The Divine Martial Stars

Chapter 407 The Blood Sea Is Coming

In the next few days, Lord Virtuous the Eighth tried more than once to find time to talk with Li Mu and convey the goodwill of the emperor of the Northern Song. However, Li Mu had always stayed in closed-door training and never stepped out once. Thus, there was little he could do about it. Occasionally, Lord Virtuous the Eighth mentioned the matter to Wang Shiyu as off-hand as he could be. When Ming Yue, Qing Feng, and Yuan Hou were around, he did his best to show his kindness, for he had decided to influence the people around Li Mu first.

With news from all parts of the empire delivered to his mansion nonstop, Lord Virtuous the Eighth became a busy man again.

The circumstances were still rather dismal for the royal family of the Northern Song.

Although Lord Jin’s territories, armies, and forces already fell apart after his death, the royal family of the Northern Song who was on the high moral ground failed to put up Lord Jin’s league in its own pocket. Instead, the royals let some of the rebellious lords took the opportunity to expand their forces, especially Lord Yi, Zhao Chong. He had taken over almost the whole Glory Army, which considerably increased his power. By the time, he was already harder to tackle than Lord Jin.

In the meantime, commotions had been breaking out across the Northern Song quite frequently.

The empire’s development did not take an upturn after Lord Jin was killed. On the contrary, it was like a severely-ill old man slipping toward the abyss. The whole country was wounded and full of problems, which perturbed the emperor and the ministers bigtime, causing them to get into a flap almost every day.

Lord Virtuous the Eighth began to frequently commute from his own place to the imperial palace. He was swamped.

Dark clouds were looming the empire that had survived more than a thousand years.

As to the old protective Holy Clan of the Northern Song, the civil strife in Mount Qingcheng had been oppressed. Taoist Dao Ling’s entitlement to the position as their leader was already settled. Yet, the new parvenu in the martial arts society seemed quite aloof toward the royal family of the Northern Song. The emperor had sent dozens of envoys to visit him, telling him that the emperor hoped to offer him some benefits in exchange of Mount Qingcheng’s support. But the matter was still in negotiation. The terms the Holy Clan gave became harsher and harsher. That provoked the emperor, but he could do nothing about it anyway.

The cracked relationship with the Holy Clan disheartened the royals even more when they faced those rebellious lords.

Swaying in the storm, the would-be last royals of the empire felt rather desolate.

Exactly for that reason, Lord Virtuous the Eighth was more and more eager to keep Li Mu in the Northern Song.

After all, when Lord Jin was in his full swing, it was Li Mu who made him disappeared from that world, wasn’t it?

The rest of the rebellious were no better than Lord Jin. To Li Mu, killing them was as easy as killing chickens. Once Li Mu was willing to work for, no, cooperate with the royal family of the Northern Song, their status would instantly be infrangible like the mountains.

…

In the secret chamber that had been reinforced by seals and deployments, Li Mu was practicing the Zhenwu Boxing.

Having entered the third tier of the Xiantian Skill, Li Mu’s body had been profusely nurtured and restored. That meant he could have a go at the fifth style of the Zhenwu Boxing—the Endless Waves.

Li Mu had tried it several times before.

But every time he proceeded to the middle part, his body was too drained to continue. Even when Li Mu later completely mastered the Grasping the Bird’s Tail, he still did not get a hang of the fifth style.

Now, Li Mu still felt a little strained when performing that style.

He was in a weird standing posture, moving at a snail’s pace. On his naked skin beads of blood started breaking. Parts of his muscles were torn apart. Even his bones began to crack.

Practicing the Zhenwu Boxing required a freaking strong body. Although the styles seemed to be ordinary, the load that the art imposed on the practitioner’s body was unbelievably heavy.

Back on Earth, Li Mu used to perform the 18 styles of the Zhenwu Boxing without difficulty, as though he was just doing a set of warming-up exercises. But once he grasped the fundamentals of the art, he felt that odd sense of overload, which puzzled him all along.

So far, as Li Mu had entered the third tier of the Xiantian Skill, he opted to forcefully proceed to that style.

Because the old faker had told him that the first four styles of the Zhenwu Boxing were merely devised to lay the groundwork, and the real immortals’ boxing method started from the fifth style. That was to say the fifth style was a huge leap away from the first four. Also, those days, Li Mu had sensed that the killing intent in that world was getting steadily richer.

When heaven started to produce killing intent, the stars would be displaced; when the earth started to produce killing intent, the dragons and serpents would be restless; when men started to produce the killing intent, the world would be turned upside down.

By then, on that planet, men already produced a large amount of killing intent—Sages were killed one after another, and the Nine Superbs had lost more than half. The old rules of the martial arts society would soon be gone. In that case, even Sages would no longer be the symbol of invincibility and imperishability.

What would come next was “the earth producing killing intent”.

When that time came, the situation would be more dreadful.

Li Mu had a foreboding that he would be in big trouble if he did not level up his strength as soon as possible.

Therefore, he hoped to accomplish the immortals’ boxing method.

The fifth style of the Zhenwu Boxing—the Endless Waves—was the new trump card Li Mu desired.

Finally, after two whole hours, Li Mu basically completed the style—Endless Waves. The result of his forceful practice was that his skin was flayed open and his flesh was torn. Countless bones had cracked, too. The pain he suffered from the practice was beyond description.

Fortunately, Li Mu had gotten used to pain.

Maintaining that same standing posture, he ran his Xiantian Skill to cure his injuries.

After around twenty minutes, he was fully recovered.

Then, he repeated the process.

His body was torn and cured over and over again.

The whole process was like steel-making. Only by repeated quenching, striking, soaking, and smelting could the fine steel be forged. The body enhancement was just like steel-making. Progress could only be made through repeated practice.

Originally, Li Mu’s physical strength and endurance were already incredible. Generally, weapons, Cultivation Methods, and powers could hardly hurt his body. He could only be injured when he fought against a strong man like Yingshan Snow-eagle, the Emperor’s Broadsword. Therefore, it had become quite difficult to strengthen his body further. But the Zhenwu Boxing had just made up for that deficiency so that Li Mu’s physical strength had the possibility of further improvement.

After days or so, Li Mu started to feel that his performance of the Endless Waves had become more and more proficient. The jerky feeling he had at the beginning had disappeared. And the searing pain during the practice had gradually receded, too.

He knew he would soon master the style of the real immortals’ boxing.

…

…

“This is the thing you refined?”

Staring at a pair of fine white boots, Ming Yue wondered what material they were made of. The boots did look great. And streaks of deployment patterns were swirling around them, which contained the power of the Taoist magic arts Li Mu had taught Qing Feng.

“Yeah,” Qing Feng nodded and said, “they are made of the ore of meteorites. Don’t be barefoot again.”

Beaming, Ming Yue put on the white boots and found them quite fitting. The boots were very comfortable. Wearing them was like wearing two pieces of silk, for they were almost weightless. Ming Yue could not believe they were forged with ore.

“And here comes the outfit…” Qing Feng fished out a long white dress with cyan embroideries. “This dress contains a tactical deployment. When you refine it with your spiritual force, you can alter the size as you want. This is just a trial object.”

“It looks great, haha! But those who study alchemy usually make swords and armors. How come you came up with the idea of making clothes and shoes?” Ming Yue teased, smirking.

“Fighting and killing should not be everything in life.” Qing Feng smiled. “I just hope my friends can all have a life instead of engaging themselves in violence.”

Without further ado, Ming Yue refined the dress with her spiritual force. After that, with a stir of her mind, she instantly fitted into that dress. It felt good and could enhance her defense power. Although given Ming Yue’s current strength the extra defense was not a big deal, she still cherished the dress because Qing Feng had spent a long time refining it.

“If we don’t keep fighting, we can’t have a chance to live.” Ming Yue corrected. “Young Master has told us, the carefree life we have should never be taken for granted, because it only existed when someone is hauling all the burdens for us.”

Qing Feng nodded in agreement and added, “The one hauling all the burdens for us is Young Master himself. All I can do is take care of the little daily troubles Young Master might have in the carefree days.”

Ming Yue stroked her chin while pondering over his words. Then, her big eyes dark as black crystals revealed a trace of smile, and she flattered. “Anyway, Brother Qing Feng, as you are so smart, anything you said is correct.”

“You just called Brother Qing Feng?” The boy’s eyes widened in surprise.

Ming Yue nodded. Her smiley eyes narrowed like two crescents as she said, “Yes, I did.”

Qing Feng felt an urge to ask why she suddenly called him brother, for she had always addressed him as “stinky boy” and herself as his older sister. “If someone flatters you without any reason, he or she must be up to no good.” However, Qing Feng restrained himself from blurting his thoughts out.

“It’s great.” Qing Feng’s lips cocked up into a nice curve.

He was, as a matter of fact, a good-looking young man.

Having reunited with Ming Yue after more than a year’s separation, Qing Feng had a vague feeling that Ming Yue had changed. Even though she still had her dorky side, some things and people obviously became more important to her. Or to put it in other words, she had learned to cherish.

“There are still some projects not finished yet. I shall continue to work on them.” With that, Qing Feng returned to his laboratory.

Ming Yue wanted to follow him into the laboratory, but she knew she could not help but ask about this and that and fumble with everything once she went in. That would definitely disturb Qing Feng’s alchemy research. And what was worse was she might accidentally trigger a bomb or something… So, after recalling that she already exploded Qing Feng’s two laboratories a few days ago, though Qing Feng never complained, she persuaded herself not to go in.

Ming Yue then sat at the doorsteps in front of the laboratory and whiled away time by counting the ants on the ground. Suddenly, Wang Shiyu sprinted over and said, “Ming Yue, did you see General?”

Ming Yue looked up and pouted. “Call me Grand Master!”

Though she had no bad vibe about Countess, she felt no good vibe about her, either.

Wang Shiyu froze for a second and said, “Well, Grand Master Ming Yue, did you see the Huskie?”

“No,” Ming Yue replied.

“…” Wang Shiyu was speechless.

“That’s odd.”

Two days ago, when Liang Zhi was flung to the air, the Huskie dashed out and had not come back yet. Wang Shiyu had sent people out to look for the dog but had not found a trace of it. Had something happened to General?

She started to get worried.

…

…

“We pay our tributes to Saint.”

In a palace built under a lake in Lin’an, the capital of the Northern Song, blood was spreading. A throng of the disciples of the Bloody-moon Faction was kneeling beside a pool of blood. Bloody-moon Evil Master was the nearest one to the pool of blood, his face distorted with fervent craving.

Grunting…

The blood in the pool was seething like boiling water.

White bones and a skull were surging in the blood.

Eventually, a mysterious force descended. The bones and the skull combined into a skeleton, which then began to suck in the blood in the pool. A moment later, a blurred, mangled figure slowly climbed out of the pool.

Then, the blood in the pool flowed toward him and poured into him. When the blood-red mist dispersed, a scarlet-haired, reddish-skinned heavyset man came into view.

Like a serpent, He stuck out his forked tongue, his eyes reflecting the frosty light of brutality. “After consuming a third of my Primordial Spirit and part of my corporeal body, I finally made it to this world. The secret treasure that man left will be mine. Hahaha…”

The man shot a glance at the disciples of the Bloody-moon Faction kneeling by the pool, then set eyes on Bloody-moon Evil Master and remarked, “You must be the servant who offered to be the sacrifice. Where are Black Smoke and Bloody Eye? Bring them to me.”