Chapter Twelve: The Supreme Dragon-Elephant Body

Money? That’s not an issue. The plan was temporarily set aside; it wasn’t time to implement it yet, but Hu the Second was told to be mentally prepared.

Life on the mountain was simple—after all, they weren’t engaged in production.

Night fell gently, the long moon hanging high. Jiang Ming sipped his tea, pondering matters of cultivation. The Qi Sea stage was simple enough: fill the dantian with true energy while circulating it through the entire body, radiating into the five viscera and six bowels, muscles, bones, and flesh. The body was tempered as it adapted to the true energy, and the practitioner gained increasingly subtle control over its qualities.

Once mobilized, the energy could flow instantly to any part of the body. But it was a slow process.

“The third realm in martial arts, the Astral Qi stage…”

Jiang Ming was already very familiar with what this stage required. When the Qi Sea overflowed and true energy could be used effortlessly, one began to comprehend changes in its nature. Simply put, the goal was to transform the true energy so that it could be condensed into weapons, entwined, used for body armor, and so on.

When the energy’s nature changed, the realm was elevated.

He closed his eyes and began to cultivate.

The medicinal nutrients hidden in the herbal meals rapidly released as he trained, were swiftly absorbed, and greatly accelerated the conversion of true energy.

The next morning, on the mountainside behind the stronghold.

Jiang Ming arrived at this peaceful place to train—soft fists, military boxing, shock fists, yin-yang fists, and the recently learned Stone-cracking Palm and Iron Fist. He practiced them all, especially the seamless transitions between moves and techniques.

With his keen perception and control over his body, after only a few repetitions, it was as though he’d been training for decades.

His movements were as elusive as an antelope’s horns—naturally leaving no trace.

Jiang Ming paused, then shot forward in a low stance, feet treading over wild grass or darting among branches, agile as a monkey, faster than a bird in flight.

In a blink, he stopped and drew the long blade from his back.

This was a saber he’d chosen specially, black and sharp, with a gaudy name: Black Blade.

A hum filled the air—

He unleashed the Ninefold Thunder Slash. It was as if thunder crashed down—violent, fierce, each strike filled with overwhelming, domineering intent.

As the blade swung, true energy surged forth and shot out a blade aura over ten meters long, splitting the rock ahead in two.

That was the Ninth Slash of Furious Thunder.

“Not far from forty meters of blade aura now!”

It wasn’t impossible, just a matter of not yet having complete mastery over his true energy.

As the saber technique unfolded, slicing through the air, true energy ran rampant.

In the end, the true energy merely coated the blade, a shimmering aura an inch long—highly condensed, far deadlier.

Jiang Ming’s life was as tranquil as still water.

The Origin Sutra was his daily practice, morning, noon, and night, supplemented by drills and tempering his true energy.

The rest of his time was spent wandering the mountain, conversing with different people, learning about the situation here in detail, and gathering information about the outside world.

He no longer flaunted his strength, but appeared gentle and approachable. His youthful, scholarly looks earned people’s favor, but also drew the ire and provocation of some of the more unruly bandits.

He was unconcerned.

Half a month passed in the blink of an eye.

“Chief, I’m a little nervous!” In the small courtyard, Hu the Third was rather excited.

He’d already sent out the invitations for the new chief’s celebration, inviting the others to witness the ceremony; all had replied that they’d come today.

“What you should be nervous about,” Jiang Ming laughed, “is how you’ll take over the three strongholds with ease after I’ve wiped them all out.”

Nervous?

A little, perhaps.

“I have several plans already, Chief, don’t worry, we’ll take them with ease!” Hu the Second’s face shone with hope and excitement for the grand task ahead.

Down the mountain.

Three groups of men gathered.

Each group had a dozen or so, exuding murderous intent and thick with the scent of blood—clearly not men to be trifled with.

They were the leaders and elite members of Black Dragon Stronghold, Black Blade Stronghold, and Black Tiger Stronghold.

“That old Ma actually got beaten to death, his son died too, their stronghold stolen—what a miserable fate. When I heard, I drank three jugs of wine and laughed for a quarter-hour.”

“Haha, same here! That bastard was ruthless, never gave me any face, but now he’s dead—serves him right. I hear the new chief’s an outsider. Is he some dragon crossing the river?”

“He must be. Otherwise, how would he dare invite all three of us up the mountain at once? That’s not just bold, that’s insane. Hmph, a dragon crossing the river? He’ll have to coil up for me. Gentlemen, this is a most delicious feast—are you interested?”

“We all came together, didn’t we? Of course we want a taste.”

“What if it’s a trap on the mountain?”

“A trap? Black Tiger, you old fox, always so cautious. We’ve all brought our elites. Even if it’s a trap, we can flatten Black Wind Stronghold. Let’s go!”

“Let’s go!”

“Once Black Wind Stronghold is leveled, I’m going to sleep with Ma Guang’s woman. Even if he’s in hell, I’ll put a green hat on him.”

“Count me in!”

“And me!”

A group of dozens climbed the mountain, unimpeded.

They swaggered right up to the Hall of Loyalty.

“No banquet, but there’s a large force surrounding us,” said the chief of Black Dragon Stronghold with a chilling sneer, eyeing Jiang Ming. “So you’re the brat who became chief? Planning to wipe us all out? I’ve seen arrogance, but never anyone as wild as you. Think you’re a mighty dragon crossing the river? You’re just a little snake. Gentlemen, in a moment I’ll twist off his head myself, boil it up, and make a chamber pot from his skull. I’ll piss into his brain every day, so next life, he’ll have more of my wisdom.”

Jiang Ming’s face darkened, but he didn’t rush to act.

He glanced at Hu the Second.

Though he knew his chief was terrifyingly strong and their men had surrounded the others, Hu the Second couldn’t help being nervous. After all, the three chiefs before him were renowned for their ruthlessness.

Hu the Second swallowed, feigning calm as he puffed out his chest and pointed out a few men.

“Very well!” Jiang Ming noted several individuals, then drew the Black Blade from his back. “I’ll give you a chance to live—kneel and swear allegiance!”

“Swear to your mother!” roared the chief of Black Dragon Stronghold, hot-tempered and glaring as he strode forward, drawing his mountain-chopping saber. “You brat, trying to show off in front of me? I’ve decided—I’ll break your limbs, toss you in the boar pen and let them have their way with you. No, a herd of donkeys instead.”

“You’re vicious!” Jiang Ming sucked in a cold breath, involuntarily giving a thumbs-up, then said coldly, “Swearing allegiance is only to humiliate you! Since you insist on polluting my ears, then die!”

Ninefold Thunder Slash.

Die!

Jiang Ming stepped forward and brought the Black Blade down.

“You really dare make a move? For that, I respect you!” sneered the chief of Black Blade Stronghold. “I’ve roamed hundreds of miles undefeated—today, you’ll see my skills.”

But as he felt the terror of Jiang Ming’s strike, his face changed drastically.

That strike filled him with dread.

His mountain-chopping saber shifted into a defensive stance.

Clang—

In the very next instant, his face was frozen in shock.

An overwhelming force surged through him—before he could react, his saber was split in two.

“True energy flowing on his blade? He’s a prodigy!”

The thought barely flashed through his mind before the blade’s light filled his vision, then everything went black—he was swallowed by despair.

The chief of Black Dragon Stronghold, man and blade together, was cleaved in half.

The others were stunned.

This chief’s strength was truly exceptional—already at the pinnacle of the second tier, just a step from the first.

And he was killed just like that?

Jiang Ming gave them no time to think—he charged in.

His speed was peerless, his blade a flash, the slaughter one-sided.

Not even the others had to lift a finger; they simply surrounded the area to prevent escapes.

Very soon, only six men remained, quaking in terror; everyone else had been killed.

“Mighty Chief!” Hu the Second was the first to recover, pressing down his shock and elation, raising his fist and shouting.

“Mighty Chief!” The others were wild with admiration, echoing the cheer.

“Mighty Chief!”

The shout shook the heavens, echoing through the mountains.

Jiang Ming pressed his hand down, and the shouting ceased instantly.

He forced down his unease, his gaze sharp as a blade as he looked at the six survivors. “Do you know why you’re still alive?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. “Because you’ve killed less than the others and still have a chance at redemption. That’s why I spared you.”

“Will you pledge allegiance, or die?”

Jiang Ming spun his blade, the aura flickering menacingly, making it clear to all—he was a master of innate strength.

“All hail the Chief! My life is yours from now on!” They didn’t hesitate—each knelt in turn.

For mountain bandits, loyalty was a rare thing. Strength was all that mattered.

“A wise man bows to the times,” Jiang Ming nodded. “Hu the Second, Hu the Third, see to the arrangements. Take the three peaks as soon as possible.”

“Yes!” Hu the Second and Chang the Third bowed respectfully.

Jiang Ming returned to his quarters.

“Sir, the hot water’s ready!” In the courtyard, Xiao Lan saw him covered in blood and trembled slightly, but hurried over to help him out of his outer garments.

“Don’t be afraid, I don’t eat people,” Jiang Ming said with a smile, then went inside to bathe.

Xiao Lan hesitated for some time before entering as well, her face crimson, voice as soft as a mosquito: “Sir, your servant will… will wash you.”

A surge of heat rushed from Jiang Ming’s abdomen to his head, but he forced it down. “No need.”

Xiao Lan let out a sigh of relief and withdrew.

But his heart remained restless for a long time.

More than ten days later.

“Chief, you’ve worn me out!” Now familiar with Jiang Ming’s temperament, Hu the Second had grown more casual. “Taming three strongholds, sorting and integrating everything—this old body of mine is falling apart.”

“That’s what being capable means—more work for the able,” Jiang Ming laughed.

Hu the Second was delighted, stroking his goatee. “Chief, as you instructed: those who needed killing were killed, the rest sent off; all the money and grain have been moved here. Stronghold Two is now for training, under renovation; Stronghold Three is being cleared for farming, and Four is for the horses.”

“All the books have been brought over to your study!”

“And all the medicinal supplements too!”

“What are your next orders?”

Jiang Ming already had a plan. In the future, Stronghold One would be the logistics base, with Hu the Second in charge.

As for the conquered strongholds, all the truly wicked had been buried, while those who’d been kidnapped were freed—those who wanted to leave were sent off with some silver, those who stayed joined the band.

“You’ll oversee things here and manage the operations. I’ll go to Stronghold Two to conduct elite training, improve their strength, and announce new rules,” Jiang Ming said. Then, after a thought, “Set up a school—let the children learn. Reading develops wisdom, understanding, and virtue, and at the same time nurtures loyalty to the stronghold.”

“Thank you, Chief!” Hu the Second was so moved that he was more excited than when the three strongholds had been taken, his eyes even growing moist.

“All right, go get it done. Don’t wear yourself out—find a few more helpers!” Jiang Ming waved him off.

Hu the Second bowed deeply and backed away.

Jiang Ming entered the study—a special room built in the small courtyard, not large, but sufficient.

“This is the true treasure trove!”

For him, consolidating the bandit stronghold was just a whim.

Absorbing knowledge, collecting martial arts, that was what truly mattered.

He began flipping through the books.

“This one… a pure body-tempering method!” Jiang Ming was surprised as he opened one volume. “Dragon Elephant Overlord Technique? Such an arrogant, domineering name.”