Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

The rainy season has arrived as scheduled in the northern district.

The gray sky hung low, and damp air, carrying the smell of coal ash, seeped into every alleyway.

The waterfall behind the mansion had swelled due to days of torrential rain, roaring and splashing white foam like shattered jade.

Xilun sat cross-legged on the bluestone platform below the waterfall, letting the icy water pound on his shoulders.

He was shirtless, and the old bruises on his back had faded, replaced by a thin, almost transparent layer of frost.

The frost rose and fell with his breath, sometimes gathering and sometimes dispersing, as if it were alive.

He has cultivated the Xuan Yin Breathing Technique to the intermediate level of an expert.

The chill within my body was nearly twice as intense as it had been half a month ago, like an ice python lurking deep within my marrow, its slight undulations felt with every breath.

However, the amount of Yin Spirit Water required to continue advancing is also increasing exponentially.

Xilun opened his eyes and exhaled a puff of white mist.

He took out a glass bottle about the size of a thumb from the oilcloth wrapping next to the stone platform. The bottle contained a half-finger-deep dark blue liquid, Yin Spirit Source Water.

This was the last of his savings from the Tusol family, enough for seven days' worth of expenses.

Bring the bottle to your lips, and the cool liquid slides down your throat, like swallowing a tiny icy stream.

Xilun closed his eyes, guiding the extremely cold spiritual liquid along his meridians into his dantian, and then distributing it to his limbs and bones.

The mantra of the Profound Yin Breathing Technique flowed silently through his mind. The cold breath was purified and compressed layer by layer, eventually condensing into a thin, silvery-white cold thread, finer than a strand of hair, which penetrated into the bone crevices.

pain.

It wasn't physical pain, but a tingling, numb sensation as if ice needles were scraping away at the very depths of my bone marrow.

Xilun's expression remained unchanged, but he clenched his fists on his knees.

He had grown accustomed to this pain. The day after returning from Lund Manor, he began this almost self-destructive seclusion.

Every morning, he practices breathing exercises under the waterfall for two hours, then practices shooting three hundred times in the afternoon. In the evening, he uses the Moon Memory Meditation Method to suppress the pollution and noise deep within his mind. At night, he tries to combine the Great Thunder Sound and the Profound Yin Qi.

Day after day, without interruption.

"..."

After another half incense stick's time, Xilun felt the flow of cold energy within his body suddenly accelerate for a moment, before returning to normal.

The progress has been pushed forward another step.

He stood up, water cascading down his shoulders, washing away the frost on the stone platform.

Xilun moved his wrist, and the quiet, dormant black mark on the inside of his right wrist was faintly visible under the reflection of the water droplets.

Since returning from the Seventh Wharf, this thing has remained quietly there, neither spreading nor shrinking, like a snake that has closed its eyes and is pretending to sleep.

Xilun ignored it.

He took a dry cloth from the oilcloth, wiped his upper body dry, put on a coarse cotton training shirt, picked up the forty-pound iron spear leaning against the stone wall, and walked towards the training ground.

The training ground was a flat area on the hill behind the mansion. As requested by Xilun, Kusuo had driven thick wooden stakes, about the size of a bowl, all around it. The soil on the ground had been repeatedly trampled and hardened to the point of being like a slab of stone.

Xilun stood in the center of the field, gun in hand, and took a deep breath.

When the Great Thunder Breathing Method is activated, it feels like muffled thunder rumbling in the chest cavity, and blood and qi surge to the limbs, causing the muscles to swell slightly.

prick!

The iron spear pierced the air, its tip drawing a silver line through the rain. A line of intent originated from the spine, passed through the shoulder, arm, and wrist, entered the spear shaft, and reached its tip.

hum!

The gun emitted a muffled thud, and the blast wave tore a fist-sized hole in the rain curtain in front of the gun tip.

Master level!

Natan's heavy gun skills have reached a solid level. After returning from Lund Manor, through repeated practice of three hundred shots a day, his mental penetration rate has increased from the initial 60% to 92%.

Just that last little bit more, and every shot will penetrate without hindrance.

But Celion's ambitions don't stop there.

He sheathed his gun and switched his breathing rhythm from the Great Thunder Sound to the Profound Yin Breathing Method.

The body temperature plummeted, and a thin layer of ice began to condense on the iron spear.

Xilun raised his left palm, his five fingers together, and a sky-blue chill slowly emanated from his palm, like an ice flower in bloom.

Mysterious Yin Condenses the Meridians!

He struck out with his palm, and a thin stream of water, no thicker than a finger, flowing down from the waterfall an arm's length away, instantly froze the moment his palm struck it.

The ice crystals spread from the point of contact to both ends at a speed that was almost too fast for the naked eye to follow.

In the time it takes to breathe, the stream of water transformed into a three-foot-long icicle, completely transparent and as sharp as a glass spear.

A few unfrozen water droplets still clung to the tip of the icicle, reflecting a cold light in the hazy sky.

Xilun looked at the ice spike and raised an eyebrow slightly.

Half a month ago, he could freeze a water column at most the thickness of a little finger, but now he can freeze a whole stream of water in an instant.

The progress of the Xuan Yin Breathing Technique is indeed steadily increasing, but there is still a long way to go before truly achieving "Great Completion of Meridian Condensation".

As for the Yinlingyuan Water... there's only enough for seven days left.

"master."

Rod walked hurriedly along the path behind the mountain, holding a black umbrella, clearly having something on his mind.

"Speak." Xilun withdrew his palm, and the chill dissipated.

"Kusuo returned from the south warehouse and said he performed the routine incense fumigation on those patients this morning, and their conditions are basically stable, except for one old man who started talking nonsense again after nightfall. Also,"

Rhodes paused for a moment, then took a letter from his pocket.

"It was sent by the Tusol family, specifically addressed to you, saying it was a letter from Mr. Black Star."

Xilun took the envelope and tore it open with one hand.

The handwriting on the letter was hasty and hurried, unlike his usual composed demeanor.

"There has been a change within the clan. Two third-tier elders will depart for the Crimson Training Association tomorrow to formally negotiate the matter of the missing clansmen."

The chieftain has instructed you to remain on standby for the next few days and to provide immediate updates on any progress. Also, Oin has been unusually quiet lately; be careful.

Xilun folded the letter and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Anything else?"

"Yes." Rhodes lowered his voice. "Miss Rena asked me to tell you that the largest of the three new smuggling gangs seems to have dealings with arms dealers in the west of the city. Her men followed them for two days and discovered that their cargo ships would dock late at night, and the unloading location was right next to our branch warehouse."

"Have her keep an eye on things, but don't alert them." Xilun slung the iron spear over his shoulder and walked towards the mansion. "We'll talk about it after I finish my seclusion."

"Yes."

Rod followed behind, holding an umbrella, seemingly wanting to say something but then stopping himself.

"What?"

"Master, how many more days will the Yin Spirit Water last?"

"Seven days."

Rod paused for a moment, then said, "If Tusol asks you for help, should we mention the supply issue as well?"

Xilun didn't turn around, his tone indifferent: "No rush."

He went through the back door and leaned his iron spear against the wall. The corridor was filled with the faint, bitter scent of incense, which Rhodes burned regularly throughout the mansion.

Since the Black Dove Church incident, this has become an unshakeable rule.

Xilun went upstairs to his study, changed into dry clothes, and sat down at his desk.

On the table were several documents that had accumulated over the past two days—the income and expenditure accounts of the fraternity branch, reports on the handling of several minor disputes, and a brief greeting from Sarah in the South District.

He didn't rush to look at these, but instead took out a handwritten copy from the drawer, which was already worn and curled at the edges.

Prayer for the Sacred Bud.

This life technique is his most unique and most feared trump card among all forces.

Xilen turned to a page in the middle, which had many of his own annotations marked in pencil.

Records regarding the condensation speed of white buds, the proportion of mental energy consumed, and the purification efficiency under different concentrations of pollution.

After returning from the Seventh Wharf, he suppressed the black lines on Lund's left arm and performed several cleansing presses on patients in the South Warehouse. His mastery of this technique had become much more proficient than before.

However, the feeling of mental exhaustion after each use is still intense, and the recovery time is also long.

If you encounter even more severe pollution...

Xilun put down the manuscript and his gaze fell on the black mark on his right wrist.

Those were the marks left by the remnants of a divine being; prayers to the sacred bud were completely ineffective against them.

This shows that in the face of true "divinity," his current purifying abilities are merely a drop in the ocean.

But it's more than enough to deal with ordinary active contaminants.

This is precisely why the Tusol family values ​​him.

Xilun closed the manuscript, got up and walked to the window.

The rain was still falling, and the gray sky hung low. In the distance, the rooftops of the northern district stood in rows, and the white smoke rising from the chimneys was dispersed by the rain, resembling a thin mist.

He recalled the words in Black Star's letter—that two third-tier elders had gone to negotiate with the Crimson Training Institute.

The Tusor family has been entrenched in the Northern Continent for hundreds of years, possessing a profound foundation and having at least three or four Tier 3 Extraordinary individuals.

Sending two people to negotiate may seem like a grand gesture, but it also suggests that the disappearance is more serious than he imagined.

And the Scarlet Retreat Society...

Xilun narrowed his eyes slightly.

That organization's style of doing things has never been something that can be resolved with the word "negotiation".

He looked away, sat back down at his desk, picked up his pen, and began to write a letter.

A letter was sent to Rena, requesting her to increase manpower to monitor the Scarlet Training Society's known strongholds in the North District, and to report any unusual activity immediately.

He sent a letter to Kusuo, instructing him to come to the training ground every morning starting tomorrow to spar with him, using wooden shields to strike each other. The progress of the Bone Forging Iron Armor could not be neglected.

After finishing writing the two letters, Xilun put down his pen and closed his eyes.

The Moon Recollection Meditation Method quietly began to operate.

In the realm of the mind, the nearly full moon-like silvery-white circle floats silently, radiating a soft light.

Under the light, a white sprout the size of a thumb grows quietly, its leaves as white as jade, its whole body pure.

Pray for the sacred bud.

In his spiritual world, Xilun gazed at the white sprout, feeling the delicate yet resilient connection between it and his own spiritual power.

Seven days later, the Yin Spirit Source Water will be exhausted, and the practice of the Profound Yin Breathing Technique will come to a standstill.

At that point, we'll either have to bow down to the Tusol family and demand resources, or...

Wait for them to come begging to you.

Xilun opened his eyes, a slight smile playing on his lips.

He had a feeling it wouldn't be long.

In the days that followed, Xilun strictly followed the training plan.

The Xuan Yin breathing exercises under the waterfall at dawn, the three hundred spears in the training ground at noon, the wooden shield that Kusuo carried and rammed into his torso at dusk, and the meditation and concentration exercises at night.

The Yinlingyuan water is decreasing day by day.

On the third day, when Xilun was practicing shooting at the training ground, he thrust out a shot, and the shockwave from the tip of the gun shaved off a layer of the bark from a wooden stake three steps away.

Natan's mental penetration rate in heavy gunnery exceeded 95%.

On the fifth day, he attempted to infuse a trace of icy Yin energy into the thrust. A wisp of white mist emerged from the tip of the iron spear, and after it pierced the wooden stake, a thin layer of frost instantly formed on the stump's surface.

This discovery gave Xiren a glimmer of hope.

If the chilling breath can be stably attached to the tip of the spear, combined with the penetrating power of the Natan Heavy Armor Spear Technique, its power will far exceed that of simple physical penetration.

He tried more than ten times, with a success rate of about 30%. It wasn't stable enough, but the direction was right.

Seventh day.

The last drop of Yin Spirit Water was swallowed by Xilun.

He sat cross-legged under the waterfall, guiding the last wisp of extremely cold spiritual liquid deep into his bone marrow, pushing the progress of the Profound Yin Breathing Technique forward by an almost imperceptible thread.

Then, it stopped.

Without the nourishment of Yin Spirit Water, the cold energy within the body, while not dissipating, cannot continue to condense.

It's like a river whose water source has been cut off; although there is still water in the riverbed, it can no longer rise.

Siren stood up and stretched his limbs under the waterfall.

No problem.

Although his current Xuan Yin Breathing Technique is far from perfected, combined with the Great Thunder Sound Breathing Technique and the Bone Forging Iron Armor, his overall strength has already reached a new level compared to half a month ago.

Dealing with ordinary second-tier extraordinary individuals is a piece of cake.

What really concerned him was the progress of gathering the Crimson Star Spear.

This compressed burst shooting technique, created by Lund himself, is easy to learn but difficult to master.

Xilun can compress nearly 30% of his aura to the tip of his spear, but to go further, he needs not only skill, but also ultimate control over his own aura.

This kind of control can only be honed through repeated practice day after day.

It can't be rushed.

Xilun packed up the oilcloth bundle, picked up his iron spear, and walked down the mountain.

When they returned to the mansion, Rod had already prepared hot water and breakfast.

After showering and changing, Xilun sat down in the restaurant, drinking hot soup while flipping through the daily briefing compiled by Rod.

The situation in the North remains tense. War-induced price hikes continue, increasing the Brotherhood's operating costs by nearly 20%.

The three new smuggling gangs became increasingly arrogant and had begun openly selling contraband near the docks.

As for the Tusol family...

"There's still no new news," Rod said in a low voice. "No one has come looking for you, sir, since Mr. Black Star's letter."

Xilun nodded and put down the briefing.

Silence means that things are still in progress.

The two third-tier officials will go to negotiate; either they'll reach an agreement, or the negotiations will fall apart. Either way, it won't drag on for too long.

"Keep waiting." Xiren wiped his mouth, stood up, and said, "I'm going to practice my shooting."

Three more days passed.

That evening, Xiren had just finished a round of spear training when Kuso walked over from the other end of the training ground carrying a split wooden shield, his face somewhat pale.

"Master, you're stronger than ever today." Kuso rubbed his arms, which were numb from the impact, and said with a wry smile, "I just replaced this shield with new wood two days ago."

Xilun holstered his gun, his gaze sweeping over the crack running from top to bottom on the wooden shield, and said calmly, "Replace it with iron tomorrow."

Kusso opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing, only nodding.

Just as the two were walking back, they heard hurried footsteps coming from the path behind the mountain.

It's Rena.

She started running, a rare occurrence for her. Her short hair was wet from the rain and stuck to her forehead, and her breathing was slightly rapid.

Something's happened.

Xilun stopped and turned to look at her.

Rena approached and lowered her voice: "The two third-tier elders sent by the Tusol family to the Crimson Training Institute have been ambushed."

Xilun's eyebrows twitched slightly.

"Source of the information?"

"A message just arrived from Black Star on horseback." Rena's expression was grave. "They said they hadn't returned for three days and were only sent back to the main residence in Tusol this afternoon. One of them... is infected with active contamination, and the infection has spread severely."

Active contamination?