Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 653 Blood Hell Sword Technique

Five hundred feet below the sea, the undercurrents, like invisible giant pythons, swam wildly along the rock walls.

Each impact felt like a heavy iron hammer slamming into Xilun's chest.

He sat cross-legged on a dark rock, his hands forming a mudra, and his internal energy slowly spread out with the circulation of the Overturning Sea Technique.

That force no longer surged as before, but under the pressure of the terrifying sea, it gradually became solid and heavy, like a deep sea being compressed.

"Sink down—"

Swain's voice came through the seawater, sounding low and muffled.

"Don't fight the water pressure; let it enter your body and become a hammer to hone your strength."

Xilun did not answer.

At this moment, he even had great difficulty speaking.

The seawater at a depth of 500 feet was chillingly cold, and the deathly aura was so thick that it was almost impossible to dissipate.

With each breath, it felt like my lungs were filled with molten lead, and my chest felt so heavy it was about to be crushed.

There was no light around, and all that Thunder Eye could see was deep darkness. Occasionally, some enormous creatures would swim by in the distance, their bodies brushing against the dark currents and bringing with them a chilling roar.

He remained motionless.

The Fuhai Gong is slowly activated, with energy flowing from the dantian to the limbs and bones, and then returning to the dantian through the meridians, in a repeated cycle.

Under the grinding pressure of the sea, the strength that had already been tempered to seventy percent gradually began to change.

Those forces are like refined iron that has been hammered a million times, with impurities constantly falling off the surface, while the inside becomes purer and purer.

With each completed cycle, Xilun could feel his strength increase by one unit.

At the same time, the Thunder Dragon Heart in his right arm throbbed powerfully, and faint blue lightning spread along his blood vessels, repairing his damaged internal organs.

The Golden Tortoise Cicada's molting talent is also coming into play.

The skin that had just been torn open by the water pressure quickly healed; the cracks that appeared on the ribs were enveloped by a layer of warm, moist force and slowly closed.

Even more bizarrely, Xilun is still circulating the Breath of the Styx.

The deathly aura of the deep sea was inhaled into his body with his breath, and after being transformed by his cultivation technique, it turned into wisps of cold, sinister power that sank into the edge of his dantian.

These deathly energies cannot directly enhance his strength, but they can temporarily seal the wounds and delay collapse when his internal organs are severely damaged.

The Moon Memory Meditation Law, like a silver moon, floats in his spiritual world.

Whenever my spirit is about to be torn apart by pain, the silver moonlight will gently fall, flattening all the noisy sounds and chaotic thoughts.

Practice, heal, recover, and practice again.

Several forces formed an extremely dangerous yet strangely stable balance within Xilun's body.

Swain stood not far away, his gaze never leaving Siren.

He initially thought that Xilun's ability to endure for six hours was a mere feat achieved through the use of various talents. However, as time went on, he gradually realized that he was wrong.

Xilun was not passively enduring it.

He is learning how to adapt his body to the deep sea.

Initially, every breath Xilun took was difficult, and his energy was constantly being disrupted by the undercurrents.

But by the fifth day, he was able to adjust his breathing rhythm by taking advantage of the gaps in the undercurrent.

By the seventh day, he was even able to gather his internal organs in advance before the undercurrents were about to crash in, allowing his body to withstand the impact at the lowest possible cost.

This speed of adaptation is hardly what one would expect from a third-tier extraordinary individual who has just come into contact with the Ancient Abyss Technique.

"That kid—"

Swain frowned and muttered to himself.

He suddenly realized that what was truly terrifying about Xilun was not just his talent, but his almost ruthless ability to learn.

Each injury made him more familiar with danger.

Each near-death experience gave him a greater sense of control over his own power.

As long as this kind of person doesn't die, he will eventually become a monster that will give all his enemies a headache.

On the tenth day, Xilun opened his eyes.

Two golden flashes of lightning disappeared in the sea.

He raised his hand, and a ball of deep blue energy slowly condensed in his palm.

That force didn't dissipate in the slightest; it was as heavy as a block of seawater compressed to its limit. With a gentle grasp, the surrounding undercurrents were forcibly pushed aside.

Upon seeing this, Swain's eyes flickered slightly.

"Has the power solidified?"

"Still a little short," Xiren shook his head, "but much better than before."

"You are already stronger than most third-tier extraordinary beings," Swain said in a deep voice. "There's no need to push yourself so hard."

"It is necessary."

"That's what Xilun said calmly."

"Within six months, I will perfect the Overturning Sea Technique; eight months later, I will defeat Tuoyuan; and one year later, I will defeat Celt."

Swain was silent for a moment, then said, "You see them as stepping stones you have to climb over?"

"It's not a stone step."

Xilun gazed at the endless darkness before him, his voice completely calm.

"They are enemies I must eliminate beforehand."

Deep within the right arm, the thirty-six blood locks still quietly coiled around the evil god's remains.

But Xilun knew that the peace was only temporary.

Those dark red eyes had already memorized his scent.

ten years.

The deadline left by the Lord of Storms is like a sword hanging over our heads, ready to fall at any moment.

He doesn't have ten years to prepare slowly.

They are not qualified to stay in the third-order realm for too long.

News of Xilun's arduous training in the Sea of ​​the Dead quickly spread throughout the Inner Court.

Especially after the announcement of the preparatory core disciple assessment, almost everyone was talking about the challenge that would take place a year later.

"Have you heard? Xilun's third test is to challenge the Celts a year from now."

"The fourth in the inner courtyard, that Celtic one?"

"Who else could it be but him? I heard that Celt's strength has been tempered to ninety percent, and he has also cultivated an extremely strange mental technique. Let alone a year, even if Xilun had three years, he might not be able to win."

"Didn't Xilun just reach the peak of the third-tier physique? I admit he defeated Tinos in the Blackwater Abyss, but there was an environmental advantage there. Celt isn't Tinos; how could he just stand there and let him gain the upper hand?"

"I think Xilun might still have a chance; he's progressing too fast."

"What's the use of being fast? Everyone here is a genius. If it were possible to catch up in a year, wouldn't the Celtics have wasted all these years of training?"

Amidst the various opinions, Celtic's name was repeatedly mentioned.

Some say he once applied for the core disciple assessment, which required him to reach the third-level extreme realm before the age of twenty-five.

According to the calculation method of the Holy Light Monastery, one is considered to be twenty-five years old even if one achieves a breakthrough in November of the age of twenty-five.

Even so, Celtic has not yet reached the third-tier extreme realm.

He seems to be stuck at some kind of bottleneck.

However, in the eyes of many, this does not mean that the Celtics' future is bleak.

His family runs a vast trading company and controls countless potions, secret treasures, and cultivation resources.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, reaching the fourth tier in the future should not be difficult.

On the contrary, Xilun, who came from an ordinary background and had reportedly been cultivating for less than six years, was able to complete an almost impossible challenge within a year.

Many even believe that this was a trap deliberately set for Siron by the elders.

Xilun didn't care about this.

After returning to the monastery from the seaside, he stayed in the cave to cultivate himself.

During his occasional breaks, he would reflect on his two rivals.

The characteristics of Toyuan are very simple.

He possesses immense strength.

When that long black iron rod fell, it was as if a mountain had crashed down.

He has extremely rich combat experience, and his moves are wide and powerful, yet without the slightest sluggishness.

When fighting this kind of person, you can't rely on brute force, otherwise you'll easily find yourself on the defensive.

The Celtics are completely different.

Light-footed, swift with a knife, and proficient in spiritual techniques.

If the Torontos is like a giant elephant charging head-on, then the Celtics are like a venomous snake lurking in the shadows.

The most dangerous thing is never the knife in his hand, but the mental attack he might launch at any time.

"One is heavy, the other is fast."

Xilun sat cross-legged in the meditation room, his fingertips gently tapping his knees.

"To deal with Toyuan, you must use his strength to deflect his force. To deal with the Celts, you must first maintain your composure."

He did not rush to attend Lowell's banquet.

He casually pressed the silver-white invitation into the corner of his desk, letting time pass by.

Elena made a special trip after learning about it.

"Are you really not going?"

She stood at the entrance of the cave, her brows slightly furrowed.

"The youngest son of the Star Ring City Lord is personally hosting a banquet and has invited prospective core disciples. If you refuse, people will inevitably think you are ungrateful."

"What's so special about attending a banquet?"

Xilun was wiping the Thunder Spear without even looking up.

The lightning patterns on the gun body flowed slowly under the lamplight, like a blue-white lightning dragon coiling around it.

Elena took a few steps closer and lowered her voice, "Do you know why Lowell invited you?"

"They were interested in his status as a prospective core disciple."

"That's all?"

Xilun looked up.

Elena sighed softly: "The Lord of Star Ring City is quite old. Lowell's elder brother is vying for the right of succession with him. Although the position of Lord may not necessarily fall to them, they will most likely inherit the wealth, connections, and trade routes left by the Lord."

"So, Lowell is trying to win people over in advance."

"That's right."

Elena looked at him seriously. "Besides, this isn't just ordinary social interaction. Once you go, it's tantamount to stating your position to some extent. If the two brothers really start fighting in the future, it will be difficult for you to stay out of it."

Xilun paused for a moment, then asked, "You recommend I go?"

I suggest you don't go.

Elena answered readily.

"Cultivation resources can be obtained through various means, but choosing sides is something you must never do lightly. Especially since you are currently only a prospective core disciple, far from being someone the City Lord of Star Ring City can truly fear. If you choose the wrong side, this so-called banquet will be nothing more than a noose around your neck."

Xilun nodded.

You have a point.

Elena was slightly taken aback by his quick agreement.

Xilun sheathed his spear and said calmly, "Then I won't go."

"Aren't you going to reconsider?"

"unnecessary."

His goal is to reach a higher level, not to mingle with the powerful and wealthy.

If he has enough strength, others will naturally come to him.

If you lack the strength, even if you sit in the main seat at a banquet, you are merely a pawn in the eyes of others.

Elena looked at Siren's calm profile and suddenly felt a mix of emotions.

She knew that Xilun was right.

That's precisely why she felt this man was different from others.

Unlike his young disciples who couldn't wait to show off their achievements, or those who were overly eager to curry favor with nobles...

A sycophantic rogue cultivator.

In Xilun's eyes, all external things seem to be merely tools to reach a higher realm.

"Oh, right." Elena suddenly remembered something, "You said you wanted to find powerful sea monsters, and there's been some news about it recently."

Xilun's gaze sharpened.

"What sea monster?"

"It's not certain yet." Elena shook her head. "I asked the people at Drunken Flower Residence to keep an eye out for news in the vicinity. It's said that there's a Fire Ghost Tribe in the northern part of the island. The people there worship totems, and powerful alien creatures often appear near the tribe."

"The Fire Ghost Tribe?"

"Um."

Elena's expression turned serious.

"The people there are very uncivilized, and I've heard they still retain the habit of eating raw meat and drinking blood. However, their proportion of extraordinary individuals is astonishingly high. Often, in a tribe of ten thousand people, one third-tier extraordinary individual will be born. Some say it's because the totems they worship can grant them power."

Xilun slowly narrowed his eyes.

A totem that can give birth to a third-tier extraordinary individual in a tribe of ten thousand must be extraordinary.

Moreover, if the alien species there are powerful enough, they might be able to give him truly useful talents.

"I'll keep inquiring," Elena said. "I'll let you know when I have concrete information."

"Thank you for your help."

There's no need for these words between us.

Elena looked away, her tone feigning nonchalance: "But if you really want to go, you'd better prepare in advance. The northern part of the island where the Fire Nether Tribe is located is not close to here."

Xilun nodded and said nothing more.

After Elena left, the cave returned to silence.

He closed his eyes and continued to circulate the Overturning Sea Technique.

Meanwhile, in another brightly lit mansion in Star Ring City, Celt had just finished reading the transcript of the assessment.

He stared at the two words "Xilun" on the paper and remained silent for a long time.

"Young master, should we have someone cancel this assessment?" the old servant asked cautiously.

Celtic did not answer.

He slowly rose and picked up the black and gold longsword that was placed on the table.

"I didn't pass the core disciple assessment back then, not because I wasn't strong enough."

He stroked the scabbard, a cold glint appearing deep in his eyes.

"It's just because of the bottleneck."

He was having an incredibly smooth-sailing time back then.

They have no shortage of cultivation resources, a powerful family background, and are flattered wherever they go.

The more this was the case, the less he could endure true asceticism.

Swain urged him to calm down and build a solid foundation step by step.

He, however, believed that it was cowardly, a path chosen only by those without talent.

So he switched to another sect and used faster and more intense methods to forcefully improve.

The result was that the power got out of control.

During that period, he even showed faint signs of becoming possessed by a demon.

He never took the final step.

"But things are different now."

Celtic closed his eyes.

With the help of the resources of the Copper Coin Merchant Guild, one of the top three merchant guilds on Star Ring Island controlled by his father, he acquired a sword technique that was very suitable for him.

The Blood Prison Heart Sutra - Blade Chapter: Cultivating the Blood Prison Heart Sutra requires killing.

Every time a person kills, every time blood is drawn, a wisp of power is fed back to them.

That feeling of hovering on the edge of death gradually made him see his own heart more clearly.

What he called inner demons were nothing more than fears he was unwilling to acknowledge.

He was neither afraid of killing nor being killed.

His only fear was proving Swain right.

Now, as long as he defeats Xilun, he can completely sever this idea.

"Master is wrong."

Celt opened his eyes, a flash of bloodshot light in them.

"His path is wrong."