feng Zikang himself, standing upon it, couldn't pierce the illusion for a moment. He clicked his tongue in wonder; the various divine abilities in this world truly possessed effects beyond imagination.

For an instant, he entertained the thought of mastering all the endless divine abilities, but it was merely a passing thought. Even the supposed Buddhas, who know all the world's laws (Dharma), could not truly master every single technique; it was merely a metaphor.

But just contemplating it felt immeasurably vast, leaving his heart utterly clear and empty.

Looking out over the vast, desolate mountain ranges, under the boundless blue sky, it felt as if all living beings lay beneath his feet.

Feng Zikang let out a long, joyous roar, filled with limitless happiness.

Two months later, inside the humble cottage in the small bamboo grove.

The bright moon hung high in the sky.

"Is... is there any more Condensing Kill Dew?"

Huo Zhongguang stared longingly at the empty jade urn, as if suffering from withdrawal.

"There isn't any more... My master only buried these few urns!"

Feng Zikang shook his head; indeed, there were none left for the moment. He had secretly hunted a few Sunset Peak disciples, and now that the entire Dragon-Tiger Mountain range had tightened its security, he had no opportunity to strike again.

Besides, although he was a demon, he wasn't accustomed to harming innocent passersby. If those Sunset Peak disciples hadn't provoked him, he wouldn't have taken their lives.

Of course, the most crucial reason was that Huo Zhongguang's cultivation was now sufficient!

Under Feng Zikang's ceaseless supply of vital essence, Huo Zhongguang had broken through consecutively within three months, climbing from the eighth layer of Qi Condensation straight to the peak perfection of the tenth layer!

"What a shame... What a shame. If only I had one more urn, I could definitely establish my Foundation Establishment. I definitely could..."

Feng Zikang shook his head.

"Even if you meet the standard for Foundation Establishment, Senior Brother, you won't have time to complete the merit requirements for advancement. The impact on your strength won't be that significant!"

"That's true... that's true..."

Huo Zhongguang muttered to himself. He knew Feng Zikang spoke correctly. It wasn't enough for power to simply reach the point of flowing naturally to achieve Foundation Establishment. He still needed to petition the Merit Hall for the Great Cycle Disk to bestow the advancement merit. Only after completing that could his Dao foundation truly solidify. With the year-end competition only days away, no matter the merit requirement, he simply wouldn't have time to finish it unless he forfeited the competition.

"Liang Si'an's Dao foundation is already set, and he has countless arcane artifacts and spiritual herbs on hand. Uncle Lu has also taught him many potent Dao techniques. Although my cultivation isn't far behind his, I fear..."

"My master did pass down a Dao technique that can increase one's strength severalfold in a short period, but..."

A troubled expression crossed Feng Zikang's face, leaving his words hanging in the air.

"Several times the strength?"

Huo Zhongguang was overjoyed. "If I had several times the strength, even if only temporarily, I could certainly defeat Liang Si'an! Good brother, tell me quickly!"

The divine ability Feng Zikang mentioned, capable of instantly boosting strength severalfold, was naturally not passed down by Ye Tiansheng.

He had considered using it desperately when facing the Ghost God General, though the version he intended to teach Huo Zhongguang differed slightly from what he himself wielded.

His divine ability was called "Heavenly Demon Self-Sacrifice."

It involved self-detonating the demon seed to gain several tens or even hundreds of times one's power for a short duration, making one unstoppable, capable of slaying Buddhas. However, upon use, the demon seed vanished completely, impossible to reform, and the physical body would suffer immense damage—it was practically a path to certain death.

Ordinary cultivators, lacking a demon seed, naturally couldn't execute this explosive technique, but they could substitute their own vital blood. Sacrificing vital blood to damage one's body could similarly achieve a temporary boost in strength. While the power wouldn't be as incomparably fierce as the Heavenly Demon Self-Sacrifice, the consequences wouldn't be as severe; at worst, the user would suffer a debilitating illness afterward.

This divine ability actually circulated in the world under the name "Heavenly Demon Body-Shattering Great Art," but modern demonic cultivators had long since declined, and this method had been handed down incompletely, making its effects predictable and lackluster.

What Feng Zikang was preparing to pass to Huo Zhongguang was, of course, the genuine, direct transmission.

"This isn't a martial technique; it's a formidable Confucian art my master learned one hundred years ago while traveling and studying at White Deer Academy..."

"If one understands the Way in the morning, to die in the evening is no regret!"

Feng Zikang was talking nonsense. Ye Tiansheng traveled extensively; perhaps he really had visited White Deer Academy. As for whether he learned this peculiar divine ability, that was pure fabrication on Feng Zikang's part. His master wouldn't jump out to confront him anyway; as long as he could successfully deceive Huo Zhongguang, that was all that mattered.

As expected, Huo Zhongguang's eyes lit up with overwhelming joy.

"Uncle Ye knows this technique? That's incredible!"