Chapter Thirty-Five: The Third Talent

“Ding: The system has detected that the host, in a special environment, has achieved the feat of solidifying cultivation, officially stepping into the third stage of Martial Arts—Qi of Steel Realm, and temporarily solidified the ‘Nirvana Rebirth’ talent.”

“Ding: Please, host, comprehend ten types of ‘Intent’ at the third stage of Martial Arts—Qi of Steel Realm, or else the ‘Nirvana Rebirth’ talent will disappear.”

Jiang Ming felt an immense surge of life force pouring into his body, vast as a tide, filling every cell, and a peculiar power was etched into his bloodline, imprinted upon his soul.

Yet now he could not spare a thought for the system's message.

Facing the attack from the Lord of Xuanming, Jiang Ming radiated a strange fluctuation of power, like cloud, like mist, like water; centered on him, it seemed as if a rainstorm was falling.

It was the Intent of Rain.

He had comprehended it.

He had also stepped into the realm of Grandmaster in this world; the resonance of the Dao enveloped his body, refining his true energy, even his soul and will undergoing a transformation, his entire being elevated and purified.

His combat strength soared in an instant.

Without time for deeper comprehension, Jiang Ming reached out, gathering energy into a weapon, and a long sword appeared in his hand, thrusting straight upward.

In the void, countless raindrops seemed to descend, then suddenly converged upon the tip of his sword.

It was the Sword of Dripping Rain, empowered by the Intent of Rain.

The might of this strike was far more terrifying than before.

“Impossible!” The Lord of Xuanming cried out in shock.

In that fleeting moment, he sensed earth-shaking changes within Jiang Ming, and felt as if heavy rain was falling around him.

Yet there was no rain.

He understood that Jiang Ming had grasped the true essence of rain, and the surge of power upon activation had created an illusion for him; moreover, Jiang Ming’s internal transformation was too swift, too terrifying, the eruption of power just now was vastly greater than his own breakthrough in the past.

The Lord of Xuanming found it incredible, even inconceivable.

So young, able to battle with him and break common sense, and even break through in the midst of combat?

Utter nonsense!

“What kind of monster are you?” The Lord of Xuanming hadn’t realized his voice was trembling, his internal energy surging wildly, making his attack surpass its peak.

In the blink of an eye, Jiang Ming’s sword pierced through the great palm imprint, the sharp power at the tip making the Lord of Xuanming’s hair stand on end; he twisted his body and dodged the strike.

The long sword in Jiang Ming’s hand shattered, dispersing into dots of true energy and vanishing in the air.

He clenched his palm, another long sword appeared, and he thrust again, this time with the feeling of a torrential rain.

It was swift to the extreme.

Another Sword of Dripping Rain.

With a muffled sound—

The Lord of Xuanming failed to evade; his shoulder was pierced, and he staggered backward into the distance.

Jiang Ming did not pursue, instead focusing on comprehending the changes within himself.

He finally understood why one became so powerful upon grasping Intent: Intent was the power of the Dao’s resonance between heaven and earth. Once comprehended, the resonance refined the body, elevated the self, even the soul and will underwent a certain degree of transformation.

When activated, it was akin to receiving the blessing of heaven and earth, multiplying one’s power many times over.

And this was only the initial comprehension.

“This old man’s understanding of the Intent of Ice is not deep.”

Jiang Ming looked at the Lord of Xuanming, a newfound clarity in his eyes.

Another benefit: upon comprehending Intent, he had achieved one of the feats necessary in this world—not only could he leave at any time, but he could retain all gains except physical items.

With the pressure gone, his heart relaxed inexplicably.

“To be able to retain cultivation, the talent of the third stage of Martial Arts naturally manifests, relying on the main world as a foundation? Interesting.”

[Nirvana Rebirth]: Possesses extremely powerful life force, with a trace of supreme life law imprinted, granting the host unparalleled healing, regeneration of severed limbs, rebirth from a drop of blood, even nirvana rebirth, immortality, and more. The talent’s power increases with strength.

The newly acquired talent delighted Jiang Ming beyond measure.

It appeared not to directly increase combat strength, but greatly enhanced his survival ability—he would be much harder to kill.

As for the ten types of Intent needed to solidify this talent, he was not concerned.

By comparison, this was a relatively simple task.

On the other side, the Lord of Xuanming’s expression fluctuated.

The wound on his shoulder had stopped bleeding; he looked at Jiang Ming, who had not pursued, and hesitated: fight or flee?

If he didn’t kill Jiang Ming today, in the future he would almost certainly be killed by him.

This youth was too monstrous.

He made even the Lord of Xuanming’s heart tremble.

“He’s comprehending the transformation of true intent?”

The Lord of Xuanming narrowed his eyes, steeling himself. He tore open his wound, blood gushing forth, which he drew before him; a surge of extreme cold infused into it, forming a blood-colored spear that he hurled toward Jiang Ming.

It was the forbidden technique he had comprehended: Ice Blood Spear.

The blood spear swept forth, shaking heaven and earth.

It seemed as if the elemental energy of heaven and earth blessed it, swirling in a vortex, tearing apart the sky, piercing all, annihilating all; the Lord of Xuanming followed closely behind.

Jiang Ming’s foggy eyes snapped into focus; he grabbed, gathered energy into a sword, and stabbed out again—the Sword of Dripping Rain—easily shattering the opponent’s Ice Blood Spear.

“Impossible!” The Lord of Xuanming, now in pursuit, shrank his pupils in horror.

“Nothing is impossible!” Jiang Ming’s sword shattered as well, but another appeared in his hand, and he unleashed the Thirty-Six Swords of Fine Rain.

With the blessing of Rain Intent, the power of his sword art soared several levels.

“I don’t believe it! I, the ancestor of Xuanming, a supreme grandmaster, can’t handle a mere youngster like you!” The Lord of Xuanming raged.

His palms flew, cold air surged, mist billowed.

Yet he could no longer break through Jiang Ming’s web of swords.

Thirty-Six Swords of Fine Rain, Eighteen Swords of Sudden Rain, Nine Swords of Fierce Rain, Three Swords of Wild Rain—Jiang Ming unleashed them all, using the opponent to temper himself.

His understanding of Rain Intent grew ever deeper, more unfathomable.

With each sword strike, its power increased.

“How can you be so monstrous? Comprehending the true essence in battle, and continuously strengthening it, even Master Zhang was never so monstrous—not even close!” The Lord of Xuanming was frantic, hair disheveled, body streaked with blood. “Are you human or demon?”

“I am immortal, an exile from heaven!” Jiang Ming replied with a laugh, feeling lighter and lighter. “Intent, or true essence—once mastered, it becomes very, very simple.”

“Simple?” The Lord of Xuanming’s voice rose seventy-two degrees. “I spent more than twenty years at the peak of grandmaster without comprehending it. Later, I was cast off a cliff, plunged into snow and ice, struggled between life and death, and barely grasped it. You call this simple!”

“Of course it’s simple!” Jiang Ming laughed. “Look, isn’t this another true essence?”

His aura shifted; the Dao resonance changed, and the environment that had been a torrential rain became enveloped in mist, making his swordplay ethereal and inscrutable.

“This is the Intent of Mist!”

His swordplay shifted again, coldness surged, the gathered mist condensed into ice pellets, matching the Lord of Xuanming’s cold aura.

“This is the true essence of Ice!”

Jiang Ming’s aura kept changing.

Rain as liquid, mist as gas, ice as solid—three different states of water. For Jiang Ming, who had mastered the basics, deducing and comprehending them was effortless.

But the Lord of Xuanming looked as if he’d seen a ghost, his eyes bloodshot.

“Impossible, absolutely impossible! That’s true essence—how can you comprehend three kinds in the blink of an eye? Jiang Ming, are you human or ghost?” The Lord of Xuanming was unnerved.

“This is nothing!” Jiang Ming was unhurried. As he performed his sword art, he first activated the Intent of Ice, coldness spreading, causing vapor to condense into mist.

With the blessing of Mist Intent, in an instant, thick mist enveloped the surroundings.

The power of Intent should be formless, but Ice Intent was especially unique—its intangible influence manifested as real mist.

Next, Jiang Ming activated the Intent of Rain.

The mist condensed, forming falling raindrops.

This was true rain.

Jiang Ming’s mind merged with heaven and earth, comprehending the wonders of the Dao, the way of nature; he gathered energy into a weapon, and his swordplay had already transcended the Fine Rain Sword style, effortlessly switching between three types of Intent.

Falling rain encountered extreme cold and transformed into ice rain.

Within this area, a strange force field formed, trapping the Lord of Xuanming, who could not escape.

Jiang Ming’s swordplay evolved ceaselessly; even the three types of Intent transformed, beginning to merge, faintly exhibiting the momentum of a great river in tumult.