Black Wind Body Tempering

Black Wind Valley looked no different from before.

Two sheer black cliffs rose on either side, with deep fissures stretching between them into darkness. The wind flowing from within followed no stable pattern. At times it was nothing more than a cold current brushing past, only to suddenly erupt into a howl like a savage beast breaking free from its cage.

After coming here several times, Hao Nhien had roughly divided the valley into three zones.

The outer area had moderate wind force and was best suited for sensing air currents. The middle zone was stronger, with constantly shifting wind directions, making it useful for training footwork and sword techniques. The deepest section consisted of narrow rock fissures where the Black Wind was compressed between the cliffs before bursting outward with violent pressure. It was no longer suitable for sitting still and comprehending the wind, but it was ideal for tempering the body.

Hao Nhien stood at the entrance to one of the deeper fissures and allowed the black wind to lash against his robes until the fabric snapped loudly around him. Even from outside, the skin on his face had already begun to sting.

He removed his outer robe, revealing faint scars still remaining across his shoulders, chest, and back from previous battles, then took out two jade bottles containing Body-Fortifying Pills and Profound Yang Pills.

Both were high-grade pills refined during the recent process of standardizing the formulas. He still kept the few supreme-grade pills separate and had no intention of consuming them for ordinary training.

After swallowing a Body-Fortifying Pill, Hao Nhien sat down and regulated his breathing for nearly an hour.

The medicinal power did not erupt violently. Instead, it slowly seeped into his muscles, tendons, bones, and the places that had once suffered injuries. His blood and qi began circulating more smoothly, while warmth gradually spread through his joints.

Only after confirming that the medicinal power had stabilized did he stand and enter the fissure without immediately using spiritual power to protect his body.

A blast of Black Wind struck him the moment he took his first step, knocking his body sideways.

Hao Nhien immediately lowered his center of gravity and planted both feet firmly against the stone, but the wind inside the fissure did not simply blow from the front. It struck the cliff walls and rebounded, twisting from left to right, sometimes even surging upward without warning from cracks beneath his feet.

If he tried to resist everything through brute force alone, he knew he would not get very far.

His wind-aligned spiritual power spread lightly around him, not to control the currents, but only to help him sense their changes.

Hao Nhien advanced slowly.

When the wind on his left strengthened, he angled his shoulder, shifted his center of gravity, and allowed a thin stream of air to pass beneath his feet. Each step covered less than half a meter, yet the muscles in his legs, waist, and back had to adjust constantly to keep his balance from collapsing.

After a little more than ten zhang, red marks began appearing across his skin.

The Black Wind was already chaotic, and the dark sand carried within it moved at extremely high speed. Each tiny grain scraped across his body like a fine blade.

Hao Nhien used spiritual power only to protect his eyes, internal organs, and vital meridians. His skin, muscles, and most of his tendons and bones endured the pressure directly.

At twenty zhang, the muscles in his legs began to stiffen, while a dull ache spread through his shoulders.

Every time the wind shifted direction, his entire body had to immediately find a new point of balance.

Hao Nhien took out a small bottle of spirit liquid containing a diluted portion of Profound Yang Pill medicinal power and drank two mouthfuls before continuing deeper.

Warmth spread through his abdomen, driving out some of the cold that had accumulated in his muscles and stabilizing the circulation of his blood and qi.

He passed twenty-five zhang, then twenty-eight.

Just as he reached roughly thirty zhang, a blast of Black Wind from the right suddenly changed direction.

Hao Nhien reacted half a beat too slowly.

His entire body was thrown against the cliff wall, his right shoulder striking the stone hard enough for pain to shoot all the way down his arm.

He pushed himself upright, checked the bone, and only stopped worrying after confirming that nothing was broken, though the shoulder joint had already begun to swell.

“Thirty zhang.”

Hao Nhien committed the position to memory.

That was his limit for the first day.

But he did not immediately leave the fissure.

Instead, he remained where he was, spread his feet wider, lowered his center of gravity, and slowly raised both hands.

The Body-Soul Fist Art had accompanied him since the earliest days of his cultivation. It had followed him through Qi Condensation, countless battles, and eventually into Foundation Establishment.

Precisely because it had become so familiar, Hao Nhien had rarely noticed that most of the times he used the fist art relied on one extremely simple condition.

He could stand firmly.

The first punch had barely been thrown when the Black Wind forced his elbow off line. The power traveling from his feet through his waist was interrupted midway, causing the force of the punch to dissipate almost immediately.

Hao Nhien withdrew his fist and calmly tried again.

This time, when the wind struck his left shoulder, he did not force his body to remain motionless. Instead, he followed the external force and rotated his waist, allowing his rear foot to slide a small distance.

The pressure of the Black Wind was no longer in complete opposition to his fist stance. Instead, it passed through his shoulder, down into his waist, and merged with the motion of the punch.

The resulting fist force struck the cliff wall ahead.

Its power was not greater than before, but Hao Nhien’s feet remained firmly beneath him.

He looked down at them and gradually understood the problem.

The Body-Soul Fist Art did not lack power.

What it lacked was the ability to preserve that power when the foundation beneath him was being disrupted.

In a real fight, no opponent would allow him to calmly establish a perfect stance before throwing a punch. He could be knocked backward, dragged off line, forced away from the ground, or compelled to strike in the middle of changing direction.

If every loss of footing sharply reduced the strength of his attacks, then his application of the fist art was still incomplete.

Hao Nhien began separating three states that had always existed within the technique and testing them individually: stabilizing the body while external force changed continuously, moving without breaking the foundation of his strength, and releasing power even before his body had fully returned to a complete stance.

The Black Wind repeatedly broke his posture.

Hao Nhien repeatedly adjusted.

After more than two hours, his entire body was covered in small scratches. His legs had begun to tremble, his right shoulder throbbed, and even the recovery provided by the Body-Fortifying Pill could no longer keep pace with the accumulating strain.

He stopped immediately and left the fissure.

Body tempering was meant to make the body stronger, not test how much pain one could endure before collapsing.

The moment he left the strongest Black Wind behind, the sudden disappearance of pressure caught his body before it could adapt.

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Hao Nhien staggered two steps.

Tieu Lan, who had been practicing swordsmanship in the outer area, immediately ran over.

“Young Master, you went that deep on your first attempt?”

“I stopped at the right time.”

“And if you had stayed another hour?”

“Then you could scold me.”

Tieu Lan stared at him for a moment and frowned.

“I already want to scold you.”

Hao Nhien laughed and let her wash the black sand from his shoulders and back before carefully applying medicinal liquid to each injured area.

At the same time, he circulated his spiritual power, guiding the remaining medicinal energy into his tendons and bones.

Nearly another two hours passed before the pain gradually subsided.

His cultivation had not increased, nor had his raw strength changed noticeably, but Hao Nhien could clearly feel that the smaller muscle groups responsible for balance around his legs, waist, and shoulders had been stimulated in ways ordinary combat rarely achieved.

He looked toward the deep fissure ahead.

“Tomorrow, I will still stop at thirty zhang.”

Tieu Lan looked surprised.

“First I need to be able to stand steadily there before going any deeper,” Hao Nhien explained.

Going farther had never been the true goal.

What he wanted was control over his body in an environment where the foundation of his strength was constantly being disrupted.

Only then did Tieu Lan’s expression relax slightly.

Over the following days, Hao Nhien continued using the deeper zone to refine his balance and power transmission, while Tieu Lan trained in the outer region, where the wind was strong enough to pressure her without exceeding what a fifth-layer Qi Condensation cultivator could endure.

She did not take pills before every training session.

On ordinary days, recovery liquid, external medicine, and food that replenished blood and qi were enough. Body Strengthening Pills were used only when accumulated strain exceeded what normal recovery could handle, while Qi-Vitality Pills were kept in reserve for times when her spiritual power was overly depleted.

Tieu Lan drew her sword but did not immediately attack.

She stood still in the wind, feeling the currents brush across her hair, sleeves, wrist, and blade.

Each point produced a different sound, and each encountered a different degree of resistance.

When the first gust blew toward the left, she instinctively pushed her strength toward the right to resist it.

Her sword immediately stiffened.

After only a few changes in wind direction, the tip of her blade had been forced off line repeatedly, while her spiritual power was also being consumed at a visible rate.

Hao Nhien watched for a while before speaking.

“Do not try to defeat the wind.”

Tieu Lan lowered her sword.

“If I do not resist it, then what should I do?”

Hao Nhien bent down, picked up a dry leaf, and released it.

The instant it left his fingers, the Black Wind carried it upward. The leaf spun several times, drifted left, then was pushed back by another current before finally falling several zhang away.

“The leaf is not stronger than the wind, but it does not waste strength resisting something it cannot resist. You do not need to control the Black Wind. You only need to sense where it is coming from, avoid the force you do not need to oppose, and make use of the openings it leaves behind.”

Tieu Lan watched the leaf for a long time before returning to her position.

This time, when the wind arrived, her left foot moved back half a step. She tilted her shoulder slightly and lowered the tip of her sword so that the air flowed along the blade.

The moment the strongest force passed, her wrist turned and the sword swept outward.

The movement was still slow, but at least the Black Wind no longer forced the entire strike off line.

Over the next several days, she improved little by little.

At first, she could maintain her stance for less than an hour. Later, she gradually learned to move continuously without losing balance, and the sword began to follow the currents rather than constantly oppose them.

When she tried integrating Cloud-Wind Steps into the Black Wind, she failed more often than she succeeded.

Once, she borrowed the wind correctly and shot forward with impressive speed, only for the current to abruptly change direction on her third step.

Her entire body lost balance and crashed into the sand.

Hao Nhien had just started toward her when she planted her sword into the ground and pushed herself upright.

“I will try again.”

Only when both knees were covered in bruises did Tieu Lan finally agree to stop.

That evening, she sat beside the fire rubbing her knees.

“Young Master, when you first practiced Cloud-Wind Steps, did you fall this many times too?”

Hao Nhien nodded solemnly.

“More.”

Tieu Lan stared at him for several breaths, then narrowed her eyes.

“Young Master is lying.”

Hao Nhien laughed.

“That is progress. Not only has your footwork improved, you have also learned to doubt me.”

Tieu Lan gave a soft snort, though the corners of her lips still curved upward.

The two gradually settled into a stable training rhythm.

In the mornings, Hao Nhien entered the deep fissure to temper his body and refine the Body-Soul Fist Art, while Tieu Lan practiced sensing the Black Wind in the outer zone.

At noon, both rested, checked their injuries, and recorded what had gone wrong.

In the afternoons, Hao Nhien guided her sword practice and Cloud-Wind Steps, while Tieu Lan prepared recovery liquids, external medicines, and adjusted the amount of medicinal support he used.

Once every three days, the communication jade token lit up.

Quan Khai sent only very brief summaries.

On the third day, household registration for the central district had begun. There was no emergency.

On the sixth day, a water dispute had been passed down for local resolution. Two new tribes had requested surveys for residential land, and Hao Nhien did not need to return.

On the ninth day, Hoa Van Treasure Pavilion proposed expanding its warehouse ahead of schedule, and the council approved the additional land.

By the twelfth day, the new merit ledger was operating steadily, military affairs were normal, and there was nothing requiring the Clan Chief’s decision.

Each time, Hao Nhien replied with only a few words before returning to training.

At first, he was still slightly unaccustomed to it.

But the fourth time he read the phrase, “There is nothing requiring your decision,” he smiled.

Hoa Van had not stalled simply because he was absent.

That mattered far more than having every decision pass through his hands.

Hao Nhien also did not force himself to advance deeper every day.

Only after a full week, when his body had clearly adapted to maintaining and shifting its foundation beneath the pressure of the Black Wind, did he take out the Fire Spirit Sword.

The dark-red blade slid free, and faint fire energy immediately spread around it.

Hao Nhien stood a little beyond thirty zhang, but instead of attacking immediately, he simply held the sword and felt the connection between his feet, waist, shoulders, and wrist.

After several days of body tempering, the sensation was completely different from before.

He no longer needed to force his body to follow the technique through spiritual power and sword momentum. The movement of his entire body had become more connected, making the sword feel like a natural extension of himself.

Hao Nhien began with Sword Thrust.

There were no sword flowers and no complicated changes, only a single straight line.

The tip of the Fire Spirit Sword tore through the wind, but after the very first attempt, Hao Nhien immediately withdrew the blade because he could still feel too many unnecessary movements.

He continued practicing, not by making the technique more complicated, but by gradually stripping away everything that was not needed.

If his shoulder rose too much, he lowered it. If his wrist turned too early, he delayed the rotation. If his step extended farther than necessary, he shortened it.

Even the moment spiritual power entered the blade was pushed later, reducing resistance before the tip of the sword exploded forward.

The Black Wind continued striking him from changing directions, but Hao Nhien neither controlled nor suppressed the currents.

He simply adjusted his body to avoid unnecessary opposition, reducing the force he had to overcome.

The more he practiced, the simpler Sword Thrust became, yet the faster it grew.

By the end of the ninth day, when Hao Nhien thrust again, the tip of the Fire Spirit Sword left only a thin red line through the air, while the sound of torn wind seemed to arrive almost behind it.

At last, he understood exactly what he wanted from the technique.

Sword Thrust did not need a wide range or overwhelming spectacle.

Its value lay in moving half a beat faster than the opponent and concentrating all of its power into the smallest possible point.

As speed and concentration increased together, its penetrating force naturally became far more terrifying.

After that, Hao Nhien moved on to Sword Slash.

If Sword Thrust was built around speed and concentration, Sword Slash required force and momentum.

In the past, he had always needed a very brief interval to stabilize his footing, rotate his waist, open his shoulder, and only then pour fire-aligned spiritual power into the sword.

The resulting strike was powerful enough to break defenses, but in real combat, even a moment of preparation could become an opening.

The Black Wind made that weakness even more obvious.

If he tried to maintain a complete stance inside the chaotic currents, the attack only became slower.

So Hao Nhien began training himself to release power while his body was still moving.

When the wind struck from the right, he did not force his shoulder to remain fixed. Instead, he followed the external pressure, rotated his waist, and shifted his left foot half a step.

The wind striking his back did not become his own power, but because his body did not directly oppose it, the transition became faster and consumed less strength.

The Fire Spirit Sword cut down into a black rock ahead, leaving a deep crack.

Hao Nhien studied it briefly before continuing.

He was not merely trying to make the slash stronger.

What he wanted was to shorten the interval between deciding to strike and the moment the blade already carried enough force to break through a defense.

After several more days of adjustment, he began changing the way he used fire-aligned spiritual power as well.

Instead of allowing flames to flare around the entire sword, Hao Nhien compressed the fire energy into a thinner layer clinging closely to the edge, concentrating heat and sword force only where they were needed.

A thin streak of fire passed through a black stone.

The rock split cleanly in two.

Unlike before, the cut did not crumble around the edges. It was smoother and deeper.

Hao Nhien stepped forward and ran his fingers along the mark.

His earlier Sword Slash had focused on breaking defenses through force.

That power had not disappeared, but it had become more concentrated.

The technique was no longer merely capable of smashing through a defense. It had begun to cut through the point bearing that defense.

By the fourteenth day, Hao Nhien could remain close to forty zhang within the Black Wind.

His shoulders, back, waist, and legs were all clearly exhausted, but his ability to maintain his stance and transfer force had changed dramatically from the first day.

A blast of Black Wind struck directly toward him.

Hao Nhien stepped diagonally aside from the main force while thrusting the Fire Spirit Sword at the same time.

A point of firelight pierced through the current and struck the distant cliff wall, leaving behind a small but deep hole.

He did not fully withdraw the sword.

Instead, he followed the remaining momentum, rotated his body, shifted the position of his rear foot, and slashed horizontally.

The red blade passed through the exact point that had just been pierced.

The rock immediately broke apart along the weakened section.

Fragments fell between the howls of the Black Wind.

Hao Nhien stood still and looked at the Fire Spirit Sword in his hand.

He had not learned a new sword art.

His cultivation had not changed either.

But if the version of himself from fourteen days earlier were standing across from him now, that first strike would already be much harder to evade.

And the second...

He might not even have enough time to block it.