Returning to the Mysterious Era

"It's just up ahead; there are at most five kilometers left to go. We need to get out of this swampy mire as soon as possible! The muddy water has already seeped into the gaps of my armor. Damn it, it's far too heavy..."

Three figures were moving through interwoven thickets and swampland. It was a remote southwestern corner of the Pale Lands, adjacent to the Rotting Marshes. Hence, parts of the terrain had a marshy texture, displaying fissures similar to those of Ash City.

Thud, thud, thud...

Patches of inky mud exploded beneath the metal boots. The sound of Iron Knight charging forward resembled an elephant stampede, as he forcibly created a sunken path through the marsh. Ghost-Man and Cassius, on the other hand, moved far more lightly, leaving no footprints in the mud as they sped along.

Iron Knight would have liked to move as nimbly, but his suit of armor was tied to his combat ability, so he absolutely refused to remove it unless necessary. It was similar to Ghost-Man's quirk of always wearing a mask on his face. Strangely enough, these two top-tier knight-level marked-ones had known each other for years and cooperated on many missions. Yet, they had never seen each other's true face.

Squish, squish, squish...

The three silhouettes looked like parallel black lines from above, splitting the entire marsh into two sections.

"Move aside." An expressionless Cassius suddenly addressed Iron Knight beside him. No sooner had he spoken than he leaped forward with a swift and ferocious chop. A chilling crimson arc tore through the air with an intensely perilous Qi, slicing past Iron Knight's metal visor and heading straight for the muddy ground.

Splash!

The mire churned, suddenly taking the shape of a whirlpool. A huge, barrel-thick dark-green python sprang out of the whirlpool. Its fanged mouth gaped wide, revealing rows of spiral teeth. Countless tiny snakes writhed out of the python's mouth like a swarm of tongues.

Thanks to Cassius's warning, Iron Knight dodged backward in time. The python had lunged in vain, but met Cassius's unstoppable, descending arm.

Swish...

Cassius’s glowing crimson forearm acted like the sharpest guillotine as it cleaved the python into two halves. It slid through the python as smoothly as a hot knife through chilled butter, spilling a flood of blood and viscera. It was as though Cassius had held a blade in place and the python had sliced itself right down the middle.

He flexed and the blood splattered and atomized into a fine mist in midair. Cassius glanced at the python's body, still writhing like an eel, but did not seem overly surprised by the dark creature's vitality. He signaled the other two with his eyes, continuing onward toward their destination.

"Hiss, hiss, hiss..."

Crawling and burrowing sounds emerged from beneath the swamp, and swarms of venomous insects and serpents poured from holes in the ground. Drawn by the scent of blood, they feasted on the python's corpse in a frenzy. It took them mere moments to gnaw the remains down to half a skeleton.

However, shortly after their feast, all the poisonous creatures perished next to the python's corpse. A mound of insects and serpents piled up in a dark, motionless hill. Upon closer inspection, one would have noticed tiny "teeth" appearing on these small insects, slowly gnawing through exoskeletons and internal organs alike. They shredded and dissolved their prey into their utterly raw forms.

This was Cassius’s Death's Fang Force from the Southern Dipper Fist. Cassius had benefited greatly in that combat trial as he watched the development of Southern Dipper Red Falcon Fist. Consequently, his insight into Death's Fang Force had grown deeper.

What Cassius had just activated was the transmissible property of Death's Fang Force, or in other words, its reproductive trait. Even though the creature was dead, the energy still lingered in the python's corpse for a while. During that time, anyone who touched its remains would become a carrier of Death's Fang Force. It would spread like a plague.

Moreover, he was exploring a way to develop the transmissible aspect into a fully reproductive one. For example, Death's Fang Force could draw some energy while killing its target, thus prolonging its own duration. If mastered, it could exist indefinitely, eroding all forms of undead.

That was one of the ancient pioneers' theories recorded on the first floor of the combat trial hall, though it was difficult to achieve. Cassius actually found it quite fascinating. Many formidable and terrifying techniques often began from such small sparks of inspiration.

If he wanted to develop his own path for Southern Dipper Red Falcon Fist, he needed to refine his methods bit by bit through experimentation and real combat. Much like Feng Liusi's ultimate move, Blood Falcon Beak.

"Finally, we're out of that hellish swamp. There's still about two kilometers..." Iron Knight stood on ground strewn with rubble, gazing into the distance. There, a horn-shaped mountain gorge rose nearly a thousand meters into the air.

"Be careful. Howling Canyon is full of Dead Spirits. You should remember how dangerous that last Dead Spirit we ran into was." Ghost-Man offered a warning with narrowed eyes, clearly not at ease.

Wu~

A gust of wind swept past, and even from thousands of meters away, the trio heard eerie wails faintly carried by the breeze. As they drew nearer, the weeping grew louder and clearer until it felt right beside their ears. When they reached the canyon's mouth, Cassius felt the chill wind blowing from within.

The wails echoed endlessly, as though men and women of all ages were crying out in unison. It instilled a dreadful, spine-chilling sense of horror.

Ghost-Man and Iron Knight both felt a tremor in their hearts, yet Cassius strode boldly forward. Cassius's decisive behavior somehow encouraged the other two. They quickly followed him into the depths of Howler's Gorge.

At first, it resembled an ordinary canyon. The ground was littered with jagged rocks, debris, and thick weeds. Each side had steep, gray cliff faces, occasionally draped in some unidentified variety of moss.

However, after going a bit farther, the surrounding cliffs took on a strange appearance. Dark lines, resembling decorative patterns, were carved across the rock surface, as if worms were writhing inside the stone. Moreover, the stone had acquired a faintly translucent, jade-like quality.

Cassius surveyed it briefly, then sped up his pace until they traveled roughly two or three hundred meters deeper into the canyon. He halted abruptly, casting a sharp gaze at the cliff face. Countless dark caves riddled the mountainsides like a wasps' nest. Faint silhouettes of humanoid forms appeared within those holes. They stood in various postures, staring blankly like puppets. They were Dead Spirits—every single one of them.

The souls of combat artists from thousands of years past ended up gathering here for respite from across the Pale Lands.

"Excellent!" Cassius spat out a single word, his cold expression shifting ever so slightly as a burning light flared in his eyes.

Most Covert Martial Arts Practitioners found endless joy in battling heaven or earth, but Cassius believed the greatest thrill was still in fighting other people. He wanted to face off in life-and-death duels with combat artists of the highest caliber. Anyone truly intent on advancing in Covert Martial Arts needed an unyielding will in their heart! Whether it was a savage spirit, a dominant force, or sheer pride, he was unwilling to lose!

Sweeping through a county's geniuses and contesting their elders often led to rapid breakthroughs into the realm of the combat artist. That was exactly how the so-called Eastern Three Stars and others had achieved it in the past. Although Qi existed as an independent power, it was still influenced by the mental will of its wielder.

The loftier and more confident one's spirit, the greater one's grand ambition. That surge of Qi would become increasingly potent, granting greater strength and making it easier to transcend one's own limits. Furthermore, the more extensive a person's experiences, the more profound their Qi became.

The most crucial aspect of such experiences were life-and-death battles. How did a combat artist hone their skill? By going all out in fighting powerful foes and mortal enemies. However, true mortal adversaries were rare in the real world. At most, there were friendly visits to spar.

Even for a martial enthusiast like Feng Liusi, the number of combat artists he fought in life-or-death matches could be counted on two hands. After all, you could hardly force people to risk their lives for no reason, and there were only a few such battle-obsessed fighters in the entire Covert Martial Arts community at any given time.

Yet, at that moment, Cassius stood before an endless array of sparring partners. Every combat artist from ancient times all the way to the final days of the Hongli Empire was gathered here. He wanted to witness their varied Covert Martial Arts and their honed combat techniques.

"Would you two like to give it a try?" Cassius glanced at Ghost-Man and Iron Knight beside him.

They both shook their heads and instinctively backed away to a safer distance. Cassius turned back around. Raising his palm, he shattered the thin jade-like membrane covering the nearest cave entrance, startling the humanoid figure within. He abruptly opened his vacant eyes, revealing nothing but a grayish-white expanse in place of pupils.

Thump.

The cave shook as the Dead Spirit burst forth. Dust roiled from the ground, swirling upward in a gray cloud. A silhouette shot forward within the mist with arms angled wide. In that fleeting glance, it appeared like an eagle soaring gracefully through the air.

"Raptor Fist! Perfect timing!" A spark lit in Cassius's eyes, his entire skeleton cracking audibly as though opening like an umbrella. His muscle fibers twisted into cords of steel, swelling as he dropped into a fighting stance. He drove his foot into the ground, and then vanished.

Both Cassius and the Dead Spirit moved at a blistering pace as they raced toward each other. As the Dead Spirit charged, its upper body hunched, with muscles swelling all across its back to its right arm. A clawed strike lashed out violently.

Cassius refused to yield, angrily spreading his five fingers, each large knuckle and vein bulging. He made the air whistle as he swung and met the attack head-on.

Bang!

The air rippled like waves, and faintly, two shrieks of a raptor echoed. Cassius was forced half a step back, while the Dead Spirit, who looked like a middle-aged man, staggered five or six steps back. Each of its steps left a deep pit in the ground.

Regardless, it quickly lowered its center of gravity, and regained balance at once. It positioned both arms diagonally across its chest, forming a cross. All ten fingers were shaped like eagle talons, bent at the joints like daggers. It charged forward with bounding strides, both arms sweeping as though wings in a glide. Iit covered the distance between them in the blink of an eye and was now mere meters away from Cassius.

"That was quick." Cassius threw a punch, showing no intention of dodging. The Dead Spirit appeared eager to engage at close range, so he obliged.

Boom!

First, a fist collided with a claw, followed by a flurry of impacts like firecrackers.

Bang, bang, bang...

Four arms clashed rapidly in midair, each displaying their respective Covert Martial Arts. The more basic their technique, the more reliant on their foundational strength and combat experience.

Cassius did not use his full Golem Covert Martial Arts, nor did he draw on Southern Dipper Force. He met the Dead Spirit with only his most fundamental techniques yet still dominated the exchange. He demonstrated total control: whenever he moved forward to collide, the Dead Spirit was forced to retreat. The opponent had to evade all his crafty punches.

All of these exchanges happened in an extremely brief span. From a distance, one only saw two blurred figures weaving back and forth in ferocious combat.

Off in the distance, Ghost-Man and Iron Knight narrowed their eyes, silently backing away a bit more. This was the difference in how a combat artist fought compared to other paths. They trained speed, strength, defense, and reflexes in equal measure. They were like humanoid tanks capable of high-speed movement. An ordinary car would fall apart even from a gentle collision, let alone a direct strike.

Though Ghost-Man and Iron Knight possessed combat artist-level strength, they still disliked dealing with such adversaries who had almost no weak points. Take this Dead Spirit, for example... as well as the entire group of Dead Spirits in the hundred-meter cliff face in Howling Canyon.

This was possibly the most dangerous area in the entirety of Pale Lands! As stated in the mission, so long as one did not shatter that jade membrane outside the caves, the other Dead Spirits would not swarm them.

If it was one-on-one, they were manageable. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

Screee!!!

Just then, the sounds of a raptor echoed from the heated battle site ahead. Ghost-Man looked up and could almost see two massive birds contending in midair. One was entirely crimson, a bloodthirsty and ferocious falcon. The other was jet black, a formidable and ruthless iron-feathered eagle. Each measured nearly ten meters in size, their wings blotting out much of the light. It was as though the sky over that part of the gorge had turned completely dark.

Rumble!

The iron-feathered eagle dove down and crashed into the ground. The Dead Spirit's whip-like leg struck like a battle-axe, blasting a deep crater in the earth.

Swish!

The blood falcon thrust both talons forward, snapping onto the eagle's chest. It was Cassius's leaping knee strike that smashed violently into the Dead Spirit's chest. They both hurtled backward and crashed hard into the cliff face.

It looked as though a menacing blood falcon had been gripping the iron-feathered eagle and driven it into the rocky wall.

Boom!

The ground shook violently, debris scattered, and a cloud of gray dust spread outward like a mist. The earth quaked in the wake of the giant beasts' fierce struggle.

Cassius spread his arms wide, forming a straight line. The massive muscles of his back flexed and converged, carving contours resembling a grimacing face.

With a sudden swing of both hands, he blasted the Dead Spirit's head apart. The blood falcon's giant beak rose and fell in midair like a slingshot-propelled projectile, piercing the iron-feathered eagle's skull.

It opened its mouth, devouring it. Cassius released the corpse with a look of satisfaction on his face. He extended his right thumb, pressing it gently against the center of his chest.

"Pop... pop..." One after the other, two sounds like the popping of bottle caps rang out. A dusky Qi rained down, enshrouding Cassius in a hazy veil.