This… listening made his heart itch. “Master, let’s see if I can train both at the same time. Your disciple here is a prodigy, after all. Practicing multiple techniques simultaneously shouldn’t be a big problem.”
This… makes my heart itch with excitement. “Master, how about we try practicing both at the same time? Your disciple here is a prodigy—handling multiple disciplines shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
“No!” Hunyuanzi flatly refused. “Such advanced cultivation requires immense time and effort, not to mention rare medicinal herbs for alchemy. More importantly, these two paths are diametrically opposed—their elixirs have conflicting properties. Taking them together would cause your meridians to explode.”
“Meridians exploding?” Yang Hao broke into a cold sweat. Life was precious, after all—he couldn’t just throw it away for the sake of learning more. “Then what are the benefits of practicing both magic and swordsmanship?”
“Magic is the most profound art in this world. It can create illusions, defensive barriers, even transformation spells,” Hunyuanzi said, inevitably veering toward women. “For example, if you meet an ugly woman, you could turn her into a beauty and… appreciate her.”
Yang Hao already had enough women in his life. He pursed his lips. “What about swordsmanship?”
“Swordsmanship is simpler—it’s a method of killing and attacking. Take Situ Hai, for instance. He’s a first-rate swordsman. Pity he hasn’t cultivated immortality, or else… heh heh…”
Yang Hao fell silent. Though he usually joked around, he knew this choice would shape his destiny for years to come—and even the future prosperity of the Danding Sect in this world.
He looked up but saw no sky. The massive boulder blocking the mine entrance cast a suffocating darkness, much like the oppressive void of the universe itself. Yang Hao knew the era of magic was long gone—Hunyuanzi’s golden age of cultivation had been buried in history. But what about swordsmanship? Could there be a golden age for that?
Every encounter with Situ Hai had left an indelible mark on Yang Hao. That sword technique, capable of piercing the heavens—when would he wield such power? Only then could he dominate the cosmos, exact vengeance, and fulfill the divine mission entrusted to him.
On a deeper level, Yang Hao saw that while the Galactic Empire was corrupt and decaying, it was far from collapsing overnight. The Anti-Empire Alliance was rising, but its members were scheming against one another—especially Steve, whose true ambition wasn’t to overthrow the Empire but to carve out his own little kingdom.
To change the current state of the universe, a massive upheaval was needed—a complete transformation. Yang Hao wasn’t sure what role he’d play in it, but one thing was certain: to achieve his goals and protect those who followed him, he had to rapidly elevate his martial prowess.
Not just to rank among the top hundred experts—but to soar higher, to a level where others could only look up in awe.
With resolve hardening, Yang Hao reached for the swords beside him—the heirlooms seized from the Ten Swords Sect, along with four of his own Five Swords. Their cold steel felt warm and familiar in his grip.
“I choose swordsmanship!” Yang Hao declared. “One day, I’ll truly defeat Situ Hai and become the greatest swordsman in the cosmos.”
“Ambitious!” Hunyuanzi cheered. “Worthy of my finest disciple! With swordsmanship added to our Danding Sect’s repertoire, it’ll be nearly impossible to wipe us out again.”
“Good!” Yang Hao, brimming with vigor, grabbed his Flame Sword and stood tall, channeling his qi into the blade. Flames erupted from its edge, giving him the unmistakable aura of a master swordsman. “Teach me the advanced techniques—let’s start now.”
“Patience. Sit down first.” Hunyuanzi’s words instantly deflated Yang Hao’s enthusiasm. “A true swordsman isn’t about posturing. If flashy moves were enough, why would we bother with cultivation?”
Even in his fervor, Yang Hao knew Hunyuanzi was about to reveal something crucial. He listened intently.
“A sword immortal’s techniques are nothing like modern swordsmanship,” Hunyuanzi explained. “Take Situ Hai—his skills are peerless, yet he’s no match for a sword immortal. Why? Because he relies solely on form, without refining his qi.”
“But I refine qi,” Yang Hao protested, feeling a surge of energy rise from his dantian, eager to burst forth. Since breaking through to the Nascent Soul realm, his qi reserves had grown exponentially.
“Wrong!” Hunyuanzi shook his head. “That’s just ordinary qi—good for alchemy, but swordsmanship demands something else. Sword techniques require a specialized sword qi, harmonized with the art itself. If you channel scorching qi into an ice-based sword technique, they’ll clash catastrophically.”
Yang Hao nodded, realizing the truth in Hunyuanzi’s words. Until now, he’d relied heavily on his Flame Sword, using the Ice Blade only as a supplement—precisely because his innate qi was fiery. Too much of it in the Ice Blade would trigger violent explosions.
So the properties of one’s qi, the sword, and the technique were all deeply interconnected.
Yang Hao exhaled deeply. Cultivation was far more complicated than he’d thought—even mastering the sword came with layers of complexity.
“Then how do I cultivate the right sword qi?” Yang Hao rubbed his temples. “Do I need to develop multiple qi attributes? What if fire and ice qi clash inside me? Even if they don’t, wouldn’t freezing everything around me—including you, Master—be problematic?”
“Ha!” Hunyuanzi had already anticipated this. “What is the Danding Sect’s greatest expertise?”
“Picking up women!” Yang Hao declared loudly.
“Alchemy! Alchemy!” Hunyuanzi roared, veins bulging in frustration.
“Well… our sect’s forte is clearly seduction…”
“The Danding Dual Cultivation Sect is the greatest immortal school in history. Since our cultivation methods differ from others, so too does our swordsmanship.” Hunyuanzi took pride in their uniqueness—a defining trait. Their method of bypassing meditation by refining and consuming elixirs was undeniably innovative.
“Today, I’ll teach you to forge Sword Pills,” Hunyuanzi said solemnly. “This is the Danding Sect’s most closely guarded secret.”
“Sword Pills?” Yang Hao was stunned. He’d imagined countless possibilities but never expected swordsmanship to involve alchemy.
“As you said, one’s body can’t harbor multiple qi attributes—yet sword techniques demand versatility. Thus, our ancestors pioneered Sword Pills, a breakthrough unlike anything before or since.”
“What exactly are Sword Pills?” Yang Hao had swallowed plenty of pills, but if Hunyuanzi expected him to gulp down a sword, that was a hard pass.
“Sword Pills are elixirs tailored for specific techniques. Each pill corresponds to a sword move, instantly generating the required sword qi to unleash its full power.” Hunyuanzi beamed with pride. “In its heyday, our sect’s 300 Sword Immortals struck fear across the land, each wielding peerless techniques.”
“If they’re so great, why didn’t you teach me earlier?” Yang Hao grumbled, lamenting his slow progress in combat despite rapid cultivation growth.
“Sword Pills aren’t for everyone. Only those who’ve reached the Nascent Soul realm can handle them,” Hunyuanzi chuckled. “Otherwise, the world would be overrun with sword masters.”
The two bantered lightheartedly, envisioning the Danding Sect’s glorious resurgence—300 Sword Immortals reigning supreme once more.
Finally, they got down to business. Forging Sword Pills was no simple task, starting with gathering materials. Fortunately, Empress Ming’s support and the agricultural abundance of Raymond Star (plus Saint Bear Star’s resources) ensured ample supplies.
Yet even then, Yang Hao was overwhelmed by the intricate, ever-changing recipes. Sword Pills weren’t just one or two types—they formed an entire system: three major categories, fifteen variants, each corresponding to a specific technique. Even within the same category, different moves required different pills to maximize their potency.
The three foundational categories were Attack, Defense, and Assassination. Attack techniques aligned with fire, complementing Yang Hao’s Flame Sword. Defense relied on ice, suited to the Ice Blade—though Yang Hao favored Assassination. His Invisible Sword had become his deadliest weapon.
After Hunyuanzi’s detailed explanation, Yang Hao grasped the Danding Sect’s swordsmanship framework. Attack techniques mirrored his existing Flame Sword moves, making them easiest to learn. Defense was unfamiliar but, as Hunyuanzi assured him, invaluable for survival.
The Assassination category, however, diverged entirely from Yang Hao’s expectations. These techniques involved deploying the Nascent Soul itself—rendering the attacker truly invisible.
Imagine: an undetectable Nascent Soul wielding an Invisible Sword. Killing would be effortless.
“Meridians rupture?” Yang Hao broke out in a cold sweat. His life was at stake. He couldn’t afford to die prematurely just to learn more techniques. “Then what are the benefits of magical arts and sword cultivation?”
“As for magical arts, they’re the most mysterious things in the world. They can create illusions, defensive spells, and even transformation techniques.” Huan Yuanzi always managed to steer the conversation toward women. “For example, if you meet an extremely ugly woman, you can transform her into a beauty. It would be nice to admire and play with her, wouldn’t it?”
Yang Hao already had plenty of women. He pursed his lips. “What about sword cultivation?”
“Sword cultivation is simpler. It’s just a method of killing and attacking. Like Situ Hai, he’s a top-level swordsman. Pity he only has sword techniques but hasn’t cultivated immortality. Otherwise, hehe…”
Yang Hao fell silent. He pondered for a while. Although he was usually playful and carefree, he knew this decision would affect his fate for many years to come. It even related to the continuation and prosperity of the Dan Ding Sect in this world.
Yang Hao looked upward, but couldn’t see the sky. The dark stone blocking the mine shaft weighed heavily, making the air feel oppressive. This dark space felt like the current dark universe, making it hard for those living in it to breathe. Yang Hao knew that this was no longer the age of magic. The golden era of immortality cultivation represented by Huan Yuanzi had long been buried in the dust of history. But what about sword cultivation? Would there be a golden age for sword techniques?
Meeting Situ Hai several times left a deep impression on Yang Hao with that sky-piercing sword technique. When could he possess such power, dominating the universe? This was the premise for Yang Hao to take revenge and fulfill his divine race’s mission.
On a deeper level, in Yang Hao’s view, although the Galactic Empire was corrupt and decaying, it was far from collapsing overnight. The Anti-Empire Alliance was rising, but its members had their own agendas. Especially Steve, his real intention was probably not to overthrow the empire, but to divide the territory and become a small emperor himself.
To change the current situation of the universe, a major and thorough change was needed. Yang Hao wasn’t sure what role he would play in this change. But no matter what, to accomplish his goals and take care of those who followed him, the only way was to rapidly improve his martial skills.
Not just among the top hundred experts, but higher, so high that people would look up to him in awe.
So Yang Hao made up his mind. He touched the several swords beside him. There was the family treasure of the Ten Sword Style that he had seized, and four of his own five swords. The cool feeling of those swords felt warm and familiar to Yang Hao.
“I want to cultivate sword techniques!” Yang Hao declared. “One day, I will truly defeat Situ Hai and become the greatest swordsman in the universe.”
“Great ambition!” Huan Yuanzi happily exclaimed. “No wonder you’re my good disciple. With sword cultivation as our training direction, it will be difficult for the Dan Ding Sect to be destroyed again.”
“Great!” Yang Hao was full of heroic spirit. He grabbed the Flame Sword and stood there, pouring his true energy into the sword. The flame blade quickly extended, indeed showing the demeanor of a supreme swordsman. “Let’s start right away. Teach me the advanced sword techniques.”
“What’s the rush? Sit down first.” However, Huan Yuanzi immediately pressed Yang Hao back to the ground. “Being a swordsman isn’t about posing. If just flashy moves were useful, why would we cultivate immortality?”
Even with his heroic spirit, Yang Hao knew that Huan Yuanzi was about to get to the key point, so he perked up his ears to listen carefully.
“The sword techniques of sword immortals are different from the sword arts of people today,” Huan Yuanzi explained. “People like Situ Hai have indeed reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship, but they still can’t rival sword immortals because they only have sword forms, not energy cultivation.”
“I do have energy cultivation,” Yang Hao immediately felt a surge of true energy rising from his dantian, almost wanting to burst out of his body. Since breaking through to the Nascent Soul stage, his true energy had become increasingly abundant.
This… makes my heart itch. “Master, how about we try practicing both at the same time? Your disciple here is a genius—handling multiple disciplines shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
“No!” Hunyuanzi flatly refused. “Such advanced cultivation requires immense time and effort, not to mention rare herbs for alchemy. More importantly, these two paths are diametrically opposed—their elixirs counteract each other. Taking them together would cause your meridians to explode.”
“Meridian explosion?” Yang Hao broke into a cold sweat. Life was precious, after all—he couldn’t afford to die just for the sake of learning more. “Then what are the benefits of magic and swordsmanship?”
“Magic is the most profound art in this world. It can create illusions, defensive barriers, even transformation spells.” Hunyuanzi, as usual, veered toward women. “For example, if you meet an ugly woman, you can turn her into a beauty and… appreciate her.”
Yang Hao already had enough women in his life. He pursed his lips. “What about swordsmanship?”
“Swordsmanship is simpler—it’s a method of killing and attacking. Take Situ Hai, for instance. He’s a top-tier swordsman. Pity he hasn’t cultivated immortality, or else… heh heh…”
Yang Hao fell silent. Though he usually joked around, he knew this choice would shape his destiny for years to come—even the future prosperity of the Alchemy Sect in this world.
He looked up but saw no sky—only the dark, oppressive boulder sealing the mine entrance, suffocating the air. This darkness mirrored the bleak universe outside, where survival was a struggle. Yang Hao understood: the golden age of magic and cultivation was long buried in history. But what about swordsmanship? Could there be a golden age for it?
Every encounter with Situ Hai had left an indelible mark on Yang Hao—that sword technique capable of piercing the heavens. To wield such power, to dominate the cosmos—that was the key to his vengeance and fulfilling the divine mission.
On a deeper level, the Galactic Empire, though decaying, was far from collapsing overnight. The Anti-Empire Alliance, despite its rise, was rife with schemers—especially Steve, whose true ambition wasn’t to overthrow the Empire but to carve out his own fiefdom.
To change the universe’s fate required a seismic shift—one Yang Hao wasn’t sure he could influence. But one thing was certain: to achieve his goals and protect those who followed him, he needed to rapidly elevate his martial prowess.
Not just to rank among the top hundred—but higher, to a level beyond reach.
With resolve, Yang Hao gripped the swords beside him—the heirloom blades seized from the Ten Swords Sect, and four of his own Five Swords. Their cold steel felt warm and familiar in his hands.
“I choose swordsmanship!” Yang Hao declared. “One day, I’ll surpass Situ Hai and become the greatest swordsman in the universe.”
“Ambitious!” Hunyuanzi cheered. “A worthy disciple indeed! With swordsmanship in our sect’s arsenal, we’ll be unstoppable.”
“Good!” Filled with valor, Yang Hao grabbed the Flame Sword and stood tall, channeling his qi into it. The fiery blade extended, radiating the aura of a master swordsman. “Teach me the advanced techniques—now!”
“Patience. Sit.” Hunyuanzi’s words instantly grounded him. “Swordsmanship isn’t about posturing. If flashy moves were enough, why bother with cultivation?”
Yang Hao, despite his fervor, knew Hunyuanzi was about to reveal something crucial. He listened intently.
“A sword immortal’s techniques differ from modern swordsmanship,” Hunyuanzi explained. “Situ Hai may be a peerless swordsman, but he’s no match for a sword immortal. Why? Because he relies on form alone, without refining qi.”
“But I refine qi,” Yang Hao protested, feeling the surging energy in his dantian—stronger than ever since breaking through to the Nascent Soul stage.
“Wrong!” Hunyuanzi shook his head. “That’s ordinary qi, good for alchemy but not swordsmanship. Sword techniques require specialized sword qi, tailored to each move. If you channel fiery qi into an ice-based sword technique, they’ll clash catastrophically.”
Yang Hao nodded. He’d mostly used the Flame Sword, relegating the Ice Blade to support—precisely because his qi was scorching. Too much in the Ice Blade caused violent explosions.
So the attributes of qi, swords, and techniques were deeply interconnected.
Yang Hao exhaled. Cultivation was indeed a complex intellectual endeavor—even swordsmanship came with layers of intricacy.
“How do I cultivate the right sword qi?” Yang Hao rubbed his temples. “Do I need multiple qi types? What if fire and ice qi clash inside me? Even if they don’t, freezing everything—including you, Master—wouldn’t be ideal.”
“Ha!” Hunyuanzi smirked. “What’s our sect’s greatest strength?”
“Chasing women!” Yang Hao blurted.
“Alchemy! Alchemy!” Hunyuanzi roared, veins bulging.
“Uh… our sect’s forte is clearly chasing women.”
“The Alchemy Dual Cultivation Sect is the greatest in history. Our methods differ—even in swordsmanship.” Hunyuanzi took pride in their uniqueness. Their approach—eschewing meditation for elixirs—was undeniably innovative.
“Now, I’ll teach you to forge Sword Pills,” Hunyuanzi said solemnly. “This is the sect’s most guarded secret.”
“Sword Pills?” Yang Hao was stunned. He’d imagined many possibilities, but never linked swordsmanship to alchemy.
“As you said, one body can’t house multiple qi types. But sword qi must adapt to techniques. So our ancestors pioneered Sword Pills—unprecedented and unrivaled.”
“What are Sword Pills?” Yang Hao had swallowed countless pills, but if Hunyuanzi made him gulp a sword, that’d be a disaster.
“Sword Pills are elixirs tailored to techniques. Each corresponds to a specific move, instantly generating the required sword qi for maximum power.” Hunyuanzi beamed. “In our heyday, the sect’s 300 sword immortals terrified the world—all thanks to Sword Pills.”
“Why didn’t you teach me sooner?” Yang Hao lamented. Despite rapid progress, his combat skills lagged.
“Sword Pills aren’t for the weak. Only those who’ve reached the Nascent Soul stage can handle them,” Hunyuanzi chuckled. “Otherwise, everyone would be a swordmaster.”
The two bantered, envisioning the sect’s glorious revival—300 sword immortals ruling the martial world.
Finally, they got to work. Alchemy was no easy task—starting with gathering materials. Thankfully, Empress Ming’s support and the agricultural riches of Remon and Saint Bear Planets ensured ample supplies.
Yet, the intricate recipes overwhelmed Yang Hao. Sword Pills weren’t just one or two—they formed a system: three major categories, fifteen types, each对应 a sword technique. Even within a category, different moves required different pills for peak performance.
The three core categories were: Attack, Defense, and Assassination. Attack techniques aligned with fire, suiting the Flame Sword. Defense relied on ice, matching the Ice Blade. But Yang Hao favored Assassination—his Invisible Sword had become his deadliest weapon.
After Hunyuanzi’s explanations, Yang Hao grasped the sect’s swordsmanship framework. Attack techniques mirrored his Flame Sword style—easiest to learn. Defense was unfamiliar but vital for survival.
Assassination, however, diverged entirely from his old methods. The new techniques involved deploying the Nascent Soul—truly invisible attacks.
Imagine: an undetectable Nascent Soul wielding an Invisible Sword. Killing would be effortless.
Yang Hao nodded, knowing that what Huan Yuanzi said made sense. For such a long time, Yang Hao had mostly used the Flame Sword, while the Ice Blade was only used as an auxiliary. That was entirely because the true energy inside his body was all fiery. If too much of it rushed into the Ice Blade, it would produce a terrifying explosive effect.
It turned out that the attributes of the internal energy, the sword, and the sword techniques were all closely related.
Yang Hao exhaled deeply. Only now did he realize that immortality cultivation was indeed a complicated intellectual endeavor. Even practicing sword techniques required so many procedures.
“So how can I cultivate the corresponding sword energy?” Yang Hao scratched his head but still couldn’t figure it out. “Do I have to cultivate different attributes of true energy? What if the fiery and icy energies fight inside my stomach? Even if they don’t fight, they might freeze the flowers and grass… and also freeze you, Master.”
“Haha!” Huan Yuanzi had long been prepared. “What is our Dan Ding Sect best at?”
“Chasing women!” Yang Hao shouted loudly.
This… makes my heart itch. “Master, how about we try practicing both at the same time? Your disciple is a genius—handling multiple disciplines shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
“No!” Hunyuanzi flatly refused. “This kind of advanced cultivation requires immense time and effort, not to mention rare and precious herbs for alchemy. More importantly, the two paths are diametrically opposed—the properties of the elixirs conflict. Taking both would cause your meridians to explode.”
“Meridians exploding?” Yang Hao broke into a cold sweat. Life was precious, after all—he couldn’t just die trying to learn a bit more. “Then what are the benefits of spellcasting and swordsmanship?”
“Spellcasting is the most profound art in the world. It can produce illusions, defensive techniques, even transformation magic,” Hunyuanzi said, inevitably veering toward women. “For example, if you meet an ugly woman, you can turn her into a beauty and… appreciate her.”
Yang Hao already had enough women in his life. He pursed his lips. “What about swordsmanship?”
“Swordsmanship is simpler—it’s just a method of killing and attacking. Take Situ Hai, for instance. He’s a first-rate swordsman. Pity he hasn’t cultivated immortality, or else… heh heh…”
Yang Hao fell silent. Though he usually joked around, he knew this choice would shape his destiny for years to come—even the fate of the Alchemy Sect in this world.
He looked up but saw no sky—only the dark, oppressive boulder sealing the mine entrance, suffocating the air. This darkness mirrored the bleak universe outside, where survival was a struggle. Yang Hao knew the era of spellcasting was long gone, buried in history alongside Hunyuanzi’s golden age of cultivation. But swordsmanship—could it usher in a new golden age?
Every encounter with Situ Hai had left an indelible mark on Yang Hao. That sword technique, capable of piercing the heavens—when would he wield such power? Only then could he dominate the cosmos, exact vengeance, and fulfill the divine mission entrusted to him.
On a deeper level, the Galactic Empire, though corrupt, was far from collapsing overnight. The Anti-Empire Alliance was rising, but its members schemed against each other—especially Steve, whose true ambition wasn’t to overthrow the Empire but to carve out his own dominion.
To change the universe’s current state, a radical transformation was needed. Yang Hao didn’t know what role he’d play, but one thing was certain: to achieve his goals and protect those who followed him, he had to rapidly elevate his martial prowess.
Not just to rank among the top hundred—but higher, to a level beyond reach.
So Yang Hao made his decision. He ran his fingers over the swords beside him—the heirloom blades seized from the Ten Swords Sect, four of his own Five Swords. Their cold steel felt warm and familiar to him.
“I choose swordsmanship!” Yang Hao declared. “One day, I’ll truly defeat Situ Hai and become the greatest swordsman in the universe.”
“Ambitious!” Hunyuanzi cheered. “A worthy disciple indeed. With swordsmanship in our arsenal, the Alchemy Sect will be nearly indestructible.”
“Good!” Filled with determination, Yang Hao grabbed the Flame Sword and stood tall, channeling his qi into the blade. Flames erupted from its edge, giving him the aura of a master swordsman. “Teach me the advanced techniques—now!”
“Patience. Sit.” Hunyuanzi’s words instantly deflated Yang Hao’s enthusiasm. “A true swordsman isn’t about posturing. If flashy moves were enough, why would we need cultivation?”
Even in his fervor, Yang Hao knew Hunyuanzi was about to reveal something crucial. He listened intently.
“A sword immortal’s techniques differ from modern swordsmanship,” Hunyuanzi explained. “Take Situ Hai—his skill is unmatched, yet he can’t rival a sword immortal. Why? Because he relies on form alone, without refining qi.”
“But I refine qi,” Yang Hao protested, feeling the surging energy in his dantian, eager to burst forth. Since breaking through to the Nascent Soul realm, his qi had grown exponentially.
“Wrong!” Hunyuanzi shook his head. “That’s ordinary qi—good for alchemy, but not swordsmanship. Sword techniques require a specialized sword qi, harmonized with the art itself. If you channel fiery qi into an ice-based sword technique, they’ll clash violently.”
Yang Hao nodded, realizing the truth. He’d mostly wielded the Flame Sword, relegating the Ice Blade to support—precisely because his qi was scorching. Too much in the Ice Blade caused catastrophic explosions.
So the properties of qi, the sword, and the technique were deeply interconnected.
Yang Hao exhaled. Cultivation was indeed a complex intellectual endeavor—even swordsmanship demanded meticulous preparation.
“Then how do I cultivate the right sword qi?” Yang Hao rubbed his temples. “Do I need multiple qi types? What if fire and ice clash inside me? Even if they don’t, freezing everything around us… wouldn’t be great for you either, Master.”
“Ha!” Hunyuanzi had already planned this. “What is the Alchemy Sect’s greatest strength?”
“Chasing women!” Yang Hao blurted.
“Alchemy! Alchemy!” Hunyuanzi roared, veins bulging.
“Uh… but our sect’s forte is clearly chasing women.”
“The Alchemy Dual Cultivation Sect is the greatest in history. Since our cultivation methods differ, so does our swordsmanship.” Hunyuanzi took pride in their uniqueness. Their approach—eschewing meditation for elixirs—was undeniably innovative.
“Now, I’ll teach you to forge Sword Pills,” Hunyuanzi said solemnly. “This is the Alchemy Sect’s most guarded secret.”
“Sword Pills?” Yang Hao was stunned. He’d imagined many possibilities, but never linked swordsmanship to alchemy.
“As you said, one body can’t house multiple qi types—yet sword qi must adapt to techniques. So our ancestors pioneered Sword Pills, a breakthrough like no other.”
“What are Sword Pills?” Yang Hao had swallowed countless pills, but if Hunyuanzi made him gulp a sword, that’d be disastrous.
“Sword Pills are elixirs tailored to techniques. Each corresponds to a specific move, generating the precise sword qi needed for maximum power.” Hunyuanzi beamed. “In its prime, our sect had 300 sword immortals, feared by all—thanks to Sword Pills.”
“Why didn’t you teach me sooner?” Yang Hao lamented. Despite rapid progress, his combat skills lagged.
“Sword Pills are too potent for novices. Only those who’ve reached the Nascent Soul realm can handle them,” Hunyuanzi chuckled. “Otherwise, the world would be overrun with swordsmen.”
The two bantered, envisioning the Alchemy Sect’s resurgence—300 sword immortals ruling the martial world.
Finally, they began crafting Sword Pills. Alchemy was no simple task—starting with gathering materials. Fortunately, Empress Ming’s support ensured ample herbs from Thunder Star and Holy Bear Star.
Yet even then, Yang Hao was overwhelmed by the intricate recipes. Sword Pills weren’t just one or two—they formed a system: three major categories, fifteen types, each matching a sword technique. Even within a category, different moves required different pills for peak performance.
The three core categories were Attack, Defense, and Assassination. Attack techniques aligned with fire, suiting Yang Hao’s Flame Sword. Defense relied on ice, matching the Ice Blade—though Yang Hao favored Assassination. His Invisible Sword had become his deadliest weapon.
After Hunyuanzi’s explanation, Yang Hao grasped the Alchemy Sect’s swordsmanship framework. Attack techniques mirrored his Flame Sword style, making them easiest to learn. Defense was unfamiliar but vital for survival.
Assassination, however, diverged entirely from his previous approach—it involved deploying the Nascent Soul for attacks, with true invisibility.
Imagine—an undetectable Nascent Soul wielding an Invisible Sword. Killing would be effortless.
“Er… isn’t the strength of the Dan Ding Sect clearly chasing women?”
This… it makes my heart itch. “Master, how about we try practicing both at the same time? Your disciple is a genius—handling multiple disciplines shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
“No!” Hunyuanzi flatly refused. “This kind of profound cultivation requires immense time and effort, not to mention rare medicinal herbs for alchemy. More importantly, the two paths are diametrically opposed—the properties of their respective elixirs conflict. Taking both at once would cause your meridians to explode.”
“Meridian explosion?” Yang Hao broke into a cold sweat. Life was precious, after all—he couldn’t just throw it away for the sake of learning more. “Then what are the benefits of spellcraft and swordsmanship?”
“Spellcraft is the most arcane art in this world. It can produce illusions, defensive techniques, even transformation magic.” Hunyuanzi, as usual, steered the conversation toward women. “For example, if you meet an ugly woman, you can turn her into a beauty—just for some amusement.”
Yang Hao already had enough women in his life. He pursed his lips. “And swordsmanship?”
“Swordsmanship is simpler—it’s just a method for killing and attacking. Someone like Situ Hai is a first-rate swordsman. Pity he only knows swordsmanship and not immortal cultivation. Otherwise, heh…”
Yang Hao fell silent. Though he usually joked around, he knew this decision would shape his fate for years to come—and even determine the survival and prosperity of the Alchemy Sect in this world.
He looked up but couldn’t see the sky. The massive boulder at the mine entrance loomed darkly, pressing down on the air itself. This suffocating darkness mirrored the oppressive universe outside, making it hard to breathe. Yang Hao knew that the era of spellcraft was long gone—Hunyuanzi’s golden age of immortal cultivation had been buried in the dust of history. But what about swordsmanship? Could there be a golden age for that?
Every encounter with Situ Hai had left an indelible impression on Yang Hao—that sword technique capable of piercing the heavens. To wield such power, to become invincible in the universe—that was the prerequisite for his vengeance and fulfilling the mission of the Divine Clan.
On a deeper level, though the Galactic Empire was corrupt and decaying, it was far from collapsing overnight. The Anti-Empire Alliance, despite its rise, was rife with internal strife—especially with someone like Steve, whose true ambition wasn’t to overthrow the Empire but to carve out his own little kingdom.
To change the current state of the universe, a massive upheaval was needed—a complete transformation. Yang Hao wasn’t sure what role he would play in it, but one thing was certain: to achieve his goals and protect those who followed him, he had to rapidly improve his martial prowess.
Not just to rank among the top hundred experts—but to ascend beyond, to a level where others could only look up in awe.
So Yang Hao made his decision. He ran his fingers over the swords beside him—some were heirlooms seized from the Ten Swords School, others were four of his own Five Swords. The cold steel felt warm and familiar in his grip.
“I choose swordsmanship!” Yang Hao declared. “One day, I will truly defeat Situ Hai and become the greatest swordsman in the universe.”
“Ambitious!” Hunyuanzi cheered. “Truly worthy of being my disciple. With swordsmanship as our path, the Alchemy Sect will be nearly impossible to destroy.”
“Good!” Filled with determination, Yang Hao grabbed his Flame Sword and stood tall, channeling his qi into the blade. Flames erupted along its edge, giving him the aura of a master swordsman. “Teach me the advanced techniques—let’s start now!”
“Patience. Sit down first.” Hunyuanzi’s words immediately deflated Yang Hao’s enthusiasm. “Being a swordsman isn’t about posturing. If flashy moves were enough, what would be the point of immortal cultivation?”
Even in his fervor, Yang Hao knew Hunyuanzi was about to reveal something crucial. He listened intently.
“The sword techniques of a Sword Immortal are different from modern swordsmanship,” Hunyuanzi explained. “People like Situ Hai may have reached the pinnacle of skill, but they still can’t rival a Sword Immortal—because they rely solely on technique, not qi refinement.”
“But I have refined qi,” Yang Hao protested, feeling the surging energy in his dantian, ready to burst forth. Since breaking through to the Nascent Soul stage, his qi had grown increasingly abundant.
“Wrong!” Hunyuanzi shook his head. “That’s just ordinary qi—fine for alchemy, but swordsmanship requires a special kind of sword qi, tailored to the technique itself. If you channel scorching qi into an ice-based sword technique, wouldn’t they clash?”
Yang Hao nodded, realizing the logic. He had mostly relied on his Flame Sword, using the Ice Blade only as a secondary weapon—precisely because his internal qi was overwhelmingly fiery. Too much of it in the Ice Blade would trigger terrifying explosions.
So the attributes of qi, the sword, and the technique were all deeply interconnected.
Yang Hao exhaled deeply. Now he understood—immortal cultivation was a meticulous intellectual endeavor. Even practicing swordsmanship came with layers of complexity.
“Then how do I cultivate the right sword qi?” Yang Hao rubbed his temples in frustration. “Do I need to refine different types of qi? What if fire and ice qi clash inside me? Even if they don’t, wouldn’t freezing everything around me—including you, Master—be a problem?”
“Ha!” Hunyuanzi had already prepared the answer. “What is the Alchemy Sect best at?”
“Chasing women!” Yang Hao blurted out.
“Alchemy! Alchemy!” Hunyuanzi roared, veins bulging.
“Uh… but the Alchemy Sect’s forte is clearly chasing women…”
“The Alchemy Dual Cultivation Sect is the greatest immortal school in history. Since our cultivation methods differ from others, so too does our swordsmanship.” Hunyuanzi took pride in their uniqueness. Indeed, their method—eschewing meditation in favor of refining and consuming elixirs—was highly innovative.
“Now, I’ll teach you how to refine Sword Pills,” Hunyuanzi said slowly, unveiling the most critical secret. “This is the true, unpassed treasure of the Alchemy Sect.”
“Sword Pills?” Yang Hao was stunned. He had considered many possibilities but never imagined swordsmanship would involve alchemy.
“As you said, a person’s body can’t contain multiple qi attributes—yet sword qi must adapt to different techniques. So our ancestors broke convention and created Sword Pills, a marvel unmatched in history.”
“What exactly are Sword Pills?” Yang Hao had swallowed plenty of pills, but if Hunyuanzi expected him to gulp down a sword, that was a different matter.
“Sword Pills are elixirs specifically refined for swordsmanship. Each corresponds to a different technique—consuming one instantly generates the required sword qi, maximizing the technique’s power.” Hunyuanzi beamed with pride. “Back in the day, the Alchemy Sect flourished thanks to Sword Pills, producing three hundred Sword Immortals who struck fear into all. Nearly every disciple wielded peerless sword techniques.”
“If they’re so great, why didn’t you teach me earlier?” Yang Hao regretted not having them sooner—his cultivation had progressed quickly, but his combat skills lagged behind.
“Sword Pills are too potent for just anyone. Only those who’ve reached the Nascent Soul stage can safely take them,” Hunyuanzi chuckled. “Otherwise, the world would be overrun with swordmasters.”
The master and disciple, having not bantered so freely in a while, indulged in mutual praise, envisioning the Alchemy Sect’s glorious revival—three hundred Sword Immortals under their command, dominating the martial world.
Once the daydreaming ended, the pair got to work refining Sword Pills. Alchemy was no simple task—first and foremost, the ingredients had to be complete. Fortunately, Yang Hao had Empress Ming’s support, and between the agricultural abundance of Raymond Star and the resources of Saint Bear Star, common herbs were plentiful.
Even so, the intricate and ever-changing recipes left Yang Hao dizzy. Sword Pills weren’t just one or two types—they formed an entire system, divided into three major categories with fifteen variations, each corresponding to a specific sword technique. Even within the same category, different techniques required different pills to unleash their full potential.
The three foundational categories were: **Attack**, **Defense**, and **Assassination**.
– **Attack** techniques were fire-based, perfectly suited to Yang Hao’s Flame Sword.
– **Defense** techniques relied on ice, matching the Ice Blade—though Yang Hao found them least familiar.
– **Assassination**, however, was his favorite. His Invisible Sword had become his deadliest weapon.
After Hunyuanzi’s detailed explanation, Yang Hao grasped the Alchemy Sect’s swordsmanship framework. The Attack techniques aligned with his Flame Sword style, making them easiest to learn. Defense techniques were unfamiliar but, as Hunyuanzi noted, ideal for survival.
The Assassination techniques, however, diverged entirely from his previous methods. These new techniques involved deploying the Nascent Soul itself—rendering the attacker truly invisible.
Imagine—an undetectable Nascent Soul wielding an Invisible Sword. Killing would be effortless.
This… makes my heart itch. “Master, how about we try practicing both at the same time? Your disciple is a genius—handling multiple disciplines shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
“No!” Hunyuanzi flatly refused. “This kind of advanced cultivation requires immense time and effort, not to mention rare herbs for alchemy. More importantly, the two paths are diametrically opposed—their elixirs have conflicting properties. Taking them together would cause your meridians to explode.”
“Meridian explosion?” Yang Hao broke into a cold sweat. Life was precious, after all—he couldn’t just throw it away for the sake of learning more. “Then what are the benefits of magic and swordsmanship?”
“Magic is the most profound art in this world. It can create illusions, defensive spells, even transformation,” Hunyuanzi said, inevitably veering toward women. “For example, if you meet an ugly woman, you can turn her into a beauty and enjoy the sight.”
Yang Hao already had enough women in his life. He pursed his lips. “What about swordsmanship?”
“Swordsmanship is simpler—it’s just a method of killing and attacking. Take Situ Hai, for instance. He’s a first-rate swordsman. Pity he hasn’t cultivated immortality, or else… heh heh…”
Yang Hao fell silent. Though he usually joked around, he knew this choice would shape his destiny for years to come—and even the future prosperity of the Alchemy Sect in this world.
He looked up but saw no sky—only the dark, oppressive boulder sealing the mine entrance, suffocating the air. This darkness mirrored the vast, lifeless cosmos, making it hard to breathe. Yang Hao knew the era of magic was long gone; the golden age of cultivation that Hunyuanzi and his peers had enjoyed was buried in history. But what about swordsmanship? Would there be a golden age for it?
Every encounter with Situ Hai had left an indelible mark on Yang Hao—that sword technique capable of piercing the heavens. When would he wield such power, unstoppable across the cosmos? Only then could he fulfill his vengeance and the divine mission entrusted to him.
On a deeper level, the Galactic Empire, though decaying, was far from collapsing overnight. The Anti-Empire Alliance was rising, but its members were scheming against one another—especially Steve, whose true ambition wasn’t to overthrow the Empire but to carve out his own little kingdom.
To change the state of the universe, a massive, fundamental upheaval was needed. Yang Hao wasn’t sure what role he’d play in it, but one thing was certain: to achieve his goals and protect those who followed him, he had to rapidly elevate his martial prowess.
Not just to rank among the top hundred experts—but higher, so high that others could only look up in awe.
So Yang Hao made his decision. He ran his fingers over the swords beside him—some were spoils from the Ten Swords Sect’s treasured heirlooms, others were four of his own Five Swords. The cold steel felt warm and familiar in his grasp.
“I choose swordsmanship!” Yang Hao declared. “One day, I will truly defeat Situ Hai and become the greatest swordsman in the universe.”
“Ambitious!” Hunyuanzi cheered. “Truly worthy of being my disciple. With swordsmanship as our path, the Alchemy Sect will be nearly impossible to destroy.”
“Good!” Filled with determination, Yang Hao grabbed his Flame Sword and stood tall, channeling his qi into the blade. Flames erupted along its edge, giving him the aura of a master swordsman. “Teach me the advanced techniques—let’s start now!”
“Patience. Sit down first.” Hunyuanzi’s words instantly deflated Yang Hao’s enthusiasm. “Being a swordsman isn’t about posturing. If flashy moves alone were enough, why would we need cultivation?”
Even in his fervor, Yang Hao knew Hunyuanzi was about to reveal something crucial. He listened intently.
“The sword techniques of a Sword Immortal are different from modern swordsmanship,” Hunyuanzi explained. “People like Situ Hai have reached the pinnacle of skill, yet they still can’t rival Sword Immortals—because they rely solely on technique, not qi refinement.”
“But I refine qi,” Yang Hao protested, feeling a surge of energy rise from his dantian, eager to burst forth. Since breaking through to the Nascent Soul stage, his qi had grown increasingly abundant.
“Wrong!” Hunyuanzi shook his head. “That’s just ordinary qi—fine for alchemy, but swordsmanship demands something else. Sword techniques require a special kind of sword qi, tailored to the art itself. If you channel scorching qi into an ice-based sword technique, they’ll clash violently.”
Yang Hao nodded, realizing the truth in Hunyuanzi’s words. Until now, he’d mostly wielded the Flame Sword, using the Ice Blade only as a backup—precisely because his innate qi was fiery. Infusing too much into the Ice Blade would trigger terrifying explosions.
So the properties of one’s qi, the sword, and the technique were all deeply interconnected.
Yang Hao exhaled deeply. Cultivation was truly an intricate intellectual challenge—even mastering the sword came with layers of complexity.
“Then how do I cultivate the right sword qi?” Yang Hao rubbed his temples. “Do I need to refine different types of qi? What if fire and ice qi clash inside me? Even if they don’t, freezing everything around me wouldn’t be good for you or the plants…”
“Ha!” Hunyuanzi already had the answer. “What is the Alchemy Sect best at?”
“Chasing women!” Yang Hao blurted out.
“Alchemy! Alchemy!” Hunyuanzi roared, veins bulging.
“Uh… but our sect’s forte is clearly chasing women…”
“The Alchemy Twin Cultivation Sect is the greatest cultivation school in history. Since our cultivation method differs from others, so does our swordsmanship.” Hunyuanzi took pride in their uniqueness—a defining trait. Indeed, their method of bypassing meditation and relying solely on elixirs was groundbreaking.
“Now, I’ll teach you to refine Sword Pills,” Hunyuanzi said solemnly. “This is the Alchemy Sect’s most closely guarded secret.”
“Sword Pills?” Yang Hao was stunned. He’d considered many possibilities but never imagined swordsmanship would involve alchemy.
“As you said, the human body can’t harbor multiple types of qi. Yet sword qi must adapt to different techniques. So our ancestors pioneered Sword Pills—an innovation without equal in history.”
“What exactly are Sword Pills?” Yang Hao had swallowed countless pills, but if Hunyuanzi expected him to gulp down a sword, that was a different story.
“Sword Pills are elixirs tailored for specific sword techniques. Each pill corresponds to a move, instantly generating the required sword qi to maximize its power.” Hunyuanzi beamed with pride. “Back in the day, the Alchemy Sect thrived thanks to Sword Pills—feared for its three hundred Sword Immortals, each wielding unparalleled techniques.”
“If they’re so great, why didn’t you teach me earlier?” Yang Hao grumbled, regretting his slow progress in combat despite rapid cultivation growth.
“Sword Pills aren’t for just anyone. Only those who’ve reached the Nascent Soul stage can handle them,” Hunyuanzi chuckled. “Otherwise, the world would be overrun with sword masters.”
The two bantered happily, envisioning the Alchemy Sect’s glorious revival—three hundred Sword Immortals ruling the martial world once more.
Finally, they got down to business. Refining Sword Pills was no easy task—starting with gathering materials. Fortunately, Empress Ming’s support ensured a steady supply from Thunder Star, the galaxy’s largest agricultural planet, supplemented by resources from Saint Bear Star.
Yet even then, Yang Hao was overwhelmed by the intricate formulas. Sword Pills weren’t just one or two types—they formed a complete system: three major categories, fifteen variants, each corresponding to a specific technique. Even within the same category, different moves required different pills to unleash their full potential.
The three foundational categories were Attack, Defense, and Assassination. Attack techniques aligned with fire, matching Yang Hao’s Flame Sword. Defense relied on ice, suited to the Ice Blade—though Yang Hao favored Assassination. His Invisible Sword had become his deadliest weapon.
After Hunyuanzi’s detailed explanation, Yang Hao grasped the Alchemy Sect’s swordsmanship framework. Attack techniques mirrored his existing Flame Sword moves, making them easiest to learn. Defense was unfamiliar but crucial for survival.
Assassination, however, diverged entirely from his previous approach—these techniques involved deploying his Nascent Soul to strike while remaining completely invisible.
Imagine—an undetectable Nascent Soul wielding an Invisible Sword. Killing would be effortless.
This… makes my heart itch. “Master, how about I try practicing both at the same time? Your disciple is a genius—handling multiple disciplines shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
“No!” Hunyuanzi flatly refused. “Such profound cultivation requires immense time and effort, not to mention rare herbs for alchemy. More importantly, the two paths are diametrically opposed—their elixirs have conflicting properties. Taking them together would cause your meridians to explode.”
“Meridian explosion?” Yang Hao broke into a cold sweat. Life was precious, after all—he couldn’t just throw it away for the sake of greedily learning more. “Then what are the benefits of spellcraft and swordsmanship?”
“Spellcraft is the most arcane art in this world. It can conjure illusions, defenses, even transformations,” Hunyuanzi said, inevitably veering toward women after just three sentences. “For example, if you meet an ugly woman, you can turn her into a beauty and… appreciate her for a while.”
Yang Hao already had enough women in his life. He pursed his lips. “What about swordsmanship?”
“Swordsmanship is simpler—it’s just a method of killing and attacking. Take Situ Hai, for instance. He’s a first-rate swordsman. Pity he hasn’t cultivated immortality, or else… heh heh…”
Yang Hao fell silent. Though he usually joked around, he knew this decision would shape his fate for years to come—even the future prosperity of the Alchemy Sect in this world.
Looking up, he couldn’t see the sky. The massive boulder blocking the mine entrance loomed darkly, suffocating the air. This dim space felt like the oppressive darkness of the universe itself, making it hard to breathe. Yang Hao knew the era of spellcraft was long gone—Hunyuanzi’s golden age of cultivation had been buried in history. But what about swordsmanship? Would there be a golden age for it?
Every encounter with Situ Hai had left an indelible mark on Yang Hao—that sword technique capable of piercing the heavens. When would he wield such power, unstoppable across the cosmos? Only then could he fulfill his vengeance and the divine mission entrusted to him.
On a deeper level, the Galactic Empire, though decaying, was far from collapsing overnight. The Anti-Empire Alliance was rising, but its members harbored ulterior motives—especially Steve, whose true ambition wasn’t to overthrow the Empire but to carve out his own little kingdom.
To change the state of the universe, a radical transformation was needed. Yang Hao wasn’t sure what role he’d play in it, but one thing was certain: to achieve his goals and protect those who followed him, he had to rapidly elevate his martial prowess.
Not just to rank among the top hundred experts—but higher, so high that others could only look up in awe.
So Yang Hao made his decision. Running his fingers over the swords beside him—some seized from the Ten Swords Sect’s heirlooms, others from his own collection—their cold steel felt warm and familiar to him.
“I choose swordsmanship!” Yang Hao declared. “One day, I’ll truly defeat Situ Hai and become the greatest swordsman in the universe.”
“Ambitious!” Hunyuanzi cheered. “A worthy disciple indeed! With swordsmanship added to our sect’s repertoire, it’ll be hard for anyone to bring us down again.”
“Good!” Filled with determination, Yang Hao grabbed his Flame Sword and stood tall, channeling his qi into the blade. Flames erupted along its edge, giving him the aura of a master swordsman. “Teach me the advanced techniques now!”
“Patience. Sit down first.” Hunyuanzi’s words instantly deflated Yang Hao’s enthusiasm. “Being a swordsman isn’t about posturing. If flashy moves alone were enough, what would be the point of cultivating immortality?”
Even in his fervor, Yang Hao knew Hunyuanzi was about to reveal something crucial. He listened intently.
“The sword techniques of sword immortals are different from modern swordsmanship,” Hunyuanzi explained. “Take Situ Hai—his skills are peerless, yet he can’t rival a sword immortal because he relies solely on technique, not qi refinement.”
“But I refine qi!” Yang Hao immediately felt a surge of energy rising from his dantian, eager to burst forth. Since breaking through to the Nascent Soul stage, his qi had grown increasingly abundant.
“Wrong!” Hunyuanzi shook his head. “That’s just ordinary qi—fine for alchemy, but swordsmanship requires a special sword qi, tailored to the technique. If you channel fiery qi into an ice-based sword technique, they’ll clash violently.”
Yang Hao nodded, realizing the truth in Hunyuanzi’s words. He’d mostly used his Flame Sword, relegating the Ice Blade to a secondary role—precisely because his internal qi was scorching hot. Too much of it in the Ice Blade would trigger terrifying explosions.
So the attributes of internal qi, the sword, and the technique were all deeply interconnected.
Yang Hao exhaled deeply. Cultivation was indeed a complex intellectual endeavor—even swordsmanship came with so many prerequisites.
“Then how do I cultivate the right sword qi?” Yang Hao rubbed his temples in frustration. “Do I need to refine qi of different attributes? What if fiery and icy qi clash inside me? Even if they don’t, freezing everything around me wouldn’t be good for you, Master.”
“Ha!” Hunyuanzi had already figured it out. “What is our Alchemy Sect best at?”
“Chasing women!” Yang Hao blurted out.
“Alchemy! Alchemy!” Hunyuanzi roared, veins bulging.
“Uh… but our sect’s forte is clearly chasing women…”
“The Alchemy Dual Cultivation Sect is the greatest cultivation school in history. Since our cultivation methods differ from others’, so does our swordsmanship.” Hunyuanzi took pride in their uniqueness—a defining trait. Their method of bypassing meditation and relying solely on elixirs was undeniably innovative.
“Now, I’ll teach you to refine Sword Pills,” Hunyuanzi said leisurely, unveiling the most critical secret. “This is the Alchemy Sect’s true, never-before-revealed technique.”
“Sword Pills?” Yang Hao was stunned. He’d considered many possibilities but never imagined swordsmanship would involve alchemy.
“As you said, one’s body can’t harbor multiple qi attributes, yet sword qi must adapt to different techniques. So our ancestors broke convention and created Sword Pills—an unprecedented marvel.”
“What exactly are Sword Pills?” Yang Hao had swallowed plenty of pills, but if Hunyuanzi expected him to gulp down a sword, that was a different story.
“Sword Pills are elixirs specifically refined for swordsmanship. Each corresponds to a different technique. Once consumed, they instantly generate the required sword qi, maximizing the technique’s power.” Hunyuanzi beamed with pride. “Back in the day, our sect’s three hundred sword immortals struck fear into all—each wielding peerless sword techniques, thanks to Sword Pills.”
“If they’re so great, why didn’t you teach me earlier?” Yang Hao regretted not making faster progress in combat.
“Sword Pills aren’t for everyone. Only those who’ve reached the Nascent Soul stage can handle them,” Hunyuanzi chuckled. “Otherwise, the world would be overrun with sword masters.”
The two bantered happily, envisioning the Alchemy Sect’s glorious revival—three hundred sword immortals ruling the martial world once more.
Finally, they got down to refining Sword Pills. Alchemy was no easy task, starting with gathering materials. Fortunately, Empress Ming’s support ensured a steady supply from Thunderstar, the galaxy’s largest agricultural planet, supplemented by produce from Saint Bear Star.
Yet even so, Yang Hao was overwhelmed by the intricate and ever-changing recipes. Sword Pills weren’t just one or two types—they formed a complete system: three major categories, fifteen variants, each corresponding to a sword technique. Even within the same category, different techniques required different pills to unleash their full potential.
The three foundational categories were: Attack, Defense, and Assassination. Attack techniques aligned with fire, suiting Yang Hao’s Flame Sword. Defense techniques focused on ice, matching the Ice Blade. But Yang Hao’s favorite was Assassination—his Invisible Sword had become his deadliest weapon.
After Hunyuanzi’s detailed explanation, Yang Hao grasped the Alchemy Sect’s swordsmanship framework. Attack techniques mirrored his Flame Sword style, making them easiest to learn. Defense techniques were unfamiliar but, as Hunyuanzi noted, invaluable for survival.
The Assassination techniques, however, diverged entirely from his previous understanding. These new moves involved deploying his Nascent Soul for attacks—while remaining completely invisible.
Imagine: an undetectable Nascent Soul wielding an Invisible Sword. Killing would be effortless.
This… makes my heart itch. “Master, how about we try practicing both at the same time? Your disciple here is a genius—handling multiple disciplines shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
“No!” Hunyuanzi flatly refused. “This kind of advanced cultivation requires immense time and effort, not to mention rare medicinal herbs for alchemy. More importantly, the two paths are diametrically opposed—their elixirs have conflicting properties. Taking them together would cause your meridians to explode.”
“Meridians exploding?” Yang Hao broke into a cold sweat. Life was precious, after all—he couldn’t just throw it away for the sake of learning more. “Then what are the benefits of practicing both sorcery and swordsmanship?”
“Sorcery is the most profound art in this world. It can create illusions, defensive barriers, even transformation spells,” Hunyuanzi said, inevitably veering toward women. “For example, if you meet an ugly woman, you can turn her into a beauty and… appreciate her.”
Yang Hao already had enough women in his life. He pursed his lips. “What about swordsmanship?”
“Swordsmanship is simpler—it’s just a method for killing and attacking. Someone like Situ Hai is a top-tier swordsman. Pity he hasn’t cultivated immortality, or else… heh heh…”
Yang Hao fell silent. Though he usually joked around, he knew this choice would shape his destiny for years to come—even the future prosperity of the Danding Sect in this world.
He looked up but saw no sky—only the dark, oppressive boulder sealing the mine entrance, suffocating the air. This dark space felt like the bleak universe outside, where survival was a struggle. Yang Hao knew the era of sorcery was long gone—Hunyuanzi’s golden age of cultivation had been buried in history. But what about swordsmanship? Could there be a golden age for that?
Every encounter with Situ Hai had left an indelible mark on Yang Hao—that sword technique capable of piercing the heavens. To wield such power, to dominate the cosmos—that was the prerequisite for his vengeance and fulfilling the divine mission.
On a deeper level, the Galactic Empire, though corrupt, was far from collapsing overnight. The Anti-Empire Alliance was rising, but its members were scheming against each other—especially Steve, whose true ambition wasn’t to overthrow the Empire but to carve out his own little kingdom.
To change the universe’s current state, a radical transformation was needed. Yang Hao wasn’t sure what role he’d play in it, but one thing was certain: to achieve his goals and protect those who followed him, he had to rapidly elevate his martial prowess.
Not just to rank among the top hundred—but higher, to a level beyond reach.
With resolve, Yang Hao gripped the swords beside him—some were spoils from the Ten Swords Sect, others were four of his own Five Swords. Their cold steel felt warm and familiar in his hands.
“I choose swordsmanship!” Yang Hao declared. “One day, I’ll truly defeat Situ Hai and become the universe’s greatest swordsman.”
“Ambitious!” Hunyuanzi cheered. “A worthy disciple indeed. With swordsmanship added to our sect’s repertoire, the Danding Sect will be unshakable.”
“Great!” Yang Hao, brimming with vigor, grabbed the Flame Sword and stood tall, channeling his energy into it. The fiery blade extended—he already looked the part of a master swordsman. “Teach me the advanced techniques now.”
“Patience. Sit down first.” Hunyuanzi’s words instantly deflated Yang Hao’s enthusiasm. “Swordsmanship isn’t about posturing. If flashy moves were enough, why would we need cultivation?”
Yang Hao, despite his fervor, knew Hunyuanzi was about to drop some wisdom. He listened intently.
“A sword immortal’s techniques differ from modern swordsmanship,” Hunyuanzi explained. “People like Situ Hai have reached the pinnacle, but they still can’t rival sword immortals because they lack Qi refinement.”
“But I have refined Qi,” Yang Hao protested, feeling the surging energy in his dantian—ever since breaking through to the Nascent Soul stage, his reserves had grown exponentially.
“Wrong!” Hunyuanzi shook his head. “That’s just regular Qi—good for alchemy, but swordsmanship requires a special Sword Qi, tailored to the technique. If you pour scorching Qi into an ice-based sword technique, they’ll clash violently.”
Yang Hao nodded. It made sense—he’d mostly used the Flame Sword, relegating the Ice Blade to a supporting role because his fiery Qi would cause catastrophic explosions if overused.
So the attributes of Qi, swords, and techniques were deeply interconnected.
Yang Hao exhaled. Cultivation was indeed a complex intellectual endeavor—even swordsmanship came with layers of nuance.
“How do I cultivate the right Sword Qi?” Yang Hao rubbed his temples. “Do I need to refine different Qi attributes? What if fire and ice Qi clash inside me? Even if they don’t, freezing everything around us… including you, Master, wouldn’t be ideal.”
“Ha!” Hunyuanzi had already figured it out. “What is the Danding Sect best at?”
“Chasing women!” Yang Hao blurted.
“Alchemy! Alchemy!” Hunyuanzi roared, veins bulging.
“Uh… our sect’s forte is clearly chasing women.”
“The Danding Dual Cultivation Sect is the greatest in history. Since our cultivation methods differ, so does our swordsmanship.” Hunyuanzi took pride in their uniqueness—a trait that defined the sect. Their approach, bypassing meditation by swallowing master elixirs, was undeniably innovative.
“Now, I’ll teach you to refine Sword Pills,” Hunyuanzi said solemnly. “This is the Danding Sect’s most guarded secret.”
“Sword Pills?” Yang Hao was stunned. He’d considered many possibilities but never imagined swordsmanship intersecting with alchemy.
“As you said, one’s body can’t harbor multiple Qi attributes, but Sword Qi must adapt to techniques. So our ancestors pioneered Sword Pills—an unprecedented marvel.”
“What are Sword Pills?” Yang Hao had swallowed plenty of pills, but if Hunyuanzi suggested swallowing a sword, that’d be a different story.
“Sword Pills are specialized elixirs for swordsmanship. Each corresponds to a specific technique—consuming one instantly generates the required Sword Qi, maximizing the move’s power.” Hunyuanzi beamed. “Back in the day, our sect’s 300 Sword Immortals terrified the world, all thanks to Sword Pills.”
“Why didn’t you teach me this sooner?” Yang Hao lamented. Despite rapid cultivation progress, his combat skills had lagged.
“Sword Pills aren’t for everyone. Only those who’ve reached the Nascent Soul stage can handle them,” Hunyuanzi chuckled. “Otherwise, the world would be flooded with sword masters.”
The two bantered happily, envisioning the Danding Sect’s glorious revival—300 Sword Immortals ruling the martial world.
Finally, they got to work. Alchemy was no easy task—starting with gathering materials. Fortunately, Empress Ming’s support and the agricultural abundance of Raymond and Saint Bear Planets ensured ample supplies.
Yet, the intricate recipes left Yang Hao dizzy. Sword Pills weren’t just one or two—they formed a system of three major categories and fifteen types, each corresponding to a sword technique. Even within a category, different moves required different pills for peak performance.
The three core categories were Attack, Defense, and Ambush. Attack techniques aligned with Yang Hao’s Flame Sword, focusing on fire. Defense techniques, tied to the Ice Blade, were unfamiliar but vital for survival. Ambush techniques, however, intrigued Yang Hao the most—his Invisible Sword, combined with a stealthy Nascent Soul, promised lethal efficiency.
After Hunyuanzi’s detailed explanation, Yang Hao grasped the Danding Sect’s swordsmanship framework. Attack techniques mirrored his Flame Sword style, making them easiest to learn. Defense techniques were foreign but essential. Ambush techniques, though bearing the same name, were revolutionary—using the Nascent Soul for invisible strikes.
Imagine—an undetectable Nascent Soul wielding an Invisible Sword. Killing would be effortless.
This… makes my heart itch. “Master, how about we try practicing both at the same time? Your disciple is a genius—handling multiple disciplines shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
“No!” Hunyuanzi flatly refused. “This kind of advanced cultivation requires immense time and effort, not to mention rare herbs for alchemy. More importantly, the two paths are diametrically opposed—their elixirs have conflicting properties. Taking them together would cause your meridians to explode.”
“Meridian explosion?” Yang Hao broke into a cold sweat. Life was precious, after all—he couldn’t just throw it away for the sake of learning more. “Then what are the benefits of spellcasting and swordsmanship?”
“Spellcasting is the most profound art in this world. It can conjure illusions, defenses, even transformations,” Hunyuanzi said, inevitably veering toward women. “For example, if you meet an ugly woman, you can turn her into a beauty and… appreciate her.”
Yang Hao already had enough women in his life. He pursed his lips. “What about swordsmanship?”
“Swordsmanship is simpler—it’s just a method of killing and attacking. Take Situ Hai, for instance. He’s a top-tier swordsman. Pity he hasn’t cultivated immortality, or else… heh heh…”
Yang Hao fell silent. Though he usually joked around, he knew this choice would shape his destiny for years to come—even the rise or fall of the Alchemy Sect in this world.
He looked up but couldn’t see the sky. The massive boulder at the mine entrance loomed darkly, pressing down on the air. This suffocating darkness mirrored the oppressive universe outside, making survival a struggle. Yang Hao knew the golden age of spellcasting was long gone, buried in history’s dust. But what about swordsmanship? Would it usher in a new golden era?
Every encounter with Situ Hai had left an indelible mark on him—that sky-piercing swordsmanship. To wield such power, to dominate the cosmos—that was the prerequisite for his vengeance and fulfilling the divine mission.
On a deeper level, the Galactic Empire, though decaying, was far from collapsing overnight. The Anti-Empire Alliance was rising, but its members were scheming against each other—especially Steve, whose true ambition wasn’t to overthrow the empire but to carve out his own little kingdom.
To change the universe’s current state required a massive, fundamental upheaval. Yang Hao wasn’t sure what role he’d play, but one thing was certain: to achieve his goals and protect those who followed him, he had to rapidly elevate his martial prowess.
Not just to rank among the top hundred—but higher, to a level where others could only look up in awe.
With resolve, Yang Hao reached for the swords beside him—treasures seized from the Ten Swords Sect and four of his own Five Swords. Their cold steel felt warm and familiar in his grip.
“I choose swordsmanship!” Yang Hao declared. “One day, I’ll surpass Situ Hai and become the universe’s greatest swordsman.”
“Ambitious!” Hunyuanzi cheered. “A worthy disciple indeed! With swordsmanship added to our sect’s repertoire, it’ll be hard for anyone to wipe us out again.”
“Good!” Fired up, Yang Hao grabbed his Flame Sword and stood tall, channeling his energy into the blade. Flames erupted from its edge, giving him the aura of a master swordsman. “Teach me the advanced techniques now.”
“Patience. Sit down first.” Hunyuanzi’s words instantly deflated Yang Hao’s enthusiasm. “Swordsmanship isn’t about posturing. If flashy moves alone were enough, why would we need cultivation?”
Yang Hao, despite his fervor, knew Hunyuanzi was about to drop some crucial wisdom. He listened intently.
“A sword immortal’s techniques differ from modern swordsmanship,” Hunyuanzi explained. “Take Situ Hai—his skills are peerless, yet he can’t rival a sword immortal because he relies solely on technique, not energy cultivation.”
“But I cultivate energy!” Yang Hao felt a surge of power rising from his dantian, eager to burst forth. Since breaking through to the Nascent Soul realm, his energy reserves had grown exponentially.
“Wrong!” Hunyuanzi shook his head. “That energy is fine for alchemy, but swordsmanship requires something else—sword energy, tailored to the technique. If you channel fiery energy into an ice-based sword technique, they’ll clash violently.”
Yang Hao nodded. It made sense. He’d mostly relied on his Flame Sword, using the Ice Blade as a secondary tool because his innate energy was scorching hot. Too much of it in the Ice Blade would trigger catastrophic explosions.
So the properties of one’s internal energy, the sword, and the technique were all interconnected.
Yang Hao exhaled deeply. Cultivation was indeed a mentally taxing endeavor—even mastering the sword came with layers of complexity.
“How do I cultivate the right sword energy?” Yang Hao rubbed his temples. “Do I need to develop different energy types? What if fire and ice energies clash inside me? Even if they don’t, freezing everything around me—including you, Master—wouldn’t be ideal.”
“Ha!” Hunyuanzi had already figured it out. “What is our Alchemy Sect best at?”
“Picking up women!” Yang Hao blurted.
“Alchemy! Alchemy!” Hunyuanzi roared, veins bulging.
“Uh… but our sect’s forte is clearly womanizing.”
“The Alchemy Dual Cultivation Sect is the greatest cultivation school in history. Since our cultivation methods differ, so does our swordsmanship.” Hunyuanzi took pride in their uniqueness. Their approach—eschewing meditation for elixirs—was undeniably innovative.
“I’ll teach you to forge Sword Pills,” Hunyuanzi said solemnly. “This is the Alchemy Sect’s most closely guarded secret.”
“Sword Pills?” Yang Hao was stunned. He’d considered many possibilities, but never imagined swordsmanship intersecting with alchemy.
“As you said, the body can’t harbor multiple energy types, yet sword techniques demand varied energies. Our ancestors broke convention by inventing Sword Pills—a revolutionary concept.”
“What exactly are Sword Pills?” Yang Hao had swallowed countless pills, but if Hunyuanzi expected him to gulp down a sword, that was a hard pass.
“Sword Pills are specialized elixirs for swordsmanship. Each corresponds to a specific technique, instantly generating the required sword energy to maximize its power.” Hunyuanzi beamed. “Back in the day, our sect’s 300 sword immortals struck fear into all, thanks to these.”
“Why didn’t you teach me this sooner?” Yang Hao lamented. Despite rapid progress in cultivation, his combat skills had lagged.
“Sword Pills aren’t for everyone. Only those who’ve reached the Nascent Soul realm can handle them,” Hunyuanzi said. “Otherwise, the world would be overrun with sword masters.”
The two bantered happily, envisioning the Alchemy Sect’s glorious resurgence—300 sword immortals ruling the martial world.
Finally, they got down to business. Forging Sword Pills was no easy task, starting with gathering materials. Fortunately, Empress Ming’s support and the agricultural abundance of Raymond Star and Sacred Bear Star ensured a steady supply.
Yet, the intricate recipes left Yang Hao dizzy. Sword Pills weren’t standalone—they formed a system of three major categories and fifteen subtypes, each tailored to a specific technique. Even within a category, different moves required different pills to unleash their full potential.
The three core categories were Attack, Defense, and Assassination. Attack techniques aligned with Yang Hao’s Flame Sword, focusing on fire. Defense relied on ice, matching his Ice Blade, though he found Assassination most intriguing—his Invisible Sword, once mastered, would become his deadliest weapon.
After Hunyuanzi’s detailed explanation, Yang Hao grasped the Alchemy Sect’s swordsmanship framework. Attack techniques mirrored his Flame Sword style, making them easiest to learn. Defense was unfamiliar but vital for survival. Assassination, however, diverged entirely—it involved deploying his Nascent Soul for stealth kills.
Imagine an invisible Nascent Soul wielding an Invisible Sword—now that would be a terrifyingly efficient way to eliminate enemies.
This… makes my heart itch. “Master, how about I try practicing both at the same time? Your disciple is a genius—handling multiple disciplines shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
“No!” Hunyuanzi flatly refused. “This kind of profound cultivation requires immense time and effort, not to mention rare and precious herbs for alchemy. More importantly, the two paths are diametrically opposed—their elixirs have conflicting properties. Taking them together would cause your meridians to explode.”
“Meridian explosion?” Yang Hao broke into a cold sweat. Life was precious, after all—he couldn’t just throw it away for the sake of greedily learning more. “Then what are the benefits of spellcasting and swordsmanship?”
“Spellcasting is the most arcane art in this world. It can produce illusions, defensive techniques, even transformation magic,” Hunyuanzi said, inevitably veering toward women within three sentences. “For example, if you meet an ugly woman, you can turn her into a beauty and… appreciate her.”
Yang Hao already had enough women in his life. He pursed his lips. “What about swordsmanship?”
“Swordsmanship is simpler—it’s just a method of killing and attacking. Take Situ Hai, for instance—he’s a first-rate swordsman. A pity he hasn’t cultivated immortality, or else… heh heh…”
Yang Hao fell silent. Though he usually joked around, he knew this choice would shape his destiny for years to come—even the future prosperity of the Alchemy Sect in this world.
Looking up, he couldn’t see the sky. The massive boulder sealing the mine entrance loomed darkly, pressing down on the air itself. This suffocating darkness mirrored the oppressive universe outside, where survival was a struggle. Yang Hao knew the era of spellcasting was long gone—Hunyuanzi’s golden age of cultivation had been buried in history. But what about swordsmanship? Could there be a golden age for it?
Every encounter with Situ Hai had left an indelible mark on Yang Hao—that sword technique capable of piercing the heavens. To wield such power, to dominate the cosmos—that was the prerequisite for his vengeance and fulfilling the divine mission.
On a deeper level, though the Galactic Empire was rotting, it was far from collapsing overnight. The Anti-Empire Alliance was rising, but its members were scheming against each other—especially Steve, whose true ambition wasn’t to overthrow the Empire but to carve out his own little kingdom.
To change the universe’s current state, a massive, fundamental upheaval was needed. Yang Hao wasn’t sure what role he’d play in it, but one thing was certain: to achieve his goals and protect those who followed him, he had to rapidly elevate his martial prowess.
Not just to rank among the top hundred—but higher, to a level where others could only look up in awe.
So Yang Hao made his decision. Running his fingers over the swords beside him—some looted from the Ten Swords School’s heirlooms, others his own—he felt their cold steel, yet to him, they radiated warmth and familiarity.
“I choose swordsmanship!” Yang Hao declared. “One day, I’ll truly defeat Situ Hai and become the greatest swordsman in the universe.”
“Ambitious!” Hunyuanzi cheered. “Truly worthy of being my disciple. With swordsmanship added to our sect’s repertoire, it’ll be nearly impossible for us to fall again.”
“Good!” Filled with determination, Yang Hao grabbed his Flame Sword and stood tall, channeling his qi into the blade. Flames erupted along its edge, giving him the aura of a master swordsman. “Teach me the advanced techniques—now!”
“Patience. Sit down first.” Hunyuanzi’s words instantly deflated Yang Hao’s enthusiasm. “Being a swordsman isn’t about posturing. If flashy moves alone were enough, what would be the point of cultivation?”
Even in his fervor, Yang Hao knew Hunyuanzi was about to reveal something crucial. He listened intently.
“A sword immortal’s techniques are different from modern swordsmanship,” Hunyuanzi explained. “People like Situ Hai may have reached the pinnacle of skill, but they still can’t rival sword immortals—because they rely solely on technique, without refining their qi.”
“But I *have* refined my qi,” Yang Hao protested, feeling the surging energy in his dantian, ready to burst forth. Since breaking through to the Nascent Soul stage, his qi reserves had grown exponentially.
“Wrong!” Hunyuanzi shook his head. “That’s just ordinary qi—fine for alchemy, but swordsmanship requires something else. The qi needed for sword techniques is a specialized *sword qi*, tailored to the art itself. If you pour scorching qi into an ice-based sword technique, won’t they clash?”
Yang Hao nodded, realizing the logic. He’d mostly used his Flame Sword, relegating the Ice Blade to a secondary role—precisely because his internal qi was overwhelmingly fiery. Too much of it in the Ice Blade would trigger catastrophic explosions.
So the attributes of qi, swords, and techniques were deeply interconnected.
Yang Hao exhaled deeply. Cultivation was truly an intricate intellectual endeavor—even swordsmanship came with layers of complexity.
“Then how do I cultivate the right sword qi?” Yang Hao rubbed his temples. “Do I need to develop multiple qi attributes? What if fiery and icy qi start fighting inside me? Even if they don’t, freezing everything around me wouldn’t be great—for you or the environment.”
“Ha!” Hunyuanzi already had the answer. “What is the Alchemy Sect best at?”
“Chasing women!” Yang Hao blurted out.
“*Alchemy!*” Hunyuanzi roared, veins bulging.
“Uh… but our sect’s forte *is* chasing women…”
“The Alchemy Dual Cultivation Sect is the greatest immortal school in history. Since our cultivation methods differ from others, so too does our swordsmanship.” Hunyuanzi took pride in their uniqueness—a defining trait. Their method of bypassing meditation and relying solely on elixirs was undeniably innovative.
“Now, I’ll teach you to forge *Sword Pills*,” Hunyuanzi said solemnly. “This is the Alchemy Sect’s most closely guarded secret.”
“Sword Pills?” Yang Hao was stunned. He’d considered many possibilities but never imagined swordsmanship intersecting with alchemy.
“As you said, one’s body can’t harbor multiple qi attributes—yet sword qi must adapt to different techniques. So our ancestors broke convention and created Sword Pills, a marvel without precedent.”
“What *are* Sword Pills?” Yang Hao had swallowed plenty of pills, but if Hunyuanzi expected him to gulp down a sword, that was a hard pass.
“Sword Pills are specialized elixirs for swordsmanship. Each pill corresponds to a specific technique—consuming it instantly generates the required sword qi, maximizing the move’s power.” Hunyuanzi beamed with pride. “Back in the day, our sect’s dominance rested on these. We had *Three Hundred Sword Immortals*, each wielding peerless techniques.”
“If they’re so great, why didn’t you teach me earlier?” Yang Hao grumbled, regretting his slow combat progress despite rapid cultivation growth.
“Sword Pills aren’t for just anyone. Only those who’ve reached the Nascent Soul stage can handle them,” Hunyuanzi chuckled. “Otherwise, the world would be flooded with sword masters.”
The two bantered happily, envisioning the Alchemy Sect’s glorious revival—commanding three hundred sword immortals, ruling the martial world.
Finally, they got down to business. Alchemy was no easy task—starting with gathering materials. Fortunately, Empress Ming’s support ensured a steady supply from Thunderstar, the galaxy’s largest agricultural planet, and Saint Bear Star’s resources.
Yet even then, Yang Hao was overwhelmed by the intricate, ever-changing recipes. Sword Pills weren’t just one or two types—they formed a system of three major categories and fifteen variants, each corresponding to a specific technique. Even within the same category, different moves required different pills for full potency.
The three foundational categories were: **Attack**, **Defense**, and **Assassination**.
– **Attack** focused on fiery techniques, aligning with Yang Hao’s Flame Sword.
– **Defense** revolved around ice, matching the Ice Blade—though Yang Hao found it least familiar.
– **Assassination**, however, fascinated him the most. His Invisible Sword had already become his deadliest weapon.
After Hunyuanzi’s explanations, Yang Hao grasped the Alchemy Sect’s swordsmanship framework. The Attack style mirrored his existing Flame Sword techniques, making it easiest to learn. Defense was unfamiliar but crucial for survival.
The Assassination style, though, diverged entirely from conventional stealth. These techniques involved deploying the Nascent Soul itself—truly erasing the attacker’s presence.
Imagine: an invisible Nascent Soul wielding an Invisible Sword. Killing would be *effortless*.
“If there’s such a good thing, why didn’t you teach me earlier?” Yang Hao felt regret in his heart. During this period, he always felt that his cultivation and improvement were fast, but his combat skills were progressing too slowly.
This… makes my heart itch. “Master, how about I try practicing both at the same time? Your disciple is a genius—handling multiple disciplines shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
“No!” Hunyuanzi flatly refused. “Such profound cultivation requires immense time and effort, not to mention rare medicinal herbs for alchemy. More importantly, these two paths are diametrically opposed—their elixirs have conflicting properties. Taking them together would cause your meridians to explode.”
“Meridians exploding?” Yang Hao broke into a cold sweat. Life was precious, after all—he couldn’t just throw it away for the sake of greedily learning more. “Then what are the benefits of spellcraft and swordsmanship?”
“Spellcraft is the most arcane art in this world,” Hunyuanzi said, veering toward women within three sentences, as usual. “It can conjure illusions, defensive barriers, even transformation spells. For instance, if you meet an ugly woman, you could turn her into a beauty and… appreciate her.”
Yang Hao already had enough women in his life. He pursed his lips. “And swordsmanship?”
“Swordsmanship is simpler—it’s just a method of killing and attacking. Take Situ Hai, for example. He’s a first-rate swordsman. Pity he never cultivated immortality, or else… heh heh…”
Yang Hao fell silent. Though he usually joked around, he knew this choice would shape his destiny for years to come—and even determine the survival and prosperity of the Dan Ding Sect in this world.
He looked up but saw no sky. The massive boulder sealing the mine entrance loomed darkly, pressing down on the air itself. This suffocating darkness mirrored the oppressive void of the universe, making it hard to breathe. Yang Hao knew the age of spellcraft had long passed—Hunyuanzi’s golden era of cultivation was buried in history. But what about swordsmanship? Could there be a golden age for the blade?
Every encounter with Situ Hai had left an indelible mark on Yang Hao—the sheer power of a sword that could pierce the heavens. To wield such strength, to dominate the cosmos—that was the prerequisite for his vengeance and the fulfillment of his divine mission.
On a deeper level, Yang Hao saw that while the Galactic Empire was rotting, it was far from collapsing overnight. The Anti-Empire Alliance was rising, but its members were scheming against one another—especially Steve, whose true ambition wasn’t to overthrow the Empire but to carve out his own little kingdom.
To change the state of the universe, a radical, all-encompassing upheaval was needed. Yang Hao wasn’t sure what role he’d play in that transformation, but one thing was certain: to achieve his goals and protect those who followed him, he had to rapidly elevate his martial prowess.
Not just to rank among the top hundred—but higher, to a level where others could only look up in awe.
So Yang Hao made his decision. He ran his fingers over the swords beside him—the heirloom blades seized from the Ten Swords Sect, four of his own Five Swords. The cold steel felt warm and familiar in his grasp.
“I choose swordsmanship!” Yang Hao declared. “One day, I’ll truly defeat Situ Hai and become the greatest swordsman in the universe.”
“Ambitious!” Hunyuanzi cheered. “A worthy disciple indeed! With swordsmanship added to our Dan Ding Sect’s repertoire, it’ll be hard for us to fall again.”
“Good!” Filled with valor, Yang Hao grabbed his Flame Sword and stood tall, channeling his qi into the blade. Flames erupted along its edge, giving him the imposing aura of a master swordsman. “Teach me the advanced techniques—let’s start now.”
“Patience. Sit.” Hunyuanzi’s words instantly deflated Yang Hao’s enthusiasm. “Swordsmanship isn’t about posturing. If flashy moves alone were enough, why would we need cultivation?”
Even in his fervor, Yang Hao knew Hunyuanzi was about to reveal something crucial. He listened intently.
“A sword immortal’s techniques differ from modern swordsmanship,” Hunyuanzi explained. “Take Situ Hai—his skill is unmatched among mortals, yet he’s no match for a sword immortal. Why? Because he relies solely on technique, without refining his qi.”
“But I refine qi,” Yang Hao protested, feeling the surging energy in his dantian, eager to burst forth. Since breaking through to the Nascent Soul stage, his qi had grown exponentially.
“Wrong!” Hunyuanzi shook his head. “That’s just ordinary qi—fine for alchemy, but swordsmanship demands something else. Sword techniques require a specialized sword qi, tailored to each move. If you channel scorching qi into an ice-based sword technique, what do you think will happen?”
Yang Hao nodded, realizing the logic. He’d mostly relied on his Flame Sword, using the Ice Blade only as a supplement—precisely because his innate qi was fiery. Too much of it in the Ice Blade would trigger catastrophic explosions.
So the properties of one’s qi, the sword, and the technique were all interconnected.
Yang Hao exhaled deeply. Cultivation was proving to be an intricate mental exercise—even swordsmanship came with layers of complexity.
“Then how do I cultivate the right sword qi?” Yang Hao rubbed his temples. “Do I need to develop different types of qi? What if fire and ice qi clash inside me? Even if they don’t, wouldn’t freezing everything around me harm… well, you, Master?”
“Ha!” Hunyuanzi had already prepared for this. “What is the Dan Ding Sect’s greatest expertise?”
“Chasing women!” Yang Hao blurted.
“Alchemy! Alchemy!” Hunyuanzi roared, veins bulging.
“Uh… but our sect’s forte is clearly chasing women.”
“The Dan Ding Dual Cultivation Sect is the greatest immortal lineage in history. Since our cultivation methods differ from others, so too does our swordsmanship.” Hunyuanzi took pride in their uniqueness—a defining trait. Their method of bypassing meditation by swallowing a primary elixir was undeniably innovative.
“Now, I’ll teach you to refine Sword Pills,” Hunyuanzi said solemnly. “This is the Dan Ding Sect’s most guarded secret.”
“Sword Pills?” Yang Hao was stunned. He’d considered many possibilities, but never imagined swordsmanship intersecting with alchemy.
“As you said, one’s body can’t harbor multiple qi types—yet sword techniques demand varying qi. So our ancestors broke convention and created Sword Pills, a marvel without precedent.”
“What exactly are Sword Pills?” Yang Hao had swallowed countless pills, but if Hunyuanzi expected him to gulp down a sword, that was a different story.
“Sword Pills are specialized elixirs for swordsmanship. Each corresponds to a specific technique—consuming one instantly generates the required sword qi, maximizing the move’s power.” Hunyuanzi beamed. “In its heyday, our sect’s Three Hundred Sword Immortals struck fear into all, each wielding peerless techniques thanks to Sword Pills.”
“If they’re so great, why didn’t you teach me earlier?” Yang Hao regretted not having them sooner—his cultivation had progressed rapidly, but his combat skills lagged.
“Sword Pills aren’t for just anyone. Only those who’ve reached the Nascent Soul stage can handle them,” Hunyuanzi chuckled. “Otherwise, the world would be flooded with sword masters.”
The master and disciple bantered happily, envisioning the Dan Ding Sect’s resurgence—three hundred sword immortals ruling the martial world.
Finally, they got down to business. Refining Sword Pills was no easy task—starting with gathering materials. Fortunately, Empress Ming’s support and the agricultural abundance of Raymond Star (plus Saint Bear Star’s resources) ensured ample supplies.
Still, the intricate, ever-changing recipes left Yang Hao dizzy. Sword Pills weren’t just one or two—they formed a system: three major categories, fifteen types, each corresponding to a sword technique. Even within the same category, different moves required different pills to unleash their full potential.
The three foundational categories were: Attack, Defense, and Assassination. Attack techniques aligned with fire, suiting Yang Hao’s Flame Sword. Defense relied on ice, matching the Ice Blade—though Yang Hao favored Assassination. His Invisible Sword had become his deadliest weapon.
After Hunyuanzi’s explanations, Yang Hao grasped the Dan Ding Sect’s swordsmanship framework. Attack techniques mirrored his Flame Sword style, making them easiest to learn. Defense was unfamiliar but, according to Hunyuanzi, vital for survival.
Assassination techniques, however, diverged entirely from Yang Hao’s previous approach. These new moves involved deploying his Nascent Soul—rendering the attacker truly invisible.
Imagine: an undetectable Nascent Soul wielding an Invisible Sword. Killing would be effortless.
The master and apprentice hadn’t chatted so happily for a long time. They began to praise each other, as if they could soon see the Dan Ding Sect return to its former glory, with hundreds of sword immortals under its command, ruling the martial world.
This… makes my heart itch. “Master, how about we try practicing both at the same time? Your disciple is a genius—handling multiple disciplines shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
“No!” Hunyuanzi flatly refused. “Such advanced cultivation requires immense time and effort, not to mention rare herbs for alchemy. More importantly, the two paths are diametrically opposed—their elixirs have conflicting properties. Taking them together would cause your meridians to explode.”
“Meridian explosion?” Yang Hao broke into a cold sweat. Life was precious, after all—he couldn’t just throw it away for the sake of learning more. “Then what are the benefits of spellcraft and swordsmanship?”
“Spellcraft is the most profound art in this world. It can conjure illusions, defenses, even transformations,” Hunyuanzi said, inevitably veering toward women. “For example, if you meet an ugly woman, you can turn her into a beauty and… appreciate her.”
Yang Hao already had enough women in his life. He pursed his lips. “What about swordsmanship?”
“Swordsmanship is simpler—it’s just a method of killing and attacking. Take Situ Hai, for instance. He’s a first-rate swordsman. Pity he never cultivated immortality, or else… heh…”
Yang Hao fell silent. Though he usually joked around, he knew this choice would shape his destiny for years to come—even the fate of the Alchemy Sect’s resurgence in this world.
He looked up but saw no sky—only the oppressive black boulder sealing the mine shaft, suffocating the air. This darkness mirrored the void of space, making survival a struggle. Yang Hao understood: the golden age of spellcraft was long buried in history. But what about swordsmanship? Would it usher in a new era?
Every encounter with Situ Hai had left an indelible mark on him—that swordplay capable of piercing the heavens. To wield such power, to dominate the cosmos—that was the key to vengeance and fulfilling the divine mission.
On a deeper level, the Galactic Empire, though decaying, was far from collapse. The Anti-Empire Alliance was rising, but its members schemed against each other—especially Steve, whose true ambition wasn’t to overthrow the Empire but to carve out his own petty kingdom.
To change the universe’s trajectory required a seismic shift. Yang Hao didn’t know what role he’d play, but one thing was certain: to protect his people and achieve his goals, he needed to sharpen his martial prowess—not just to rank among the top hundred, but to stand at the pinnacle.
So he made his decision. Running his fingers over the swords beside him—the heirloom blades of the Ten-Sword School, four of his own Five Swords—their cold steel felt warm and familiar.
“I choose swordsmanship!” Yang Hao declared. “One day, I’ll surpass Situ Hai and become the greatest swordsman in the universe.”
“Ambitious!” Hunyuanzi crowed. “A worthy disciple indeed! With swordsmanship in our arsenal, the Alchemy Sect will never fall again.”
“Good!” Yang Hao, brimming with vigor, seized his Flame Sword and stood tall, channeling energy into the blade. Flames erupted, casting him in the aura of a master swordsman. “Teach me the advanced techniques—now!”
“Patience. Sit.” Hunyuanzi’s words yanked Yang Hao back to the ground. “Swordsmanship isn’t about posturing. If flashy moves alone sufficed, why would we need cultivation?”
Even in his fervor, Yang Hao knew Hunyuanzi was about to reveal something crucial. He listened intently.
“A sword immortal’s techniques differ from modern swordsmanship,” Hunyuanzi explained. “Take Situ Hai—his skill is unmatched, yet he’s no match for a sword immortal. Why? Because he relies on form, not energy refinement.”
“But I refine energy,” Yang Hao protested, feeling surging power from his dantian. Since breaking through to the Nascent Soul stage, his energy reserves had grown exponentially.
“Wrong!” Hunyuanzi shook his head. “That energy is fine for alchemy, but swordsmanship demands a unique sword energy, tailored to each technique. If you channel fiery energy into an ice-based sword art, they’ll clash violently.”
Yang Hao nodded. He’d mostly wielded the Flame Sword, using the Ice Blade sparingly—precisely because his innate energy was scorching. Too much in the Ice Blade triggered catastrophic explosions.
So the properties of energy, sword, and technique were deeply intertwined.
Yang Hao exhaled. Cultivation was a headache—even swordsmanship came with layers of complexity.
“How do I cultivate the right sword energy?” He rubbed his temples. “Do I need multiple energy types? What if fire and ice clash inside me? Even if they don’t, freezing everything around us… wouldn’t be great for you, Master.”
“Ha!” Hunyuanzi smirked. “What is the Alchemy Sect’s greatest strength?”
“Chasing women!” Yang Hao declared.
“Alchemy! Alchemy!” Hunyuanzi roared, veins bulging.
“Uh… our sect’s forte is clearly skirt-chasing.”
“The Alchemy Dual Cultivation Sect is history’s premier school. Our methods differ—so naturally, our swordsmanship does too.” Hunyuanzi took pride in their uniqueness. Their approach—eschewing meditation for elixirs—was undeniably innovative.
“Today, I’ll teach you to forge Sword Pills,” Hunyuanzi said solemnly. “The sect’s most guarded secret.”
“Sword Pills?” Yang Hao blinked. Of all possibilities, he hadn’t expected swordsmanship to involve alchemy.
“As you said, one body can’t house conflicting energies. Yet sword techniques demand versatility. So our ancestors pioneered Sword Pills—a breakthrough like no other.”
“What are they?” Yang Hao had swallowed countless pills, but if Hunyuanzi expected him to gulp down a sword…
“Sword Pills are elixirs tailored to techniques. Each corresponds to a specific move, generating the precise sword energy needed for maximum power.” Hunyuanzi preened. “In its heyday, our sect boasted three hundred sword immortals—each wielding peerless techniques, all thanks to Sword Pills.”
“Why didn’t you teach me sooner?” Yang Hao grumbled. Despite rapid cultivation progress, his combat skills lagged.
“Sword Pills aren’t for the weak. Only those who’ve reached the Nascent Soul stage can handle them,” Hunyuanzi said. “Otherwise, the world would be drowning in sword masters.”
The two bantered, envisioning the Alchemy Sect’s glorious return—three hundred sword immortals ruling the cosmos.
Finally, they got to work. Alchemy was no simple task—starting with materials. Fortunately, Empress Ming’s support and the agricultural riches of Raymond and Saint Bear Planets ensured ample supplies.
Yet the intricate recipes left Yang Hao dizzy. Sword Pills weren’t standalone—they formed a system: three major categories, fifteen types, each linked to a technique. Even within a category, different moves required different pills for full potency.
The three core categories were: Attack, Defense, and Assassination. Attack techniques aligned with fire, matching Yang Hao’s Flame Sword. Defense relied on ice, suited to the Ice Blade—though Yang Hao favored Assassination. His Invisible Sword had become his deadliest weapon.
After Hunyuanzi’s explanation, Yang Hao grasped the Alchemy Sect’s swordsmanship framework. Attack techniques mirrored his Flame Sword style—easiest to master. Defense was unfamiliar but vital for survival.
Assassination, however, diverged entirely from his old methods. The new techniques involved deploying his Nascent Soul—rendering the attacker truly invisible.
Imagine: an undetectable Nascent Soul wielding an Invisible Sword. Killing would be effortless.
This… makes my heart itch. “Master, how about we try practicing both at the same time? Your disciple here is a genius—handling multiple disciplines shouldn’t be too much trouble.”
“No!” Hunyuanzi flatly refused. “Such profound cultivation requires immense time and effort, not to mention rare medicinal herbs for alchemy. More importantly, these two paths are diametrically opposed—their elixirs have conflicting properties. Taking both would rupture your meridians.”
“Meridian rupture?” Yang Hao broke into a cold sweat. Life was precious, after all—no point dying just to learn a bit more. “Then what are the benefits of spellcraft and swordsmanship?”
“Spellcraft is the most arcane art in the world,” Hunyuanzi explained, veering toward women as usual within three sentences. “It can conjure illusions, defenses, even transformations. Say you meet an ugly woman—just turn her into a beauty for some… appreciation.”
Yang Hao had enough women already. He pursed his lips. “And swordsmanship?”
“Swordsmanship is simpler—it’s just a method for killing and attacking. Take Situ Hai—he’s a top-tier swordsman. Pity he lacks immortal cultivation, or else, heh…”
Yang Hao fell silent. Despite his usual levity, he knew this choice would shape his destiny for years to come—even the fate of the Alchemy Sect’s revival.
He looked up but saw no sky. The boulder sealing the mine shaft loomed darkly, suffocating the air. This abyss mirrored the oppressive cosmos, where survival itself was a struggle. Yang Hao knew spellcraft’s golden age, like Hunyuanzi’s era, was long buried. But swordsmanship—could it usher in a new zenith?
Every encounter with Situ Hai had seared those sky-piercing techniques into Yang Hao’s mind. To wield such power, to dominate the cosmos—that was the key to vengeance and fulfilling his divine mission.
Deeper still, Yang Hao saw the crumbling Galactic Empire wasn’t collapsing overnight. The Anti-Empire Alliance, though rising, was rife with schemers—especially Steve, whose true ambition wasn’t revolution but carving out his own petty kingdom.
To change the cosmos required a seismic shift. Yang Hao didn’t know his role in it, but one thing was clear: to achieve his goals and protect his followers, he needed unparalleled martial prowess.
Not just ranking among the top 100—but towering above all.
Decision made, Yang Hao touched the swords beside him: spoils from the Ten Blades School, four of his own Five Blades. Their cold steel felt warm and familiar.
“I choose swordsmanship!” Yang Hao declared. “One day, I’ll surpass Situ Hai and become the universe’s greatest swordsman.”
“Ambitious!” Hunyuanzi crowed. “A worthy disciple! With swordsmanship, our Alchemy Sect will never fall again.”
“Let’s begin!” Yang Hao’s spirit blazed. He gripped his Flame Sword, channeling qi into its fiery edge—already striking the pose of a grandmaster. “Teach me the advanced techniques.”
“Patience. Sit.” Hunyuanzi’s words pinned Yang Hao down. “Swordsmanship isn’t about posturing. If flashy moves alone sufficed, why bother with immortal cultivation?”
Yang Hao perked up—the crux was coming.
“A sword immortal’s art differs from modern swordsmanship,” Hunyuanzi explained. “Situ Hai may be peerless, but he’s no match for sword immortals. Why? He has technique, but no qi refinement.”
“I’ve refined qi,” Yang Hao protested, feeling surging energy from his dantian—more abundant since reaching the Nascent Soul stage.
“Wrong!” Hunyuanzi shook his head. “Your qi suits alchemy, not swordsmanship. Sword techniques demand specialized sword qi, harmonized with each move. Pouring fiery qi into an ice-based technique? That’s just conflict.”
Yang Hao nodded. He’d mostly used his Flame Sword, relegating Ice Blade to support—precisely because his scorching qi would violently destabilize icy weapons.
So a swordsman’s internal qi must align with their blade and techniques.
Yang Hao exhaled. Cultivation was exhausting mental labor—even swordsmanship came with red tape.
“How do I cultivate matching sword qi?” Yang Hao rubbed his aching head. “Do I need multiple qi types? What if fire and ice clash inside me? Even if they don’t, freezing everything—including you, Master—hardly seems ideal.”
“Ha!” Hunyuanzi smirked. “What’s our sect’s specialty?”
“Chasing women!” Yang Hao declared.
“Alchemy! Alchemy!” Hunyuanzi roared, veins bulging.
“…Our sect’s forte is clearly skirt-chasing.”
“The Alchemy Dual Cultivation Sect is history’s premier immortal school. Our cultivation differs—so does our swordsmanship.” Hunyuanzi relished their uniqueness. Indeed, their “refine a pill, swallow it, done” approach was revolutionary.
“Today, I’ll teach you to forge Sword Pills,” Hunyuanzi revealed solemnly. “The Alchemy Sect’s ultimate secret.”
“Sword Pills?” Yang Hao gaped. Of all possibilities, linking swordsmanship to alchemy never crossed his mind.
“As you said, one body can’t house conflicting qi types—yet sword qi must adapt. Our ancestors broke convention, creating the unprecedented Sword Pills.”
“What are they?” Yang Hao had swallowed countless pills, but gulping a sword sounded lethal.
“Sword Pills are elixirs tailored to techniques. Each corresponds to a move, instantly generating the required sword qi for maximum power.” Hunyuanzi preened. “In our heyday, these birthed 300 dreaded sword immortals—each wielding peerless techniques.”
“Why withhold such treasures?” Yang Hao lamented his sluggish combat progress.
“Sword Pills aren’t for the unworthy. Only Nascent Soul cultivators can endure them.” Hunyuanzi chuckled. “Else the world would drown in swordsmen.”
Master and disciple bantered merrily, envisioning the sect’s glorious revival—300 sword immortals ruling the martial world.
Finally, they began forging Sword Pills—a daunting task requiring rare ingredients. Thankfully, Empress Ming’s support and bountiful agricultural planets like Remon and Sacred Bear provided ample resources.
Yet the intricate recipes overwhelmed Yang Hao. Sword Pills weren’t standalone—they formed three major systems (Offense, Defense, Ambush), comprising 15 types total. Each technique demanded a specific pill for full potency.
Offense aligned with fire, complementing Yang Hao’s Flame Sword. Defense focused on ice (Ice Blade), ideal for survival. But Ambush fascinated him most—his Invisible Sword, paired with nascent soul projection, promised lethality beyond detection.
Imagine: an undetectable nascent soul wielding an invisible blade. The perfect assassination tool.
After Hunyuanzi’s breakdown, Yang Hao grasped the Alchemy Sect’s swordsmanship framework. Offense mirrored his existing fiery style—easiest to master. Defense was alien but vital for survival. Ambush, however, revolutionized stealth—no longer just concealment, but true invisibility via nascent soul projection.
The path ahead was clear.
The basic three categories were attack, defense, and stealth. The attack sword style was mainly fire-based, perfectly matching Yang Hao’s Flame Sword. The defense sword style was mainly ice-based, corresponding to the Ice Blade. However, Yang Hao’s favorite was stealth. After mastering the invisible sword, it had already become Yang Hao’s best weapon for killing.
After listening to Huan Yuanzi’s detailed explanation, Yang Hao finally understood the general direction of the Dan Ding Sect’s sword techniques. Among them, the attack category was closest to his long-standing Flame Sword moves, so it was the easiest to learn. The defense sword moves were the least familiar to him, and he didn’t know how to use them at first. But Huan Yuanzi said this should be the best move for saving his life.
What Yang Hao was most concerned about was the stealth category moves, which were quite different from the previous stealth techniques. The new stealth sword moves actually involved the Nascent Soul attacking and could truly make the attacker’s form invisible.
Just imagine, if no one could see the Nascent Soul, combined with Yang Hao’s invisible sword, wouldn’t killing people be super awesome?
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