Elderly Martial Saint: Sixty Times the Cultivation Speed ​​at the Start

Back in the backyard of the Sky Patrol Office, Yi Yang walked into his residence and paused for two steps at the door.

Xu Pei followed behind, but before he could ask if he needed any arrangements, Yi Yang had already turned around.

"Patrols will proceed as usual tonight, but without my order, no one is allowed to approach within thirty feet of my room."

Xu Pei was taken aback for a moment, and wanted to ask for a reason.

Yi Yang added, "I need to practice my skills, which might make a lot of noise. I don't want people to misunderstand and think I'm a thief."

Xu Pei said "Oh". Although he was full of questions, he still vividly remembered the scene of Yi Yang smashing Zheng Haitao's head with a single palm tonight. He had no doubts about the newly appointed director.

"Understood, I will make the arrangements immediately."

After Xu Pei left, the courtyard became quiet.

Yi Yang closed the door and bolted it, then checked the window frame again to make sure there were no gaps before walking to the table and sitting down.

He took out a yellowed silk scroll from a hidden pocket inside his body.

The golden-haired ape depicted on the cover, sitting cross-legged, appears exceptionally serene under the lamplight.

"The Mind Monkey's Guide to Guarding the Mind"

A martial art technique that no one has mastered for thirteen years.

Yi Yang opened the silk scroll and jumped directly to the cultivation methods in the "Quiet Image" chapter.

He had already read through the outline twice and knew the general direction. But tonight was the first time he would actually practice on the field.

It is clearly written on the silk scroll—

The practitioner sits cross-legged, concentrating their mind on the spiritual platform between their eyebrows. This is the abode of the spirit, the foundation of cultivation. Visualize a divine ape perched within the spiritual platform, its body radiating golden light, like a guardian deity or a celestial guardian.

In the initial stages of cultivation, illusions will inevitably arise. One may see a blissful realm of heavenly maidens, or the terror of being devoured by demons and evil spirits; one may hear one's ancestors calling one back, or feel one's body rotting, piles of white bones, a hundred ghosts roaming at night, and weeping and wailing. All these illusions are manifestations of the inner demons and external evils arising from the six desires and five aggregates.

The mantra for cultivation: The divine ape sits in the void, its wise eyes piercing through all phenomena. Ignore everything else, firmly guarding my original intention.

Yi Yang silently recited the mantra three times, engraving it into his mind.

Without hesitation, he closed the silk scroll and placed it aside, then sat down cross-legged on the spot, placed his hands on his knees, and slowly closed his eyes.

Slow down your breathing a little.

The thought sinks into the space between the eyebrows.

Yi Yang tried to visualize the golden-haired divine ape in his mind, but at first, nothing appeared—just a dark void. He wasn't in a hurry and continued to visualize. The ape's outline slowly emerged, blurry, like a reflection on water.

Then the panel moved.

[The Mind-Bound Stillness Technique: An Introduction to Stillness and Imagery (60/6000)]

Progress has been made.

60 points.

Yi Yang's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately suppressed the fluctuation.

The fact that progress can be made means that destiny has recognized this technique. What those deputy chief inspectors and patrol directors cannot master, does not exist in his hands.

The only problem is that the progress is too slow.

With the blessing of sixty times the destiny, I only got 60 points in my first cultivation. With a total of 6000 points, it would take a long time to get even a basic level at this pace.

Moreover, this is a mental cultivation technique, and it cannot use precious pills to restore physical functions and accelerate the cultivation progress.

Unless Yi Yang possesses some kind of spiritual cultivation elixir or elixir, but unfortunately, such things are extremely precious and priceless no matter where they are.

But Yi Yang remained calm.

The only way to make great progress is to cultivate oneself. With diligent study and practice, one can definitely get started, although it will take a long time.

Yi Yang exhaled a long breath and continued to cultivate with his eyes closed.

The process of focusing my mind on my brow was smoother than the first time.

The panel is jumping around.

120

180

……

At the same moment, a shadowy figure lurked in the darkness outside the walls of the Sky Patrol Bureau.

The boy lay curled up in a crack in the wall, his joints cracking, his entire frame seemingly able to be flattened at will, as he squeezed through a crack less than half a foot wide. He landed almost without a sound.

Following a faint aura, it evaded the patrolling guards and made its way to the detached little house in the backyard.

The light from the oil lamp in the room shone through the cracks in the window paper, flickering on and off.

It lay patiently at the base of the wall, waiting.

This wait lasted for more than an hour.

……

It was past midnight, and the oil lamp had long since run out of oil, leaving the room completely dark.

Yi Yang opened his eyes, got up, and stretched his stiff neck, intending to continue his second round of cultivation—

In his perception, there was an extremely faint aura outside him.

Yi Yang's movements remained unchanged; he was still slowly turning his neck. But all five senses were fully activated, like an old wolf with its ears pricked up in the dark.

That aura was unusually weak.

It's not that they're weak; it's that they're deliberately suppressing each other.

A normal martial artist's aura fluctuates somewhat when walking, but this aura was unnaturally smooth, as if it had been concealed by some special means.

Six levels of Qi and Blood?

No, the opponent's strength is definitely beyond this level.

Moreover, in Yi Yang's perception, the figure was sometimes thick and sometimes thin, as if it had been compressed.

This reminded Yi Yang of a word—shrinking bones.

The external environment shrinks the entire body size by one size, causing the joints to be misaligned and compressed, which is why it appears sometimes thick and sometimes thin in one's perception.

This guy has practiced some kind of evil kung fu!

The enemy avoided the patrol routes, calculating the corners and shift changes with great precision, and headed straight for Yi Yang's residence.

Yi Yang kept quiet.

He blew out the oil lamp, groped his way to the window, and squatted down under the windowsill. Leaning against the wall, he silently gripped the tiger-roar lamp leaning against the base of the wall with his right hand.

The aura was getting closer and closer.

Thirty zhang (approximately 33 meters).

Twenty zhang (approximately 33 meters).

Ten zhang (approximately 33 meters).

Stopped.

About two zhang outside the door, the aura paused for five or six breaths, as if it stopped after confirming the movement inside the room.

This allowed Yi Yang to control his breathing and circulate the "Concealed Breath Formless Technique" to ensure he made no sound.

………………

The shadow that had been waiting outside the window for so long finally moved. It went around to the window, its fingertips gripped the window frame, and with a gentle pry, the latch popped open.

Its body squeezed in through the window, making almost no sound, and pounced straight at the bed, its five fingers like hooks, heading straight for the bundle of blankets on the bed.

The moment its claws tore through the bedding, it froze.

The bed is empty.

It suddenly turned around.

Just then, Yi Yang, who had been hiding well, made his move.

He suddenly sprang up from below the window, his right fist, imbued with powerful internal energy, aimed straight for the back of the shadowy figure's head.

With a full-force strike of triple internal energy, the fist's wind was compressed into an invisible column of air within a half-foot distance.

The punch landed squarely on the shadowy figure's back.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud.

Yi Yang felt a strange sensation on his fist, not the crispness of shattered flesh and bone, but rather like hitting a thick, tough layer of skin.

The other person's body was extremely flexible, and he deflected 30% of his force back.

The dark figure was blasted forward and staggered two steps, but did not fall.

It turned around after being attacked.

Moonlight slanted in through the cracks in the broken window, falling on that face.

Upon seeing the other person's appearance, Yi Yang's pupils immediately contracted.

Because that's not a human face.

To be precise, the facial features still revealed the outline of a person, but the entire face was covered with a dense layer of short white hair.

The other party was covered with half-foot-long white hair, its limbs were disproportionately twisted, and its fingernails were long and sharp, with a bluish-gray sheen.

His head slumped on his shoulders, his facial features were squeezed together, and when he opened his mouth, he revealed two rows of uneven, yellow teeth.

The few strands of white hair recorded in the file are exactly the same as those on this thing, so they must have been left by it.

The murderer who killed former patrol director Su Chengan.

This is it.

Yi Yang's mind was racing, but his hands didn't stop.

He took a half step back to create some distance, and casually grabbed Tiger Roar's Blade from the wall and drew it from its sheath.

He twirled the 72-pound black fire iron in his hand, lowered the blade, and assumed the starting stance of the Nine Peaks Blade.

The white-haired monster showed no further intention of launching a sneak attack. It stood still with its neck tucked in, its vertical pupils fixed on Yi Yang, and a low, gurgling sound emanated from its throat.

The next moment, it moved.

The speed is ridiculously fast.

The body covered in white fur was like a crossbow bolt, its outstretched claws aimed straight for Yi Yang's throat.

Yi Yang dodged to the side, and the tiger roared as it slashed horizontally.

The blade struck the white-haired monster's forearm—"Clang!"

The clang of metal rang out.

The 72-pound black iron heavy sword struck the opponent's arm, but it only cut in less than half an inch before getting stuck.

The skin beneath the white fur was unusually hard; the blade, infused with internal energy, seemed to have cleaved through a piece of ironwood.

Yi Yang's brow twitched.

The monster roared in pain, and swung its other claw across.

Yi Yang sheathed his sword to parry, but was pushed back three steps by the brute force, cracking the blue bricks beneath his feet.

Its power is no weaker than that of the third level of internal energy.

Moreover, the body's defensive toughness is ridiculously high.

Yi Yang retreated to the corner, but the monster caught up. The cramped room offered limited space to maneuver, and tables, chairs, and benches shattered during their struggle.

The monster's attack methods were very primitive: grabbing, pouncing, and tearing. It had no fighting style, relying entirely on brute force and speed. However, the white fur covering its body significantly reduced the advantage of Yi Yang's swordsmanship.

Despite being slashed three times, the deepest wound left less than an inch long and was healing at a visible speed.

This thing has self-healing abilities.

A judgment flashed through Yi Yang's mind.

This thing is neither human nor beast, it's disgusting.

He stopped testing the waters, changed his movements, lightly touched the broken wooden planks with his toes, and flashed behind the monster, his entire body pressed against the ceiling.

The tiger roared and flipped, the blade tip pointing downwards, as the fifth move of the Nine Peaks Blade, "Strange Peak," cleaved down from above.

A full-force attack.

The blade struck the monster at the junction of its shoulder and neck, cutting two inches deep.

The white-haired monster let out a tearing howl of pain, its claws flailing wildly backward. One claw grazed Yi Yang's left rib, the sharp tip leaving three white marks on the surface of the black iron armor.

If it weren't for the soft armor, it could have torn the ribs out along with the flesh and bone.

Yi Yang used the momentum to bounce away and landed on the other side of the room.

He took a couple of breaths and his gaze fell on Tiger Roar's blade, which was slightly chipped.

Chopping this thing is about the same as chopping a lump of iron.

The monster's shoulder wound was raw and bloody, its white fur stained dark red, but its movements were not slowed down at all.

Those vertical pupils held only the most primal killing intent, and thick saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth as he roared and pounced again.

Yi Yang is not backing down.

He sank his feet and activated the "Crossing the River with Water" movement technique at its peak, transforming into a gray shadow.

The monster missed its target, its head smashing through half the wall, sending brick fragments flying.

Yi Yang appeared to its side, unleashing a tiger-like roar and slashing three times, each strike landing in the same spot—its left rib.

The first cut penetrates one inch.

The second cut deepened the first wound by three inches.

The third cut touched the ribs.

The monster howled and swung its claws. Yi Yang blocked it with his forearm. The soft armor absorbed the force, but his entire arm was numb from the impact.

This is not a solution.

Sharpening it one cut at a time is too slow, and this thing heals too quickly; the wounds from the previous cuts have already started to scab over.

It was a fatal blow.

Yi Yang retreated to a corner of the room, holding the Tiger Roar horizontally in front of him. His breathing became deep, sinking to his dantian.

The internal strength of the five internal organs is cultivated to perfection.

The essence of this technique lies in refining internal energy through special meridian routes of the five internal organs and six bowels, condensing it into "refined strength" with a density far exceeding that of ordinary internal energy.

Yi Yang closed his eyes for a moment.

When he opened his eyes again, all the internal energy in his body began to circulate in an unusual way.

The Qi Sea surged.

The internal energy surges out from the dantian, not following the usual route of perfusion to the limbs and bones, but first entering the heart, then passing through the liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys, going through all five internal organs in turn.

With each impurity he passed, the color of his internal energy deepened and its texture became heavier in his inner vision.

After all five internal organs had been circulated, the internal energy had condensed to a terrifying degree.

Yi Yang channeled this energy into Tiger Roar through his right arm.

The seventy-two-pound black iron blade began to tremble, emitting a low hum. A layer of visible vapor film, like flowing mercury, faintly appeared on the blade's surface.

The white-haired monster sensed danger.

Its vertical pupils suddenly contracted, and its body arched backward, as if preparing to flee.

Yi Yang didn't give it a chance.

The act of crossing the river by skimming the water was pushed to its extreme.

His figure vanished from the spot and reappeared directly in front of the monster the next instant.

Nine Peaks Saber, Ninth Form.

Absolute peak.

With this strike, he poured seventy percent of his internal energy into the blade, focusing all the terrifying refined energy he had cultivated through two rounds of internal energy refinement on the three-inch tip of the blade.

The knife came down from above his head.

The white-haired monster blocked with its claws crossed.

Two forearms blocked the blade.

Useless.

The tiger's roar, carrying a layer of mercury-like vapor, pierced through the white-haired monster's arms as easily as cutting tofu. Its two forearms, covered in white fur, were cleanly severed at the elbows, tumbling and flying through the air.

The sword's momentum remained undiminished.

A straight cutting line runs from the top of the head to the crotch.

The white-haired monster's body split open along that line, with the two halves falling to either side.

No blood mist gushed out from the cut surface; instead, a dark purple, viscous liquid slowly seeped out, emitting a pungent, fishy stench.

The two halves of the corpse fell to the ground. The white-haired man twitched slightly twice, then remained still.

Yi Yang sheathed his sword and took two steps back.

His right arm was trembling. It wasn't from exhaustion; it was a normal feedback from his meridians after he had fully activated the internal energy cultivation technique.

Seventy percent of the Qi Sea has been consumed.

But it was worth it.

Yi Yang crouched down and examined the monster's corpse by the moonlight.

The muscle texture at the cut surface is different from that of humans; it's denser and the fibers are coarser. There's a grayish-white hard membrane under the skin, which is why he couldn't cut it before.

He flipped open the monster's left hand—or rather, its severed limb.

On the inside of my wrist, in a sparse area of ​​white hair, there is a faint brand mark.

The symbol of the Nine Heretical Cults.

really.

Yi Yang stood up, shook off the sticky substance from the tiger's roar, and sheathed it.

He stared at the mess in the room and the body that had been split in two, with only one thing on his mind.

Is this thing targeting him, or was it originally lurking in White Fish City, specifically hunting down the Director of the Sky Patrol Bureau?

If it's the latter, then the person behind this thing—

Was it the Nine Evil Sect leader that Yan Wuyuan asked him to investigate?

Yi Yang walked to the broken window, his gaze passing over the courtyard wall and landing in the direction of the east of the city.