Chapter 40: The one who killed you is a Black Armor Captain of the Black Ice Platform in Luyang Prefecture, Great Qin

With a single strike, the meridians of a Xiantian-realm Buddhist cultivator, renowned for his formidable physical strength, were severed.

This was the suppression of absolute power—a crushing dominance in both cultivation level and martial techniques.

Whether in terms of cultivation or the execution of martial arts, Zhang Yuan far surpassed the level of this early-stage Xiantian Buddhist cultivator.

"The one who kills you is Black Tiger, the Black Armor Lieutenant of the Black Ice Platform in Luyang Prefecture, Great Qin."

Zhang Yuan gave a low shout, stepped forward, and delivered a direct kick to the chest of the Xiantian cultivator, whose body was already deeply recessed from previous blows.

With the kick, the Buddhist cultivator's body was sent flying over thirty feet, crashing into a bluestone. The stone shattered, and his body naturally snapped as well.

A mass of Xiantian Qi instantly dissipated, transforming into a pillar of smoke.

From the moment Zhang Yuan arrived and struck to the killing of a Xiantian expert, less than a hundred breaths had passed.

Such prowess left the scattered Buddhist followers nearby staring in speechless astonishment.

Since when had a Xiantian powerhouse become as fragile as a child?

These martial artists of the *Jianghu* simply did not understand the nature of battlefield martial arts.

Although Zhang Yuan practiced many techniques, he had long since cultivated the habit of a single, decisive kill; he never hesitated when striking.

In the slaughter of a battlefield, life and death are decided within three to five moves; there is no room for circling and maneuvering.

Unless one truly encounters an equal opponent.

Unfortunately, no one here was qualified to be Zhang Yuan's equal.

In the rear, Yang Yaozu, who had rushed over wielding a long saber, looked up at the rising pillar of smoke with a look of bewilderment.

That Xiantian Buddhist cultivator had actually been killed by Zhang Yuan?

"Avenge your Guangyuan Village yourself," Zhang Yuan's voice drifted over.

Yang Yaozu's eyes instantly turned blood-red. Gripping his saber, he charged headlong at the scattered Buddhist followers.

His Guangyuan Village, which he had managed for over ten years, had been slaughtered to the last man by these Buddhists, and the village had been burned to the ground. How could he not hate them?

He wished he could cut these Buddhist cultivators into a thousand pieces!

Zhang Yuan ignored how Yang Yaozu would seek his revenge. He walked straight to the fallen Xiantian cultivator, searched through him with his hands, and retrieved a small iron box.

This iron box was clearly cast from meteoric iron; it had been hidden in the cultivator's chest and had not even been crushed by the force of his fist.

Fist momentum, or "fist intent," was essentially a method where, once a martial technique reached extreme proficiency and merged with one's own cultivation insights, it transformed into a profound power.

The same applied to blades and swords—there was sword qi, sword light, sword intent, and saber intent.

While "intent" sounded complex and mysterious, in Zhang Yuan's view, it was simply a matter of following the flow; once a technique was practiced to mastery, it would occur naturally.

Such an infusion of intent only increased the exerted martial power by about seventy to eighty percent.

The reason many practitioners were so superstitious about martial intent was that refining one's cultivation to such a pure state and aligning it with personal insight was an incredibly difficult task.

Most experts required decades or even centuries of continuous tempering to have a chance at comprehending intent and condensing a "Great Momentum."

In other words, those whose techniques could manifest intent were naturally experts who had honed themselves for countless years.

Of course, within the same level of cultivation, an increase in combat power of seventy to eighty percent was already an extraordinary feat.

By the time Zhang Yuan put away the iron box and stood up, Yang Yaozu had already slain the Buddhist followers.

He was in the late stage of the Houtian realm; striking in his fury, it was not difficult for him to kill a group of Buddhists whose spirits had been shaken.

*Clang—*

Yang Yaozu threw down his long saber, knelt before Zhang Yuan, and struck his head against the ground.

"Yang Yaozu thanks the Lord for avenging my Guangyuan Village."

"My life belongs to the Lord now."

Without Zhang Yuan killing the Xiantian Buddhist cultivator, it would have been impossible to avenge the blood feud of the hundred-plus people of Guangyuan Village.

Yang Yaozu had self-awareness; with his talent, it was impossible for him to ever step into the Xiantian realm in this lifetime.

"Your life is of no use to me," Zhang Yuan spoke clearly, his expression calm.

"Then I shall follow the Lord back to the authorities," Yang Yaozu looked up at Zhang Yuan.

Zhang Yuan had previously said he would take him to the Martial Guard Bureau as a prison warden.

Zhang Yuan's gaze fell upon Yang Yaozu. After a moment of contemplation, he said, "Take the remaining members of Guangyuan Village to Jiulin County and seek refuge with the Zhao family."

"If anyone asks, tell them Black Tiger saved you."

...

By the time the Sergeant and Qi Junliang arrived at Guangyuan Village, day had already broken.

Zhang Yuan sat on a stone cliff in front of the village, with some silver and weapons laid out before him.

"Zhang Yuan, are you alright?"

"Er He, are you injured?"

"Brother Yuan!"

The group crowded around, looking at Zhang Yuan with concern.

The path was difficult to travel at night; from a distance, they had seen the soaring flames and the rising pillar of smoke signaling the fall of a Xiantian expert.

The men from the Martial Guard Bureau had truly feared that Zhang Yuan might die at Guangyuan Village.

"I'm fine."

Zhang Yuan stood up and pointed toward the fallen Xiantian Buddhist cultivator, whose body lay twisted on the ground.

"These Buddhists from the Liangyuan Territory were planning to play the predator to prey on others, intending to wipe out most of Guangyuan Village."

"In the end, the mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. They were killed by Black Tiger."

"The Sarira they were searching for was also taken by Black Tiger."

Zhang Yuan merely recounted the facts, and the others could already piece together the process.

It was far too consistent with the style of *Jianghu* martial artists.

The lowest-level bandits were always the ones who did the work only to lose their lives or be abandoned.

Even external experts were not guaranteed to have the last laugh.

Those ruthless underworld experts, who operated without any sense of righteousness, were often the ultimate victors.

"Black Tiger... is that the fellow who recently killed the Mountain Master of White Sorrow Mountain?"

The Sergeant shook his head and said solemnly, "He's ranked in the top hundred of the Elite List. The higher-ups even issued a notice for Luyang Prefecture to keep a close eye on him."

For someone in the top hundred of the Elite List, intercepting a Xiantian Buddhist cultivator was indeed not difficult.

"A Sarira... no wonder those Buddhists were willing to fight to the death for it," Qi Junliang said softly, looking at the corpses of the Buddhists on the ground.

A group of soldiers stepped forward to search the burned village, gathered the remains, and took the bodies of the Buddhist cultivators back.

The silver and weapons Zhang Yuan had collected were also recorded as spoils.

Originally, the Luyang Prefecture Martial Guards were to break camp and return to the prefecture early in the morning, but because of last night's commotion—the loss of one guard and two others being seriously injured—the Sergeant was furious.

After the County Magistrate of Yong'an arrived, the two discussed the matter, and two squads of Martial Guards patrolled upstream along the Guangji River.

They directly wiped out several bandit strongholds along the way.

Many bandits who caught wind of the movement fled, and those who couldn't either lost their lives or became captives.

In any case, there were no wrongful killings during this river patrol.

Because Zhang Yuan had been chasing enemies all night and had secured many spoils, he was not assigned to the bandit suppression. Instead, he was stationed at the camp to look after the wounded.

In reality, it was to let him rest.

Entering his tent, he unfurled a book wrapped in cowhide.

*Iron Body Technique.*

The Buddhist techniques for tempering the physical body were not particularly advanced, but this technique differed somewhat from standard martial arts; it was useful for physical tempering.

This was exactly what Zhang Yuan needed.

He currently lacked the catalyst to enter the Grandmaster Realm and did not know how to find or pass the Grandmaster Tribulation; he could only find ways to continuously temper his body to increase his combat power.

This Buddhist body-tempering technique could indeed be put to use.

While flipping through the book, he crushed a "Perception Bead." After reading the technique three times and circulating it a few times in his tent, Zhang Yuan felt a slight change in his body.

When he clenched his fists, there was an added sense of tension.

His physical blood and strength had increased by at least two hundred catties.

Beyond the minor success of the *Iron Body Technique*, Zhang Yuan's killing of the Xiantian Buddhist cultivator had yielded thirty-six Buddhist Essence Beads.

Buddhist Essence Beads were a layer of power cultivated by Xiantian Buddhist practitioners in addition to their Xiantian True Essence.

Putting away the manual, Zhang Yuan took a small iron box from his robe.

Inside this iron box lay the Buddhist treasure: the Sarira.

(End of Chapter)