The Sea Heart Armor’s Inclusion property was its defining trait: acceptance. It could harness the power of a martial weapon’s master, unrestricted by internal breath or true qi, and even accommodate other energies to fuel its might. Beyond that, it swallowed an enemy’s assault like a pebble dropped into the ocean—barely stirring a ripple.


    The frenzied waves property flipped defense into offense. In plain terms, it reflected damage back at the attacker, rebounding in relentless, cascading waves.


    Then there was the assimilation property, a gift from the primal stone within. It turned an enemy’s strength into Han’s own, bending their power to his will.


    Of course, every martial weapon’s traits had their limits.


    The Skybow carried two properties, while the Sea Heart Armor boasted three. More didn’t always mean better, but the armor’s qualities were undeniably elite, a clear mark of its superior craftsmanship.


    Han couldn’t be happier with the Sea Heart Armor. He slipped it on at once, almost fancying he could smell the faint tang of the sea woven into it.


    “Now I’ve got two martial weapons,” Han thought, grinning inwardly. “A bow and armor—offense and defense, perfectly balanced.”


    No one in Black Cloud Town at the Tendon Pulse Realm could rival Han’s wealth of gear. Even in the three major martial schools and the three great families, martial weapons were typically reserved for disciples who’d reached the Organ Realm, where their true potential could shine. Only the privileged—like a family head’s daughter or a school master’s son—might get one earlier. Rogue cultivators? Plenty trudged through the Organ Realm with nothing but Hundred-Forged gear.


    Robbing Han would make someone an overnight millionaire.


    Thanks to a timely stamina refresh, Han was back at full strength. Four axe swings later, his haul rolled in.


    Marvel: Pathfinder Grass


    A natural wonder. Plant a guiding leaf at any spot, and no matter the distance or direction, the grass will always point the way.


    A neat little trinket—no more wandering lost.


    Marvel: Breath-Hiding Leaf


    A leaf from the Hidden Tree, a marvel of the wild. Masks your aura and conceals signs of life.


    A must-have for schemers and ambush artists. Straightforward and damn useful.


    Marvel: Ganges Water


    Drawn from the ancient Ganges, a river of endless mysteries where countless toxins mingle. Drink it, and it’s a coin toss: gain poison resistance or let venom rot your core, wrecking your foundation.


    “…What in the world? Is this that Ganges?”


    Han eyed the murky yellow sludge, brow furrowed, and stashed it away. A curiosity, maybe, but drinking it? Not a chance.


    Artifact: Poison-Warding Bead (Fragment)


    A piece of a Poison-Warding Bead, retaining a sliver of its power. Offers mild resistance to toxins, effective against all poisons to some degree.


    Another “warding” fragment—solid loot. Poison was a killer in this world, and this made Han’s toolkit even tighter.


    Skill didn’t matter if a single toxin could drop you. The Poison-Warding Bead fragment rounded him out nicely. Collecting enough to forge the full artifact, though? He wasn’t holding his breath. The Water-Warding Bead from way back was still a ghost.


    Martial Seed: Star-Pointing Finger


    True qi flows, bursting forth. One point dims the stars, cloaking the world in shadow.


    A finger technique this time—no weapon skills. Han had to hand it to the Great Thousand Immortal Tree for switching things up. The starry hype in the description? He skimmed it with a smirk. A Tendon Pulse move snuffing out stars? Total scam vibes from the Tree.


    Taoist Charm: Spirit-Speaking Talisman


    Lets you talk to beasts and hear their tongue.


    Taoist Charm: Star-Drawing Talisman


    Calls down starlight to boost your strength.


    Elixir: Explosive Flame Pill


    An alchemist’s flop. Aimed for a spiritual elixir, ended up with a lethal bomb. Failure’s just success in disguise, right?


    Add two cultivation pills and four spiritual herbs, and that was the full take from eight chops. Stowing it all, Han felt a twinge of urgency.


    The Great Thousand Immortal Tree’s next refresh was days away.


    Whatever “cheat” came next was a mystery—could be gold, could be junk. Cheats varied wildly. The Tree was one, sure, but so was a pill, a skill, or even raw grit and guts. Even if next month’s drop was decent, it might not match the Tree’s league. Cultivation resources wouldn’t rain down like now—he’d have to scrounge for them.


    That’s how cultivation usually went, anyway.


    “Here’s hoping these last few days cough up something good,” Han muttered, letting out a soft breath.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Better drops meant a higher realm. It all circled back to power.


    Keep pushing! Keep fighting!


    In the courtyard, An Lang basked in moonlight. She’d moved past instinctual lunar essence absorption, now practicing Moon-Absorbing Technique, a Taoist side-skill Han had snagged early on. Since their contract, he’d drilled Taoist know-how into her, and this was the payoff.


    Lu Qingmo’s high-end Lunar Spirit Refinement wasn’t off the table—Lu had okayed sharing it; it wasn’t some sacred Xuandu Temple secret. But An Lang wasn’t ready for its depth yet. Bathed in the technique’s glow, she looked like a lunar sprite, pure and ethereal.


    Han slid over, settling just outside the moonlight’s reach to cultivate.


    Morning came, and Lu Qingmo didn’t just lecture—she coached Han through Grand Righteous Palm and Thousand-Mile Shadow Sweep. Before heading out, with Lu’s nod, he left An Lang there to dive into incense-making. The martial school’s blood-hot warriors weren’t her scene.


    At the Yun River:


    Staring at the roaring current, Han dove in with a splash. He hadn’t hit the water in days, not since leaving Black Cloud. Nimble as a fish, he rode the flow like it was his engine. With his current strength, this stretch was his to command—no beast could bar his way.


    The Yun River was the Yun River Dragon Lord’s domain, but Han claimed a piece of it too. The Water-Warding Bead’s water-sensing perk made hunting savage beasts and spiritual herbs a cinch. Spatial pouch and ring meant no time lost lugging spoils.


    Takeoff time!


    He nabbed three spiritual herbs fast. Of their guardians, he killed one and let two water beasts off the hook. Flesh from early Flesh Realm or low Tendon Pulse critters didn’t do much for him or the Tai Bai crew anymore. No beef, no need—Han didn’t mind a little mercy. Beasts that dumb wouldn’t circle back for payback. If they did, though, he’d end them. He’d never sworn off hunting savage beasts to anyone.


    “Wonder if the shrimp soldiers and crab generals are still kicking. Has the Yun River Dragon Lord hit a snag like the Black Mountain God?” Han mused underwater. He still had their token—use it down here, and they’d show. He hadn’t tested it yet.


    Then the water surged, blood hit his nose, and a shark-like savage beast barreled at him, maw wide. Red eyes, wicked teeth.


    Han blinked. A shark in a river? This wild world kept surprising him—Earth logic didn’t cut it here.


    “Tendon Pulse Realm, huh? Big fella. I love smashing oversized punks like you.”


    He charged in. The instant they collided, a colossal force slammed into him. Its bulk packed a punch humans couldn’t match naturally. But Han wasn’t weak, and he danced circles around it.


    He hammered it, painting the water red. Oddly, even as it faltered, it didn’t bolt—its ferocity spiked, eyes glowing like bloody beacons.


    “What’s with this thing?” Han wondered. A berserk trait? Savage beasts were basic—fight or flight. Instinct ruled them. This diehard fury was new.


    One last stab to the brain finished it.


    “Freaky beast.”


    He hacked it into chunks and bagged it. Mid-cut, his senses pinged something in its gut. Slitting it open, he found a black-red bead, scarred and eaten away. The second it surfaced, a chaotic, wild vibe hit him—he brushed it off quick.


    “Ate something that flipped its switch?” Han pondered, then headed up. Water-Warding Bead’s timer was done.


    Splash!


    He broke the surface and clocked two figures sprinting his way, like they’d been lying in wait. Eyes narrowing, he didn’t hesitate—bolted, cratering the dirt with every step.


    The gap didn’t grow. It shrank, fast.


    Heart racing, skin prickling, dread crawled up his spine.


    That speed, that vibe… Organ Realm!


    “Friend, wait! Just need directions—no bad intentions!” one yelled.


    Han wasn’t biting. Trust them over believing he was royalty? Fat chance.


    <hr>


    “Two Organ Realm guys on him? No matter how slick he is, he’s toast.”


    “Lu Qingmo?”


    “Ghost God Division’s got her out of Black Cloud. Half an hour minimum before she’s back—plenty of time to leave her picking up Han’s corpse.”


    “She digs into it after?”


    “I’ll tie up every loose end. No survivors, no trail. Taoist tricks aren’t magic. We’re here for Han, not her. Plus, her sect ties are a mess anyway.”


    “Risky move.”


    “Name something that isn’t. This is our shot. Blow it, and we’re done in Black Cloud. Even if he skips town someday, he’s still Tai Bai’s rock. Blame him for being too good. Flesh Realm, I could deal. Tendon Pulse? He’s begging for it.”


    <hr>


    Same old spot, same old setup.


    Han never thought he’d get déjà vu like this. Was the Yun River his personal jinx?


    Senses flared—he didn’t need eyes to track the two Organ Realm fighters gaining ground. No escaping this. Tendon Pulse to Organ Realm was a chasm, and Organ Realm meant real muscle, even in a packed prefecture city.


    Sizing it up, Han chose.


    No running!


    He skidded to a stop, leg sweeping dust into a blinding haze. No lime powder, shame.


    Through the cloud, he lunged at them.


    “Wind God Legs!”


    Closing in, he bellowed. They braced for kicks—then air screamed as his fists flew at their skulls.


    Tai Bai Fist Technique!


    Thrown off, they blocked and swung back.


    “Gah!”


    Fists clashed. Han flew back, blood spraying, but they howled too. Their hands bled, peppered with tiny holes.


    Quasi-martial weapon: Thorn Gauntlets!


    They had rank; he had gear!


    Still, Organ Realm hit hard. The surprise jab cost him—blood surged, hands throbbed, foreign true qi clung stubbornly. They’d pulled punches, and he had quasi-martial armor cushioning it. Full-body martial-grade armor could guard all over, but the torso took priority.


    Organ Realm meant true qi projection!


    Han tapped the Sea Heart Armor to flush out the alien energy. A fresh Tendon Pulse fighter eating that hit would’ve lost their arms—or worse.


    “What’s on your hands?!”


    “Asshole, what Wind God Legs?!”


    They raged, floored by fist-delivered “legs.”


    “You buy everything I shout?” Han sneered. “Dumbasses!”


    “Big mouth, little life!”


    They roared back in, aura crushing.


    Han popped a pill, triggered a talisman. Power flooded him, skin shimmering gold.


    “Huo Family Fist!”


    He roared again, no backing down—straight into the fray with two Organ Realm heavies. Anyone watching would’ve lost their jaw.


    They heard the name, saw his legs twitch, and smirked. Same play twice? Not today.


    In a blink, Han’s fists blasted out, air popping. Prepped for kicks, they ate punches again.


    Boom!


    They stumbled back!


    “Your strength—how’d it jump?”


    “No legs this time?”


    “Same trick twice? I’m not that boring, pigs. I even gave you the name!”


    “Lowlife!”


    “Dirty snake!”


    Han scoffed, pressing forward. “You get nothing! Huo Family Fist isn’t some stiff, by-the-book garbage. It bends—flows!”