259: Chapter 259: Practice and Consolidation, Deduction Completed

The day after the Chamber of Commerce meeting—Lu Changyuan did not return to the Chamber of Commerce district.

Before the hour of the Dragon, he was already standing on the training ground of the Wei Family Private Soldiers' garrison.

Shadow One and Shadow Two were already waiting there—the two had changed out of their dark cotton robes.

Deep gray soft armor was exposed—the Wei Family's dark gold sword pattern on the armor plates did not reflect light in the morning sun.

Their short swords were already unsheathed—the tips hanging less than half an inch from the ground—the two stood exactly as they had before their coordinated attack demonstration in the backyard yesterday: three zhang apart, center of gravity shifted to the left foot—the starting stance.

There was no one else on the training ground.

Elder Wei Changfeng had cleared the area—on the day after signing the six Spirit Contracts in the Fortress Chamber of Commerce district, the Private Soldiers' training ground had been specially cleared for an entire morning.

Only three people stood in the natural depression surrounded by reef mountains—Lu Changyuan, Shadow One, and Shadow Two.

The pale white scratches worn into the stone floor by decades of military boots were spread across the ground in the morning light.

Shadow One moved first.

Her sword flicked from bottom to top—not aiming for the throat, but for the left shoulder.

The short sword's blade was nearly half a chi shorter than the standard issue—within a distance of less than three chi, changing moves was nearly twice as fast as a long sword.

Lu Changyuan blocked horizontally—the moment the scabbard and blade clashed, the force traveled from the blade through the web of his thumb to his forearm—vibrating so hard that his right hand holding the sword slid back less than half an inch.

Shadow One had pulled back nearly thirty percent of her strength—it was control, not holding back.

To be able to pull back a full-power strike of a Late Foundation Establishment Stage Cultivator to the exact point where the opponent could block it but not stand steadily—required precise control of her own spiritual power output down to every last strand.

Lu Changyuan gripped the sword hilt again—adjusted his stance—and lowered his center of gravity by half an inch.

The anti-slip beast skin wrapped around the hilt wound clockwise from the bottom of the hilt toward the guard—when his right hand gripped the sword, the web of his thumb pressed against the starting end of the skin strip, getting tighter the harder he gripped.

Shadow Two pressed in from the right.

Her sword style was different from Shadow One's.

Shadow One was fast—three consecutive sword stabs toward the left shoulder, right leg, and left waist—the interval between each strike was less than half a breath.

Shadow Two was heavy—a single sword strike hacking from top to bottom, the blade trailing a faint dark gold spiritual light in mid-air—the force of the hack was nearly double that of Shadow One's.

The force of her left leg pushing off the ground was nearly twenty percent greater than her right leg—the angle of her center of gravity leaning forward perfectly superimposed her body weight and spiritual power output onto the heaviest first strike.

Two sword lights—one fast and one heavy—closed in from two directions.

Lu Changyuan took one step back.

Then a second step.

By the third step, his heel hit a very deep pale white scratch on the stone floor—the groove worn by decades of military boots happened to catch his heel.

There was nowhere left to retreat.

He held his sword horizontally in front of him—hard-receiving Shadow Two's heavy hack.

The blade was pressed down nearly two inches—the veins on his wrist bulged from under the skin—but the sword did not slip from his hand.

Shadow One circled behind him as he received the heavy hack.

The fast sword blocked his retreat—the tip of the sword hovered less than half a chi from the back of his neck—suspended.

"My Lord—forgive me."

Shadow One's sword retracted.

Shadow Two retracted her sword at the same time—the sound of the latch clicking when the short sword returned to its scabbard was less than half a breath later than Shadow One's.

Lu Changyuan inserted the sword back into the sword rack.

The first day—he could only defend passively.

Shadow One's fast sword blocked his retreat, Shadow Two's heavy slash pressed from the front—the rhythm of their coordinated attack—left no gap for reaction between the two attacks.

The purpose of the fast sword—was to divert the defender's attention from the heavy slash for less than half a breath.

That less than half a breath—was the window for the heavy slash to break the defense line.

Lu Changyuan stood at the edge of the training ground—replaying the sword paths of the three blocks just now in his mind.

He noticed that before Shadow One delivered the third fast stab—her left foot would retract less than half an inch.

Before Shadow Two hacked down with a heavy slash—her right pinky finger would first hook the counterweight ball at the end of the sword hilt up by less than half a li.

These micro-movements lasted less than half a breath during the battle—but they were the metronome of the coordinated attack rhythm.

The second day—he began to find counterattack windows in the gaps of the coordinated attacks.

Shadow One's fast sword stabbed from the left—when the tip was less than half a chi from his left shoulder, Lu Changyuan did not block horizontally with his sword.

He tilted his blade—at a forty-five-degree angle—letting Shadow One's sword tip stab onto the flat of his blade.

Not a hard block—but borrowing force.

The impact force of the sword tip stabbing onto the blade caused his blade to bounce outward by less than half an inch—he used this rebound force to deflect his blade—stabbing diagonally.

The tip of his sword pointed toward Shadow Two's right arm which was about to be raised—that heavy hack was just raised to mid-air, less than three inches below the blade—Lu Changyuan's sword tip was already there.

Shadow Two retracted the heavy hack—stepped back half a step.

As she stepped back half a step—Shadow One filled the position where Shadow Two had just been standing.

The distance between the two shrank from three zhang to less than two zhang—the defensive density of the coordinated attack formation rose sharply.

But when Shadow One filled the position—her left foot ground less than half a circle on the stone floor.

She was adjusting her center of gravity—a transitional posture from leaning on her left leg to between her left and right legs.

In the footwork of the Late Foundation Establishment Stage—the duration of this transitional posture did not exceed half a breath.

But Lu Changyuan saw it.

He did not pursue.

He retracted his sword—readjusted the distance—letting the distance between the two open back up to three zhang.

Shadow One steadied her left foot—exchanged a look with Shadow Two.

The two did not speak—but the habitually unrevealed emotion in their eyes flickered.

This young Lord at the Late Foundation Establishment Stage—had found the gap for filling positions in the coordinated attack formation during the second sparring session.

The third day—less than half an incense stick after the hour of the Dragon—after three consecutive blocks, the spiritual power in Lu Changyuan's body suddenly accelerated as if ignited.

A stream of extremely fine and sharp spiritual power surged from the deepest part of his Dantian—different from the warm sensation of spiritual power washing against the inner walls of his Meridians.

It started from the Dantian—rushed upward along the Ren and Du Meridians—stopped for less than half a breath when it reached the Shanzhong point on his chest—then retracted.

As it retracted—the tail end of the pulse rippled a faint, non-Foundation Establishment Stage spiritual power ripple in his Dantian.

The False Core Bottleneck.

He had touched it.

Lu Changyuan stopped in place—his sword tip hanging less than three inches from the ground.

He stood motionless—pressing all his attention into his Dantian.

The spiritual power pulse had already retreated—shrinking into a tiny dot deep in the Dantian.

But the texture of that dot—was completely different from the spiritual power of the Foundation Establishment Stage.

Foundation Establishment Stage spiritual power was like flowing water—continuous, uniform, constant speed.

False Core level spiritual power was like a heartbeat—pulsed, discontinuous, every beat carried extremely subtle Spiritual Pressure fluctuations.

After the Spirit Wine marrow cleansing, the meridian patency was nearly twenty percent higher—this allowed him to push his spiritual power operation speed to the edge of the False Core threshold while still in the Late Foundation Establishment Stage.

Having walked nearly a hundred steps in the Spirit-Suppressing Formation—his internal spiritual power had been squeezed inward from all directions at least dozens of times, and the toughness of his meridian walls had been pressed to be another layer denser than before.

The extreme sparring with Shadow One and Shadow Two for three consecutive days—the flow speed of spiritual power forced out of the Dantian during each block—was nearly twice as fast as normal combat.

These three things superimposed together—pushed him to the critical line of the False Core Bottleneck.

Shadow One and Shadow Two retracted their swords simultaneously.

They saw Lu Changyuan's sword tip hanging to the ground, his breathing stopped for nearly three breaths, the spiritual light ring on the outer circle of his pupils changed from a very faint ghostly blue to a deeper blue-black in less than half a breath—then changed back.

"My Lord needs rest."

Shadow One inserted her short sword back into the scabbard at her waist—walked to Lu Changyuan's side—but did not support him.

The training manual of the Wei Family Secret Guards stated—do not support the Lord when he is on the verge of a Breakthrough.

A Breakthrough is the Cultivator's own battle—someone else's hand intervening would only interfere with the self-regulation of spiritual power.

Lu Changyuan stood for nearly ten breaths—then raised his sword.

He held the sword horizontally in front of him—fingers pressed on the blade—feeling the False Core level spiritual power pulse that had shrunk to a tiny size flickering in the depths of his Dantian.

Touching it—did not mean breaking through.

From touching the Bottleneck to truly breaking through—there was still a path to walk.

But he knew now—his path was correct.

That night—just as the cold light stone lamp by the training ground lit up—Special Commissioner Wei Yuan stood up from the stone stool.

The sensor line of the small contact Formation Plate at his waist was flashing.

Pale green spiritual power pulses rippled outward along the dozen sensor lines on the edge of the Formation Plate—all sensor lines lit up simultaneously; messages flashed one by one would not trigger this kind of full-array pulse.

Messages that could trigger this kind of full-array pulse—only came from the encrypted formation Dao of the Blue Moon Island Chart Room.

Special Commissioner Wei Yuan took off the Formation Plate—placed it on the stone table.

Four characters appeared on the Spirit Stone panel in the middle of the Formation Plate—the handwriting was Old Mo's handwritten charcoal pen style.

The strokes of each character were written nearly half shorter than normal—the old Formation Master who had been deducing for days had no extra spiritual power to waste on writing:

"Deduction complete."

Lu Changyuan inserted his sword back into the sword rack.

The sound of the scabbard mouth and rack mouth fitting together—was crisper than usual.

"Notify Leng Feng. Prepare the flying boat. We leave tonight."

Special Commissioner Wei Yuan nodded—his fingers were already tapping a reply on the Formation Plate.

Spiritual power pulses were injected one by one along the sensor lines of the Formation Plate—the interval between each pulse was less than half a breath—nearly twice as fast as the speed at which he sent messages before coming to the fortress.

When the fingertips of the deep gray leather glove on his left hand slid over the sensor lines of the Formation Plate—the wrist of the glove did not slide down again.

It was tucked into the cuff of his cloth garment—tucked in by nearly half an inch.

Lu Changyuan picked up his outer robe from the edge of the training ground—walked toward the gate of the Private Soldiers' garrison.

Shadow One and Shadow Two followed three steps behind him—no need for orders.

Their luggage was not anywhere—the entire luggage of a Secret Guard was that short sword at their waist.

When walking out of the Private Soldiers' garrison—the night sky was already dark.

On the stone road of the Zhenhai Fortress inner city, the cold light stone lamps cast the shadows of the three in front—the length of the shadows was nearly twice as long as at the hour of the Dragon.

Lu Changyuan stopped at the corner—turned back to look at the dark gold sword pattern filled with verdigris in the fine details.

Three days ago—he stood under this sword pattern and watched for nearly half an incense stick, looking at the establishment, looking at the drill frequency, looking at weapon maintenance.

Three days later—he had memorized the establishment, woven the Chamber of Commerce network, and pushed his cultivation to the threshold of the False Core.

Special Commissioner Wei Yuan caught up from behind—the Formation Plate had been hung back at his waist— "Leng Feng has replied. The flying boat is ready. The stealth Array Pattern has been checked—the Spirit-Hiding Formation Plate on the bottom of the boat was just taken from Old Mo. He will wait at the Blue Moon Island Pier. Also—" he paused— "Old Mo said to tell you not to sleep on the way back. He has something to show you in person. Not a formation route map—it's something else."

"What thing?"

"He didn't say. Just said—'Let him see it for himself'."

Lu Changyuan quickened his pace.

The stone building was already at the corner ahead—Chu Yunfei was leaning against the door frame, holding an unlit cold light stone lantern in his hand.

When he saw Lu Changyuan, he raised the lantern by half a chi—the lamp was not lit, but his action of holding the lamp was the same as holding a full cup of wine— "The flying boat is waiting at the Pier. Elder Wei Changfeng is already at the Pier—he said he has a few words to say to you in person."

Zhenhai Fortress Inner Harbor Pier.

In the night—the sentry Puppets on the breakwater had been changed to the night shift.

The stone eyes of the Late Foundation Establishment Stage Puppets lit up simultaneously—the ghostly blue sensor light scanned across the water surface, sweeping out fish scale patterns that shimmered with a very faint copper color in the night wind.

On the Pier—Elder Wei Changfeng was still wearing the formal robe from the Chamber of Commerce meeting, the dark gold trim on the cuffs flickering under the cold light stone lamps.

The stealth flying boat was parked behind him—the density of the protective Array Pattern was nearly twice as high as that of an ordinary flying boat, and the Spirit-Hiding Formation Plate at the bottom of the boat emitted a very faint ghostly blue spiritual light in the night.

"The first batch of goods—was moved into the six warehouses near Piers thirty-six to forty-two this afternoon. Six Chambers of Commerce—a total of thousands of Spirit-Returning Pills, thousands of Talismans for breaking restrictions, hundreds of mine-detecting Formation Plates. Stored separately—each warehouse does not store enough to attract attention."

Elder Wei Changfeng fished a stack of cargo manifests from his sleeve—the paper corners of the manifests were blown upward by the sea breeze— "I will watch the goods for you. You go back—open that door."

"Chu Yunfei will remain in the fortress. He knows the ins and outs of the Chamber of Commerce district better than you. For the Spirit Contracts—find him to reconcile the accounts."

"Understood."

Elder Wei Changfeng stuffed the cargo manifest back into his sleeve—then fished out another thing from his sleeve.

That Core Formation Stage Cultivator level protective jade Talisman—half a palm in size—the jade quality did not reflect light under the cold light stone lamp, but the embedded micro-sensor Array Pattern flashed a very faint dark gold shimmer after sensing Elder Wei Changfeng's spiritual power fluctuation.

"This jade Talisman—I have no use for it. But the person setting the trap holds it—they have confidence. Like you said—I need it more than you do."

He stuffed the jade Talisman into Lu Changyuan's hand.

Lu Changyuan did not take it.

"Elder—I currently have two Late Foundation Establishment Stage coordinated attack specialists by my side. They can block a Golden Core Early Stage strike in less than half a breath. Who do you have?"

Elder Wei Changfeng's hand stopped in mid-air—stopped for nearly three breaths.

Then he took the jade Talisman back—stuffed it back into the outermost interlayer of his sleeve's inner pocket where it was most convenient to reach.

"Then you promise me one thing."

"What thing?"

"Come out of it alive. If you die—this game outside will fall apart."

Lu Changyuan nodded—turned and boarded the flying boat.

Shadow One and Shadow Two followed behind him—the two's steps boarding the flying boat were perfectly synchronized.

Special Commissioner Wei Yuan was the last to board—he turned to look at Elder Wei Changfeng before boarding.

The clan uncle stood on the Pier—the hem of his casual clothes was blown to the west by the night wind—exactly the same posture as when he was looking at the pile of Ore at the Blue Moon Island Pier back then.

Only this time he had two more things in his sleeve: six Spirit Contracts—and a jade Talisman.

The flying boat took off.

The protective Array Patterns lit up layer by layer starting from the bottom of the boat—when it lit up to the middle of the boat body, the Spirit-Hiding Formation Plate started, the light of the Array Patterns was pressed inward by one layer—pressed until only a circle of barely noticeable dark light remained in the night.

Chu Yunfei squatted on the breakwater of the Pier—the cold light stone lantern was never lit—he raised the unlit lamp and waved it toward the flying boat.

The farewell method of a Chamber of Commerce broker—no need for a lamp, he knew where he was himself.

The black shadow skimmed over the city wall of the Zhenhai Fortress outer city—rounded the natural sea erosion arch on the outermost edge of the reef mountains—and turned toward the direction of Blue Moon Island.

The speed of the flying boat was nearly twenty percent faster than when they came—with the wind.

When the night wind scraped over from the sea, it was mixed with extremely fine salt grains—hitting the protective Array Patterns on the boat body and popping out sounds of extremely light and dense cracking—like the muffled trembling sound of ice cracking under the water surface.

Lu Changyuan did not enter the cabin.

He stood at the bow—aimed the observation telescope toward the sea surface in the direction of the Dragon Burial Trench.

Inside the telescope—the dark gold light pillar under the sea surface was nearly twice as thick as when he left Blue Moon Island in the night.

It couldn't be seen during the day—covered by sunlight.

But at night—there was no sunlight interference between the seawater and the night sky, and the outline of the dark gold light pillar was so clear in the telescope that one could count that there was a ring of outward-rippling spiritual power waves every less than half a li on the edge of the light pillar.

The frequency at which each ripple spread outward was at least several percent faster than when observed last time.

He lowered the telescope by a few degrees—aimed at the position of the keyhole at the very bottom of the light pillar.

The outer layer of the Seal directly above the keyhole—a transparent film almost invisible to the naked eye—looked like an extremely thin and faint gold foil under the illumination of the dark gold light pillar.

The gold foil was trembling.

The frequency of the trembling made its edges occasionally blurry—occasionally clear.

The Seal was disintegrating—the gold foil was trembling.

The frequency of the trembling made its edges occasionally blurry—occasionally clear.

Disintegrated to the outermost layer, it was no longer solid—it was a layer of semi-liquid film repeatedly pulled by spiritual power waves.

He moved the observation telescope away from his eyes—his right hand reached into his sleeve—touched that black crystal.

The icy surface of the crystal pulsed in perfect synchronization with the light pillar in the direction of the Dragon Burial Trench under his fingertips—one bright and one dark, one contracting and one expanding—the frequency matched the disintegration acceleration marked on Old Mo's deduction paper line by line.

The Blood Restriction—had reached the critical point.