High Martial: I Use Everything as Swords

The invisible barrier at the cave’s entrance shimmered with a watery light.

It divided the inside and outside into two separate worlds.

Outside was a deathly still, pitch-black darkness.

Inside was the somewhat stifling Safe Zone.

Zhang Hao stood to the side with his arms crossed.

His sharp gaze was fixed on every team member who was eager to get started.

"Are you ready?"

Han Feng stood at the edge of the barrier, not rushing to answer.

He reached out and unclipped the flight tactical helmet hanging from his waist.

This was no bulky, fully-enclosed helmet.

Rather, it was a component of the Ghost Bat Wingsuit—light, thin, and solid.

It had a streamlined design, with only a wide, holographic tactical visor over the eyes.

On top of the helmet, a beetle-like metal module was quietly attached.

Han Feng pulled three Spirit Coins from his pocket.

With nimble fingers, he pressed them one by one into the module’s slots.

CLICK.

CLICK.

CLICK.

Three crisp clicks.

The originally dim Resonant Calming Module instantly lit up with a faint blue halo.

The halo then faded, leaving behind only an extremely low-frequency hum.

Han Feng put on the helmet and fastened the chin strap.

He reached up and pressed the activation button near his ear.

BZZT—

An indescribable cooling sensation instantly enveloped the back of his head.

Special frequency waves traveled through his skull, instantly calming his previously agitated spirit.

’These three Spirit Coins were well worth the cost,’ Han Feng thought.

Once he had done all that, he turned to look at Wang Meng behind him.

"Brother Meng, tighten the harness."

Wang Meng stood behind Han Feng, his thick arms tightly gripping the safety clip on Han Feng’s tactical belt.

"Fengzi, don’t overdo it."

Wang Meng’s booming voice echoed through the cave, making everyone’s ears ring.

"It’s only our first day in here."

"If you lose your mind, I’m not responsible for dragging an idiot back with me."

Han Feng shot him an annoyed glare over his shoulder.

"Can’t you ever wish me well?"

"If I lose my mind, you can just sell all my gear. It’ll be enough for you to live the high life for a whole year."

"Sounds great. In that case, hurry up and lose your mind."

Wang Meng grinned, revealing a full set of white teeth, and the tense atmosphere instantly eased.

Han Feng turned back around to face the pitch-black darkness outside the cave.

Although he had the aid of the helmet module, he didn’t let his guard down for a second.

Sword Qi surged through his bones, sending a keen chill throughout his body and bringing his mind into sharp focus.

He adjusted his breathing as a line of green data streamed across his visor.

He took a step forward.

Half of his body passed through that thin barrier.

HUMMM—

A bone-chilling cold instantly enveloped his entire body.

What was once just an uncomfortable chill now became a tangible torrent of cold, seeping through his pores and boring into his bones.

At the same time, countless fragmented, noisy, and malicious whispers echoed directly in his mind.

"Hungry..."

"So cold..."

"Come down and join me..."

These voices had no logic and didn’t belong to any known language.

But their meaning was understood directly by the brain.

It was a pure, primal wave of negative emotion, searching for any crack in his mental defenses to bore through.

ZZZT—ZZZT—ZZZT.

The resonant module on his helmet spun up to its limit.

The special frequency bands it emitted filtered out most of the sharp, piercing ravings.

The remaining noise was still grating, but it could no longer shake Han Feng’s focus.

’This thing really works.’

Han Feng’s gaze sharpened.

An ordinary person, even a cultivator at the Meridian Passage Realm, would have been momentarily stunned if they lacked mental defenses.

But his mind was still clear.

’Activate Spiritual Vision.’

He thought the command, and the world before his eyes changed.

The originally pitch-black void was stripped of its facade in his vision.

It was no longer simple darkness, but a gray miasma filled with chaotic Energy.

Floating within this gray mist were translucent, distorted spheres of light.

They had no fixed shape.

Some looked like a stretched-out, weeping face, while others resembled a tangle of tentacles.

And some were simply a constantly writhing mass of rotten flesh.

These were the so-called "Spirit Bodies."

They wandered aimlessly through the air, emitting a nauseating spiritual radiation.

It seemed to have sensed the aura of a living person.

The "mass of rotten flesh" Spirit Body closest to Han Feng suddenly froze.

Then, like a shark that had smelled blood, it abruptly stretched its form and lunged toward Han Feng’s face.

It was incredibly fast.

The rush of oncoming malice made his eyes sting behind his visor.

Han Feng’s eyes turned cold, and his body reacted instinctively.

SHING!

His Black Tungsten Gold Longsword flashed from its sheath, carving a cold gleam of light through the air.

The powerful, heavy strike precisely split the center of the lunging Spirit Body.

However, something happened that made Han Feng’s pupils contract.

The sharp Longsword passed right through the Spirit Body.

It was like slicing through air, meeting no resistance and causing no damage whatsoever.

’Physical immunity!’

He had long heard that Spirit Bodies were tough, but seeing a physical attack prove completely useless with his own eyes still made his heart lurch.

The Spirit Body passed through the blade and lunged right at Han Feng’s face.

Its twisted face was practically pressed against his visor.

ZZT-ZZT-ZZZT—

The resonant module on his helmet let out a frantic electrical crackle, clearly under immense strain.

Nauseating Spiritual Contamination seeped through the visor, assaulting Han Feng head-on.

The cooling sensation in his mind began to buckle, unable to suppress the raging insanity.

His vision even started to blur and double.

’Damn it!’

Han Feng cursed inwardly. Simple physical attacks were useless, just as he’d expected.

As the Spirit Body was about to slip through a gap in his helmet, he suddenly recalled the power he had just awakened in a flash of desperation.

’Sword Qi!’

The sharp, domineering, metallic energy coiled deep within his bones.

"Get the hell away from me!"

Han Feng let out a low roar.

The Sword Qi in his body surged madly along the meridians in his arm, instantly pouring into the longsword in his hand.

The originally black blade was instantly coated with a faint, silvery-gray luster, emitting a subtle hum.

SWISH!

Han Feng flicked his wrist and slashed out once more.

SHRRIIIP—

This time, it no longer felt like cutting through air.

A sense of resistance, as if cutting through something solid, traveled up the blade.

The "mass of rotten flesh" let out a piercing shriek as the Sword Qi-infused longsword cleaved it in two.