High Martial: I Grind Professions

Chapter 243: Chapter 159: Scholar Lv. 13, Descending the Mountain, Saber Soul

He had to possess a life-saving trump card, one powerful enough to escape from a top-tier Marquis, before he could step out of the mountain gates.

Otherwise, leaving the mountain wouldn’t be a journey of experience; it would be a death sentence.

His mind was a turbulent sea, but Li Wen quickly composed himself.

He washed up, had a simple yet meticulously prepared Spiritual Energy breakfast from the logistics department, and then went to his study.

After grinding out his daily six hours of scholar experience and eating lunch, he changed into his training clothes and headed to the private training ground in his courtyard.

The moment the cold iron battle blade was in his hand, its icy touch scattered the last of his stray thoughts.

His lv13 Scholar skill, ”Absolute Focus,” activated. Time seemed to freeze around him. His entire world narrowed to the low hum of the cold iron blade cutting through the air, and the glimmers of Blade Intent that continuously surged, evolved, and attempted to merge within his sea of consciousness.

The sun crept westward. In the training grounds, the field of Absolute Focus that had been sustained for four and a half hours slowly dissipated.

Li Wen retracted his blade and stood still, his chest rising and falling gently.

Today was not just his birthday; another matter weighed heavily on his mind.

Today was the day Ling Feng was to leave the mountain.

This genius disciple, who had spent six long years buried in arduous cultivation at Xinhuo Academy, had finally passed the school’s strict criteria for graduation and was about to head to the frontlines.

Ling Feng was a calm and reserved man with a solid foundation in his cultivation and extraordinary talent. Despite being a top genius, he had still taken things one step at a time to get where he was today, earning him the respect of many disciples.

Night fell, and a cold moon hung high in the sky.

The mountain wind howled like a mournful cry as it passed through the gorge.

To one side of the Feixing Society’s residential plaza, the open-air farewell banquet for Ling Feng was drawing to a close.

Nearly all the elite disciples of the Flying Star Level were in attendance.

At the center of the crowd stood Ling Feng, dressed in simple combat fatigues. At his waist hung the battle blade he had honed for countless years. His usual sharpness was gone, replaced by a subtle reservation that came from years of tempering, and a grim resolve for the battlefield that awaited him.

The atmosphere was solemn, yet filled with a heroic spirit.

”Everyone, take care.” Ling Feng cupped his fist and scanned the crowd. His voice wasn’t loud, but it reached every person’s ears clearly.

His gaze swept across them all—faces familiar and unfamiliar, symbols of six years of camaraderie and the enduring brand of the Xinhuo legacy.

”Senior Brother Ling, kill some Great Demons for us!”

”Safe travels!”

”Come back alive for a drink!” Blessings and well-wishes rose and fell, thick with worry and anticipation.

The cold moonlight washed over the crowd. The wind whipped at the corners of their robes and billowed the banners, filling the air with a desolate, heroic sorrow.

For the students of Xinhuo, this was a final moment of tranquility, a collective farewell before the bloody frontlines.

The banquet ended, and the crowd began to thin.

Li Wen did not leave immediately.

He saw Ling Feng, who seemed to be waiting for him, walking in his direction.

The two walked to a more distant cliff edge, overlooking the vast lands below, a world that concealed endless danger.

”Junior Brother Li, in all my years on this mountain, you are the most... dazzling person I have ever seen.” Ling Feng’s voice was remarkably calm in the cold wind.

”Ninth Layer Perfection, peerless blade techniques... your future is boundless. I’d love to see the kind of light you’ll shine with on the battlefield.”

Li Wen nodded slightly. ”You flatter me, Senior Brother.”

”It’s not praise, it’s a fact.” Ling Feng turned his head, his gaze as sharp as a blade. ”But I am going for one reason only: to kill more of the Demon Race, to claim one more foot of soil, and to buy a little more... time, for those who will come after.”

His words were simple and unadorned, yet they carried immense weight. ”You’re different. Your talent surpasses even mine. You may have to bear a greater burden: hope. The world below is far more treacherous than you can imagine. Please, be careful. And... don’t let down the expectations that come with your Ninth Layer Perfection.”

He clapped Li Wen firmly on the shoulder. The force wasn’t strong, yet it seemed to carry the weight of a solemn entrustment:

”Protecting the legacy of Xinhuo isn’t easy. I’ll be waiting for you out there.”

After speaking, Ling Feng showed no trace of hesitation. His body shot up from the ground, transforming into a meteor that streaked across the dark night.

Filled with the resolve of one on a one-way journey, he flew alone toward the deep, unknown darkness below, quickly vanishing into the vast night.

Only Li Wen remained on the cliff’s edge.

He stared for a long time in the direction Ling Feng had disappeared, that resolute figure seeming to merge as one with the endless darkness below.

The mountain wind grew stronger, chilling him to the bone. The sorrow of parting, the sense of longing, the responsibility to protect, the threat of the Demon Race, the craving for power, the helplessness in the face of the mountain’s ban, the image of his parents’ graying hair, and that subtle, elusive block in his blade art that he could never quite overcome... a hundred emotions suddenly churned within his heart.

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration, like a bolt of lightning, exploded in his sea of consciousness!

It was as if the final, mysterious veil obscuring the bright moon had been utterly torn away by an unseen hand.

His mind cleared in an instant. ’What is a Blade Soul? It’s one’s will condensed to the absolute extreme! It’s the fusion of the will to protect and the will to annihilate, melded into the edge of the blade! It is where the heart yearns, where the soul is bound, and where the blade is aimed!’

’It must not only shatter an opponent’s defense, but also cleave through the demonic miasma shrouding the world, slash through all obstacles and shackles, and point toward the place your heart yearns to protect and to which it longs to return!’

’The Blade Intents of the Five Forms that I could never merge weren’t failing because of a lack of skill, but because I was missing this ”intent” and ”will”—the kind that fuses into your very marrow and ignites your Soul Fire!’

The barrier that had plagued him for months shattered instantly!

There was no time to return to Nine Heavens Peak. A spark of inspiration like this was fleeting.

Li Wen’s body moved like a flash of lightning. He spun around and shot toward a nearby public training ground, one open to all Flying Star disciples.

A few scattered disciples were still inside the training ground, honing their techniques.

Ignoring everyone else, Li Wen grabbed a practice blade from the nearest weapon rack.

The moment the blade was in his hand, an unprecedented feeling of perfect, seamless clarity spread from his palm through his entire body and soul.