The Heavens: Man Covers the Heavens, Refines Treasures to Become an Emperor

"Wenbin!"

Qi Can was shocked and quickly went forward to check.

The entire audience erupted in uproar. No one had expected that Jiang Xuan's few words could cause someone to vomit blood and faint.

Instructor Xiao Ke stood on the sidelines.

She witnessed the whole thing, but couldn't blame Jiang Xuan; he hadn't broken any rules.

"Today's training is now over."

Xiao Ke said coldly.

"Take Xin Wenbin to the clinic."

The students looked at each other, their gazes towards Jiang Xuan now completely changed.

This "coward" whom they once mocked has not only displayed astonishing strength today, but also escaped unscathed in an almost shameless manner, even infuriating his opponent to the point of vomiting blood.

Jiang Xuan.

Ning Meng walked to Jiang Xuan's side and whispered.

"You've really offended Xin Wenbin this time."

Jiang Xuan patted Ning Meng on the shoulder.

"Let's go to the supply depot."

"Now?"

"Well, I've saved up enough points; it's time to get a better weapon."

As the two left the training ground, whispers and murmurs arose behind them.

"Jiang Xuan is simply insane."

"A madman? I think he's a genius!"

"Anyway, don't mess with him in the future."

The supply depot was located in the northwest corner of the camp; it was a gray-white stone building. The old man guarding the gate lazily raised his eyelids as the two arrived.

"Name, Student ID."

"Jiang Xuan, number seven, class A."

Jiang Xuan handed over his identity token.

The old man took the sign and crossed it out in the register.

"Three hundred and fifty points, what would you like to exchange them for?"

"Ordinary weapon, a battle sword."

The old man glanced at Jiang Xuan in surprise.

"Ordinary equipment? With your points, you can exchange it for something better."

"Just ordinary tools."

Jiang Xuan's tone was resolute.

The old man shrugged, turned, and went into the inner room. A moment later, he came out carrying a long, jet-black sword.

"Black Iron Battle Blade, High-Grade Mortal Weapon. 300 Points."

Jiang Xuan took the knife and ran his fingers over its blade. The edge gleamed coldly under the lamplight; though there was no fluctuation of spiritual energy, it exuded a chilling aura.

"A fine knife."

Jiang Xuan nodded in satisfaction and exchanged his remaining points for some healing pills.

After leaving the warehouse, Ning Meng finally couldn't help but ask.

"Why choose a mortal weapon? With your points, you could easily exchange them for a spiritual weapon."

Jiang Xuan smiled mysteriously.

"It has its own ingenious uses."

Ning Meng shook his head and didn't ask any further questions.

Jiang Xuan has many secrets. For example, in the past three weeks, no one knew how he jumped from the bottom of the standings to the middle.

"correct."

Ning Meng suddenly remembered something.

"Instructor Xiao Ke's gaze towards you just now was very complicated."

Jiang Xuan paused.

"oh?"

"It's like...both admiration and concern."

Ning Meng recalled.

"Your performance today was amazing."

Jiang Xuan smiled but did not answer.

He looked up at the sky, where the setting sun dyed the clouds blood-red, just like the crimson hue on the arena that day.

Meanwhile, in the instructors' room.

Xiao Ke stood by the window, holding a cup of tea that had gone cold.

Her gaze passed through the window and landed on two figures walking further and further away in the distance.

Jiang Xuan.

She whispered softly.

This student is very special.

Three weeks ago, he was a useless guy who couldn't even perform basic boxing; three weeks later, he was able to easily defeat a skilled fighter like Xin Wenbin.

What terrified her even more was Jiang Xuan's methods: he could crush his opponents with strength on the stage, and he could also kill with words.

What exactly did he go through?

Xiao Ke asked herself.

She recalled Jiang Xuan's expression when he refused Qi Can's challenge—that smug cunning, that dignified shamelessness—it was both infuriating and laughable.

"Is there no bottom line?"

Xiao Ke shook her head.

"No, he's just living his life in his own way."

Setting down her teacup, Xiao Ke walked to her desk and opened Jiang Xuan's file.

There are many blank spaces, just like this young man's future, full of infinite possibilities.

"perhaps."

Her expression was ambiguous.

"The training camp needs this kind of variable."

At night, inside the warehouse, a dim, yellow psionic lamp cast a long, slender shadow of the boy.

"Old Mo, give me a seal script brush and that dish of Azure Water Spirit Ink."

Jiang Xuan stood at the warehouse door, his voice calmer than that of a thirteen or fourteen-year-old boy.

Warehouse manager Lao Mo looked up from a pile of miscellaneous items, a hint of surprise in his cloudy eyes.

"Kid, that's second-tier spirit ink. Are you sure you can use it?"

Jiang Xuan did not answer, but simply extended his hand.

His palms were covered with tiny scars, marks left from long-term practice of spirit pattern engraving.

Old Mo sighed, turned around, and took out a small jade dish from the innermost cabinet. It contained emerald-green spirit ink, which gleamed strangely under the light.

Use it sparingly; this thing isn't cheap.

Thank you.

Jiang Xuan took the spirit ink and seal brush, then turned and walked towards the workbench in the corner of the warehouse.

At the other end of the warehouse, Xiaoman, who was counting supplies, leaned close to Lao Mo and whispered.

"Uncle Mo, what's this kid up to? That Azure Water Spirit Ink is for spirit pattern masters."

Old Mo looked at Jiang Xuan, who had already started working in the distance.

"Who knows? That kid's really weird."

In front of the workbench, Jiang Xuan placed an ordinary battle sword flat on the table.

He held a brush in his right hand, dipping it in the emerald ink. The moment the brush tip touched the blade, a wisp of pale blue spiritual energy overflowed from his fingertips, flowing along the brush and into the spiritual ink.

"He's engraving spirit patterns!"

Xiaoman was somewhat shocked.

"How old is he?"

Old Mo's brows furrowed even more.

"I met a girl named Feng Qingyou at Qinglu Academy who was a thirteen or fourteen-year-old spirit rune apprentice. She became a spirit rune master at nineteen, but that was because she had a powerful family and a master backing her up."

On the blade, intricate patterns gradually took shape under Jiang Xuan's brush.

His movements were fluid and seamless, without any pause.

"wrong."

Old Mo suddenly gasped.

"This isn't ordinary spirit pattern engraving; he's forging a spirit weapon! Can someone at the True Martial Realm forge spirit weapons?"

Xiaoman was so surprised that she couldn't speak.

In the cultivation world, spirit pattern masters are extremely rare, and those who can independently forge spirit artifacts are at least among the best spirit pattern masters.

Jiang Xuan's forehead was covered in fine beads of sweat, but his eyes remained focused.

The patterns on the blade became increasingly complex, and under the impetus of spiritual energy, the Azure Ink gradually seeped into the metal, merging with the blade.

"Uncle Mo, look at those patterns."

Xiaoman pointed to the gradually brightening blue light on the blade. Old Mo's eyes were filled with horror.

"This is a composite spirit rune? He can actually inscribe two attributes simultaneously!"

The warehouse was so quiet that only the faint sound of pen nibs rubbing against metal could be heard.

Jiang Xuan's breathing was steady and long, and the seal script brush in his hand was like an extension of his body, each stroke was so precise that it was outrageous.

"I remember he modified the Spirit Fire Furnace on the Zi Ying warship."

Old Mo muttered to himself.

"At the time, I thought someone had helped him."

Xiaoman swallowed.

"Uncle Mo, just who is this kid?"

Old Mo shook his head.

"Regardless of his background, this kid's future achievements are remarkable."

Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly shut his mouth, looked around, and lowered his voice.

"Remember, don't tell anyone about what happened today. Such genius, once discovered by someone with ulterior motives..."

Xiaoman nodded solemnly, and the two of them looked at the back of the boy who was focused on his work, their eyes filled with awe.

Meanwhile, in the open space in the center of Camp 40, Instructor Canlang stood on a high platform with his hands behind his back, his cold gaze sweeping over the students lined up below.

"Tomorrow's monthly assessment will determine your fate, and even the survival of Camp 40!"

The wolf's voice was like a blade scraping against metal.

"Camp 39 is no easy nut to crack."

Under the moonlight, the students' expressions varied.

Di Jun stood in the front row with his arms crossed and a disdainful sneer on his lips; Lei Xinyue stood quietly, her fingers unconsciously stroking the short sword at her waist; Gong Ming stood in the shadows, as if he had merged with the darkness.

"Di Jun, Lei Xinyue, and Gong Ming, the three of you are the camp's aces."

The wolf's gaze lingered on the three of them.

"But don't be careless. Camp 39 has three tough guys: Shi Yu, Ning Meng, and Qi Can, as well as skilled fighters like Li Qiu, Wen Mingxiu, and Mu Lengxin."

Di Jun chuckled.

"Instructor, you overestimate them. Last month we were just..."

"Last month was last month!"

The savage wolf interrupted sharply.

"According to reliable sources, Instructor Xiao Ke from Camp 39 has been giving them special training for the past month!"

Lei Xinyue frowned.

"Instructor Xiao Ke, is that the Blood Rose?"

The slain wolf nodded with a gloomy face.

"That's right, it's that madwoman who single-handedly wiped out a branch of the Black Fiend Sect. None of her trainees are easy to deal with."

Gong Ming finally spoke, his voice hoarse.

"I heard that today, someone named Jiang Xuan from Camp 39 defeated Xin Wenbin."

"Jiang Xuan?"

After pondering for a moment, the wolf shook its head.

"He's just a newcomer, nothing to worry about. The main concern is Shi Yu and his group, especially Qi Can. His Nine Nether Cold Force is already at a minor level, Di Jun, you need to be particularly careful."

Di Jun snorted dismissively.

"Nine Netherworld Cold Force? It's all just for show."

The wretch gave him a cold look.

"Arrogance is the beginning of failure. Everyone, get yourself in the right mindset tonight. Tomorrow, only victory is acceptable, defeat is not an option!"

The trainees responded in unison, but their voices clearly lacked confidence.

The wretch watched their departing figures.

He looked up toward Camp 39 in the distance, where it was completely silent, with only a few lights on.

It's too quiet.

The wrecked wolf muttered to himself.

"This is not normal."

In stark contrast to the tense atmosphere at Camp 40, Camp 39 was eerily quiet.

Moonlight shone on the simple barracks. There was no noise, no gathering, and the trainees went about their ordinary tasks.

Early the next morning, in the gray sky, a huge treasure ship landed in the center of Camp 39.

The ship's hull was entirely black, covered with dark red runes that gleamed eerily in the morning light.

"Everyone, board the ship!"

The camp instructor's cold voice echoed across the square.

Xiao Ke tightened the short sword at her waist and followed the twenty-four students onto the treasure ship one by one.

She could sense the tense atmosphere around her; everyone was secretly adjusting their mindset to prepare for the upcoming monthly assessment.

"I heard the assessment location this time is Scorpion Ridge."

A tall, thin student next to him whispered, his voice tinged with fear.

Xiao Ke didn't answer, but silently checked her equipment.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jiang Xuan standing alone on the ship's railing, gazing calmly into the distance, seemingly unconcerned about the impending battle.

As the treasure ship took off, treasure ships from other camps also began to take off, heading in the same direction.

The entire Bloodthirsty Camp was shrouded in a suffocating atmosphere, like the calm before a storm.

"Remember the rules."

"The instructor stood at the bow of the boat, his voice icy cold."

"Within the Poison Scorpion Ridge area, those who capture three nameplates advance, while those who lose a nameplate are eliminated. There are no other restrictions."

Xiao Ke clenched her fists, her nails digging deep into her palms.

This is a battle to the death; there is no room for mercy.

Moments later, gray miasma enveloped the entire Scorpion Ridge in a hazy mist.

The treasure ship landed on the edge of the area, and the trainees jumped off one by one, quickly disappearing into the dense jungle.

More than an hour later, in the swampy area.

Fang Song held his breath and plunged into the stench-filled swamp.

As an elite trainee of Camp 39, he chose this area with extremely poor visibility as his hunting ground.

The gray miasma reduced visibility to less than five meters, and bubbles occasionally rose from the surface of the swamp, making a "gurgling" sound.

"The perfect ambush point."

Fang Song smirked and held his spear horizontally in front of him, waiting for his prey to take the bait.

Just as he was about to completely disappear into the mud, a sudden change occurred!
A cold light burst forth from the mud, aiming straight for Fang Song's throat.

It was a girl holding a short sword, her eyes filled with cold killing intent.

"court death!"

Fang Song was prepared. His spear shot out like a venomous snake, accurately blocking the short sword. At the same time, he used the momentum to leap backward and create distance.

The girl missed her first attack, immediately changed tactics, and her short sword drew an arc as she attacked again.

Fang Song snorted coldly and swept his spear horizontally, forcing the girl back several steps.

"You think you can ambush me with such meager skills?"

Fang Song sneered, and was about to press his advantage when suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

"Pfft!"

A sharp pain shot through his abdomen. Fang Song looked down and saw a spear tip protruding from his abdomen, with blood gushing out along the wound.

"Ugh!"

He roared, enduring the excruciating pain, turned and swung his spear, forcing back the attacker, a man with a gun.

"A series of ambushes?"

Fang Song's forehead was covered in cold sweat, and the wound in his abdomen was burning with pain.

He realized he had fallen into a trap; the two men were clearly in cahoots.

The girl and the gunman flanked them from the left and right, their eyes filled with coldness.

"Handing over the nameplate will save you some suffering."

The man with the gun said calmly, pointing his spear at Fang Song's throat.

Fang Song's expression shifted between light and dark. After a moment, he gritted his teeth, pulled out a bronze plaque from his pocket, and threw it into the mud.

"You guys are ruthless."

The armed man cautiously approached and bent down to pick up the nameplate.

The moment he lowered his head, a fierce glint flashed in Fang Song's eyes!
A flash of cold light appeared, and a blade as thin as a cicada's wing slid out from Fang Song's sleeve, instantly pressing against the girl's throat.

“Don’t move!”

Fang Song, holding the girl hostage, slowly retreated.

"Give me back the nameplate, or I'll slit her throat!"

The man with the gun was stunned, clearly not expecting Fang Song to have this trick up his sleeve.

The girl stood stiff as a stone in Fang Song's arms, feeling the cold blade pressed against her artery.

"You think you can threaten me like this?"

The gunman suddenly laughed, a cruel laugh. (End of Chapter)