High Martial: I Use Everything as Swords

The system’s notification sound was nothing short of heavenly music.

Han Feng was stunned for a moment.

Then, the corners of his mouth uncontrollably curled up, finally breaking into a wide, silent grin.

’I’ve hit the jackpot.’

’This wasn’t just breaking even, it was a massive score!’

’Not only did I get the Spiritual Attribute for free, but I also managed to grind out a Divine Level Passive right at the Ghost Gate.’

This feeling of dancing on a knife’s edge and then pocketing the blade as a reward was intoxicatingly addictive.

He lay there on the ground, drenched in cold sweat, his eye sockets sunken. Paired with that eerie smile, he looked particularly unsettling in the dim cave.

"Holy shit..."

Fan Jian and Old Liu had intended to step forward and check on him, but that smile made them both recoil a step.

"This kid... he didn’t go crazy, did he?"

"Looks like it, definitely... A moment ago, his aura was as chaotic as a pot of boiling water. I almost thought he was going to explode on the spot!"

Zhang Hao’s brow furrowed as he strode over.

He held up two fingers and waved them in front of Han Feng’s goggles.

"Han Feng? Do you still recognize me? How many fingers am I holding up?"

The smile on Han Feng’s face vanished in an instant.

With a clean kip-up, he sprang from the cold ground and briskly dusted himself off.

"Captain, I’m fine."

He took off his helmet and wiped the cold sweat from his temples. His eyes were clear, without the slightest hint of madness.

"I just had a nightmare. I dreamed I owed Wang Meng fifty thousand Contribution Points and it scared me awake."

"When I opened my eyes and realized it wasn’t real, I couldn’t help but be happy for a little while longer."

"..."

The air in the cave was dead silent.

The concerned expression on Wang Meng’s face froze for a long moment before he squeezed out a sentence through gritted teeth.

"Fuck you! When the hell did I ever lend you money?!"

Seeing that he could still make such a joke, was thinking logically, and his eyes were no longer unfocused, everyone’s worries were finally put to rest.

"As long as you’re okay."

Zhang Hao’s gaze lingered on the helmet in Han Feng’s hand for a moment, but in the end, he didn’t ask any further.

Everyone had their own trump cards. As long as their goals were aligned, he, as the captain, had no interest in prying.

"Since you’re fine, go get some rest."

"Your spiritual fluctuations just now were extremely draining. Even if you pulled through, don’t push yourself."

"Yes, sir."

Han Feng didn’t try to act tough. He nodded and walked over to where Wang Meng had been sitting.

With the cold rock wall against his back, he reached out, his fingertips gently stroking the still-warm module on the helmet.

’If it weren’t for this thing Senior Brother Lin Hao gave me, if it weren’t for that fraction of a second of clarity it bought me, I might have truly been lost in that Illusion Realm forever.’

’This time, I owe him a favor.’

He closed his eyes and began to carefully examine the gains from this transformation.

The most earth-shattering change came from the spiritual level.

His original [Spiritual Vision] had a Perception range of barely five meters, and the image was blurry, as if looking through frosted glass.

But now.

With a mere thought.

That invisible net of Perception instantly spread out from him!

Five meters...

Five and a half meters...

Six meters!

The increase in Perception range was secondary; the real qualitative leap was in "clarity"!

If before it was a low-quality mosaic, now it was a 4K ultra-HD image where every detail was visible!

He didn’t even need to open his eyes to "see" the powerful Qi Blood surging and roaring like a furnace inside Wang Meng’s body.

He could even penetrate the thick rock walls and clearly capture the movement trajectories of the Spirit Bodies outside the cave.

The twisted, chaotic balls of light that emanated Spiritual Contamination, however, took on a different flavor in his Perception now.

They were no longer terrifying heralds of death.

Instead, they were walking, glowing, irresistibly tempting... great restorative Spirit Pills!

Han Feng put his helmet back on, his fingers lightly tapping the life-saving module.

His gaze passed through the crowd, through the wavering light screen of the Array, and finally landed on the churning gray fog outside the cave.

He licked his somewhat chapped lips, a desire glinting in his eyes that would make others shudder in fear.

’This isn’t some terrifying gray period.’

’As long as this helmet protects that last shred of mental clarity...’

’This is clearly a gluttonous feast meant for me and me alone.’

"The buffet has just begun."

...

The atmosphere in the cave was as oppressive as a block of lead.

Besides the sound of heavy breathing, there was only the low hum of the Runic barrier.

Zhang Hao stood at the cave entrance, holding an old-fashioned mechanical pocket watch, his gaze sharp as if scrutinizing something.

At the edge of the barrier, the one being "tortured" was Fan Jian.

This Meridian Passage Realm expert, usually known for his "Mad Dog" fighting style, was in a wretched state.

Half his body was sticking out of the barrier. His hands were desperately clawing at crevices in the rock, his knuckles white from the strain, and his legs were trembling like a leaf.

Beads of cold sweat slid from his temples, splashing into dark spots on the ground.

"Two minutes, thirty seconds."

Zhang Hao announced the time, his voice devoid of any emotion.

"I... I can’t take it anymore!"

Fan Jian roared, his voice cracking, and violently pulled his body back.

The moment he was back in the Safe Zone, his entire body went limp. He collapsed onto the ground, his chest heaving violently like a fish thrown onto the shore.

"How do you feel?"

Wang Meng moved closer and handed him a bottle of water.

Fan Jian waved his hand, his face as white as a sheet, his lips trembling.

"Disgusting... so fucking disgusting..."

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he couldn’t help but dry-heave.

"That feeling... it’s like hundreds of corpse beetles burrowed into my brain, chewing on my brain matter while laying maggots inside!"

In comparison, Old Liu was in slightly better condition.

Although the calm-minded sniper had also retreated, his face pale, he could at least remain standing.

"The Spiritual Contamination is highly targeted."

He said, rubbing his throbbing temples, his voice hoarse.

"It digs out your deepest fears, magnifies them a thousand times, and plays them on a loop in your head."

Zhang Hao nodded, his expression unchanging.

"This is normal."

"Martial Artists temper their bodies but not their minds. The spirit is their greatest weakness."

"This kind of tempering might feel worse than death, but it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

Some of the group looked shaken, while others were lost in thought.

In a corner, Han Feng leaned against the rock wall, his eyes still fixed intently on the world outside the cave.

That gaze wasn’t one of looking at a forbidden zone.

It was more like a wolf that had been starved for three days, staring at a flock of plump lambs.

After resting for just ten minutes, the feeling of swelling in his mind, which had been forcibly injected, dissipated completely.

In its place was an unprecedented clarity and excitement.

He stood up and patted the dust off his clothes.

"Going again?"

Wang Meng’s eyes instantly widened.

"Fengzi, are you crazy?"

"How long have you been resting? The captain’s rule is to wait an hour and a half between sessions!"

Han Feng’s actions immediately drew everyone’s attention.

Zhang Hao stepped forward to block his path, his expression grave.

"Don’t be reckless."

"Spiritual damage is irreversible. Once your foundation is injured and you turn into an idiot, no one can save you."

"Captain, I know what I’m doing."

Han Feng pointed to his own eyes, his tone calm yet confident.

"My Talent is Perception-type."

"I just discovered that it seems to have an extremely high resistance to this kind of Spiritual Contamination."

Zhang Hao was stunned.

He recalled Han Feng’s incredible insight high up in the air—that freakish Talent that could "see" air currents and "see" through a fighter jet’s malfunctions.

A Perception Talent was indeed directly linked to Spiritual Power.

And Han Feng’s recovery speed just now was absurdly fast.

Any other Body Tempering Realm cultivator would probably still be curled up in a corner, holding their head and drooling.

But Han Feng’s eyes were clear, and he even seemed... eager to try again.

"Fine."

Zhang Hao mulled it over for a moment and finally stepped aside, clearing the path.

"Since you’re confident, I won’t stop you."

"But remember my words. Don’t be a hero." 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

With that, he turned his head to look at Wang Meng.

"Take off your belt and tie it to him!"

"If you see something wrong, pull him back immediately!"

"You got it!"

Wang Meng didn’t hesitate, unbuckling the heavy-duty tactical belt that could probably tow a truck.

He fastened one end securely around Han Feng’s waist and wrapped the other end three times around his own wrist, tying it tight.

"Fengzi, go be as reckless as you want!"

"Brother Meng will be your sturdiest anchor!"

Han Feng tugged at the belt, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

"Easy there, don’t squeeze my kidneys out."

He walked toward the edge of the barrier again.

That soul-shuddering chill rushed toward him, but this time, it carried a hint of captivating, sweet viscera.

Without the slightest hesitation, Han Feng stepped out.

HUM—

Countless malicious whispers once again poured into his ears.

But this time, it was completely different.

The moment that cacophony of noise touched his consciousness, the [Heart Clarity and Nature Seeing] trait deep within his mind rippled with a cooling sensation.

It was like an invisible sound barrier, filtering the mind-shaking Spiritual Contamination into nothing more than indistinct background noise.

It was still there, but it could no longer stir up any waves.

Han Feng activated [Spiritual Vision].