Martial Dao: I Can Enhance My Talents

SWOOSH!

The longsword pierced the air, leaving a crisp, cold glint in its wake.

Fang Han’s eyes were focused. Recalling the stance from the Sword Form Chart, he stepped forward half a pace with his left foot, flipped his wrist, and slowly executed a thrust—"Gentle Breeze Brushing the Willows."

His movements were practiced, a clear sign of the hard work he had put in. Yet, that was the only praiseworthy aspect; his form completely lacked the elegant, nimble grace a gentle breeze should possess.

The sound of the blade cutting through the air was sluggish and heavy, devoid of the lightness of a passing breeze.

Clearly, in terms of Realm, he had only reached Entry Level, the first of the five tiers: Entry Level, Minor Achievement, Mastery, Great Success, and Perfection.

It wasn’t that he was exceptionally useless for taking over a year to reach the Entry Level in a Basic Martial Technique.

In fact, most of the disciples who started training at the same time as him were also at this level. Very few had surpassed Entry Level to reach Minor Achievement.

It could only be said that in this world, mediocrity was the norm. Geniuses were always rare.

If everyone were a Martial Artist, if everyone were a genius, then the saying "all pursuits are lowly, only the Martial Artist stands supreme" would not exist.

Again, and again.

Sweat trickled down his temples, dripping onto the green flagstones beneath his feet.

Fang Han was completely engrossed, focused only on the sword in his hand.

His Talent was average, so he would make up for it with sweat. He would bridge the gap in Talent with hard work.

Effort might yield a reward; no effort would certainly yield nothing.

The sun rose and the moon fell five times.

Several more figures had vanished from the training grounds. A few more disciples, knowing their cause was hopeless, had quietly departed in silence.

The murmurs of discussion, initially filled with surprise, gradually faded into numb acceptance.

A suffocating tension filled the air, a mixture of the despondence of those who had given up and the anxiety of those who persisted.

Fang Han was one of the silent persisters.

He appeared on time every day, and after drinking a bowl of scalding Qi Blood Soup, he would immerse himself in the tempering of the Crane Form.

With every session of his Pile Skill, he exhausted all his strength, squeezing every last drop of potential from his 2x Root Bone Talent.

The qi and blood in his body grew more vigorous by the day, the momentum of its rushing currents more immense.

The sensation of his skin and membranes being tempered also grew stronger day by day.

The thin membrane of the bottleneck that had obstructed him for two months grew thinner and more fragile under the constant, violent assault of his qi and blood.

A premonition of a power about to break free from its cocoon grew ever clearer and stronger in his mind.

Another morning arrived.

Fang Han tilted his head back and drained the last mouthful of medicinal soup from his bowl. A familiar scorching heat exploded in his abdomen, instantly igniting his entire body.

"Crane Form!"

Fang Han instantly sank into the Pile Skill.

Driven by his will, the immense qi and blood that had accumulated in his body for days erupted like long-suppressed volcanic lava.

A torrent of heat, far more violent and scalding than ever before, surged forth with unstoppable force, roaring as it charged toward the skin and membranes all over his body, which had already been tempered to their absolute limit!

Pain!

The excruciating pain from this torrent far surpassed anything he had experienced before.

It was as if countless red-hot needles were piercing his skin and membranes, or as if a heavy stone roller was grinding over him again and again.

But he gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead as sweat poured out like a stream. His body, however, remained as steady as a rock, pushing the Pile Skill to its absolute peak.

His will was locked firmly onto that membrane, which was on the verge of tearing. All his qi and blood transformed into a battering ram.

BOOM—!

At that very instant, when the pain reached its zenith and his spirit was focused to its sharpest point.

It felt as though an invisible floodgate inside Fang Han’s body had been utterly shattered by this unstoppable torrent.

A deep hum, like thunder rolling from the depths of the earth, suddenly vibrated out from within his body.

The sound wasn’t loud, but it carried a sense of solid power that spread clearly across the silent training grounds.

Fang Han’s entire body trembled violently!

The skin and membranes all over him, stretched taut to their limit, suddenly contracted inward, as if clenched by an immense force.

Immediately after, an indescribable sense of power—tougher and more immense—erupted from deep within his skin and membranes like a bursting dam, instantly surging through his entire body.

Skin and Flesh Integration, power coursing through the body!

In that moment of contraction and release, the once-taut skin and membranes seemed to have undergone a complete metamorphosis.

A brand new, abundant sense of power filled every inch of his muscles.

Fang Han’s eyes snapped open. A sharp glint flashed through them, carrying the ecstatic sharpness of one who had just broken free from shackles.

"Fang Han broke through... to the Flesh Refining Realm?!"

At that moment, every gaze in the training grounds, as if drawn by a magnet, locked onto Fang Han. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

The eyes of the disciples who were still struggling, far from the Flesh Refining Realm, instantly erupted with irrepressible envy and even jealousy.

Their gazes were scorching as they stared fixedly at Fang Han, as if wanting to burn the image of his breakthrough into the depths of their minds.

Fang Han... that quiet, unremarkable branch family disciple with mediocre Talent, had actually broken through at the last moment.

This was no different from dropping a massive boulder into a deep pool of despair, stirring up huge waves and even more complex emotions. ’If he can do it, does that mean I still have a sliver of hope?’

"To think he broke through in the final month!"

Atop the high platform, Tutor Fang Zhen’s sharp, hawk-like eyes fell on Fang Han for the first time.

On his face, which was usually as still as an old well, an eyebrow twitched upward ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise passing through his eyes.

He had seen Fang Han’s diligence, but he had his own judgment regarding Fang Han’s Root Bone Talent.

In his view, Fang Han was the type of disciple who ’tries his best, but this is his limit’.

Breaking through to the Flesh Refining Realm before the deadline was beyond his expectations.

"Barely breaking through in the last month... he may have passed the family assessment, but his Talent is limited!"

On the grounds, the disciples whose auras were already dense and who had long since entered the Flesh Refining Realm held themselves with an air of superiority.

Their gazes swept over Fang Han for only a moment before shifting away with indifference.

Surprise? A little.

Concern? Not in the slightest.

Barely managing a breakthrough right before the final assessment deadline—at this level, it was just enough to cling to his qualification to remain in the Martial Hall.

Compared to top performers like them, who had broken through long ago and were even beginning to advance toward the Muscle Refining Realm, Fang Han’s small bit of progress was like a firefly next to the bright moon—not even on the same level.

They withdrew their gazes, their faces betraying no emotion, as if what had just happened was a trivial matter. They returned to focusing on their own Cultivation, their postures calm and self-assured.

HAAAAH—

Fang Han slowly concluded his practice, feeling the ceaseless new power surging within him. The sense of stability and resilience from the Skin and Flesh Integration was unprecedented.

He raised his head, his calm gaze meeting the complex stares directed at him.

Whether it was envy, jealousy, or indifference and disregard, none of it could shake the resolve in his heart.

He clenched his fist, and his knuckles let out a faint crack.

He had done it—broken through to the Flesh Refining Realm within a month. And his path as a Martial Artist had only just begun.