Chapter Ninety-One: Destiny

“Fiery Divine Radiance, pure yang and utmost truth. Refine the primordial spirit within, temper all things without.”

When Gao Wu awoke, only these four lines of incantation reverberated again and again in his mind.

He glanced at the Azure Dragon smart watch on his wrist. It was exactly six in the morning.

Despite a night of fierce battle and using his merit to upgrade the Vermilion Bird Divine Radiance Incantation, it hadn’t changed his lifelong habit of waking early—a small miracle in itself.

Gao Wu didn’t dwell on it; he opened the Infinite Merit Book. Only thirty thousand merit points remained.

The Vermilion Bird Divine Radiance Incantation had reached the stage of perfection.

Unlike the Azure Dragon Divine Qi Incantation, the Vermilion Bird Divine Radiance Incantation didn’t evolve into any new forms.

He checked his basic stats: his Spirit had increased by four points, now totaling fifteen.

Even though he’d anticipated it, Gao Wu was still deeply elated.

A genius like Song Mingyue had achieved her current accomplishments only through years of arduous cultivation since childhood.

Yet with the Infinite Merit Book, he’d quadrupled his spiritual power in a single night!

Gao Wu envied Song Mingyue’s ability to fly her sword through the air. Now, with fifteen points in Spirit, perhaps he could do the same.

Beyond the surge in Spirit, his Aptitude had increased by 0.5, reaching 7.5.

He felt that Aptitude represented talent. Because his talent was mediocre, even with the Infinite Merit Book and unlimited injections of potions, his progress in martial arts had been slow.

To this day, his Dragon Form Nine Styles and Soaring Dragon Sword were only at the proficient level. Only his Soldier’s Fist had advanced quickly, recently reaching proficiency as well.

If Song Mingyue’s talent could be quantified, her score would be at least fifteen... though her Spirit should also be around fifteen, he reckoned.

Gao Wu could only judge by intuition. For example, Aunt Lan, a mid-level warrior, had at most twelve points in Spirit—she would be unable to withstand a spirit shock from a spirit being.

Although Huang Hai was also a mid-level warrior, his Spirit was a bit stronger than Aunt Lan’s, but only just. After all, he couldn’t withstand Gao Wu’s Thunderflash technique.

Song Mingyue was much stronger than either of them, but given her age, she couldn’t be invincible.

Fifteen points seemed about right.

If Song Mingyue could fly her sword, he should be able to as well.

With this thought, Gao Wu’s gaze fell upon the thermos on his nightstand. At fifteen points Spirit, his perception was wondrously acute.

His small bedroom seemed quiet, but overhead, the ventilation system’s low hum vibrated, and air currents carried micro-dust from the vent, swirling through the room.

A faint smell of blood lingered in the air, mostly from bloodstains on his training garb. After a night of evaporation, the scent molecules were everywhere.

There was also a trace of sweat, and other indescribable odors.

Suddenly, Gao Wu understood Song Mingyue’s obsession with cleanliness—she changed clothes even just to drink tea. With such intense spiritual acuity, she would sense all these subtle, complex smells.

She had to maintain her fastidiousness to keep her senses as comfortable as possible. Then again, going to the bathroom must be torture for her...

Surely, perception could be adjusted; there was no need to torment oneself by focusing such powerful Spirit on trivial matters.

Gao Wu concentrated. Soon, he sensed the omnipresent source energy particles, and was delighted.

Previously, he’d never been able to sense these particles, so he couldn’t condense source energy or open his acupoints. Now, he’d taken a crucial step forward!

But right now, Gao Wu was not interested in source energy. He simply wanted to use his Spirit to lift the thermos.

It didn’t budge.

“Huh?” Gao Wu was puzzled—he couldn’t even lift a thermos?

He tried several more times, but it wouldn’t move. Nor could he lift the lighter carbon fiber pen.

After a few attempts, Gao Wu understood: his spiritual power, when projected, was like a kind of electromagnetic wave. It could penetrate some matter, but couldn’t interact with it physically. This was much like the characteristics of a yin-spirit.

So how did Little Song fly her sword? Was her spiritual power different?

His gaze fell upon the sword leaning by the door. Suddenly, he could sense the sword’s presence—there was a tight, stable connection between him and the weapon.

“This is... the yin-spirit!”

Only now did Gao Wu realize he’d overlooked the yin-spirit itself, elated by his surge in Spirit.

The yin-spirit, formed from crimson spiritual radiance, appeared as a glowing human figure, solid and corporeal, no longer as ethereal as before. It was many times more condensed and resilient.

The powerful yin-spirit and the sword had, at some point, merged into one.

“Fiery Divine Radiance, pure yang and utmost truth. Refine the primordial spirit within, temper all things without.” The four lines of the incantation surfaced in Gao Wu’s mind again.

He summoned the Infinite Merit Book and turned to the page of the Vermilion Bird Divine Radiance Incantation. Words surfaced, and he instantly understood the changes brought by its advancement.

At the stage of perfection, it hadn’t evolved into other arts, but simply amplified the Fiery Divine Radiance’s power—able to refine the soul within and smelt all things without.

With the incantation perfected, the yin-spirit had been tempered by the Fiery Divine Radiance, greatly enhanced.

The sword, as vessel of both yin-spirit and the Deathwing, had also been refined by the radiance, and now was completely under the yin-spirit’s control.

Even the Deathwing had been fused with the sword by the radiance.

Normally, a yin-spirit of this level couldn’t refine external objects. Only through the Deathwing could it refine the sword.

The crimson yin-spirit materialized, reaching out to draw the sword. The nineteen-kilogram weapon felt as light as a feather in the yin-spirit’s grasp. The ten-kilogram scabbard was effortlessly lifted in its other hand.

Though a yin-spirit couldn’t interact with matter, now, through the sword as medium, it could affect the physical world.

If the yin-spirit was a transmission wave, the sword was an automated mechanical device able to receive its signal.

Without such a device, no matter how many waves you emitted, nothing would happen. The sword thus became the essential bridge between the yin-spirit and reality.

With a thought, Gao Wu had the yin-spirit swing the sword in a beautiful flourish.

The nearly twenty-kilogram blade cut the air with a deep, sharp whistle, moving even faster than his physical self could manage.

And even then, the yin-spirit wasn’t actually exerting itself.

Gao Wu recited the Vermilion Bird Divine Radiance Incantation. At perfection, it took a minute to invoke. His physical self couldn’t store divine spells, but the yin-spirit could store six.

The sword in the yin-spirit’s hand flared crimson, imbued with the Fiery Divine Radiance.

The radiance reacted naturally with source energy, wreathed the blade in a layer of source-fire. Gao Wu realized that by channeling the radiance through the sword, his yin-spirit could cut through a warrior’s source field.

In fact, even without invoking the full spell, the yin-spirit could guide source energy through the sword—probably a trait inherited from the Deathwing.

In other words, the yin-spirit could wield the sword to slay warriors.

This exceeded all his expectations and filled him with delight.

He’d always needed to rely on sneak attacks like Thunderflash, or boosts like Gale, to fight warriors. The yin-spirit, being formless and intangible, was far faster than his physical body, both in movement and swordplay.

In battle, having the yin-spirit wield the sword was far safer than going himself.

Thunderflash and Gale might be clever tricks, but against experts like Little Song, they wouldn’t work—she’d never be shaken by Thunderflash. Charging in with his sword would only be suicide.

He tried various experiments. The yin-spirit could easily pass through walls, but the sword could not.

Though the sword’s physical properties had changed, it hadn’t become immaterial. The sword couldn’t phase through things.

Another important change: a ridged spine now ran straight down the center of the blade, giving it a cold, murderous edge.

Through the yin-spirit, Gao Wu could sense a bloodthirsty malice in the sword.

He guessed it was due to the fusion of the contaminated Deathwing brought by Huang Hai, which imbued the sword with a baleful aura.

Recalling the Deathwing’s appetite for flesh, Gao Wu felt uneasy. Who knew if it posed a danger?

Thankfully, as the yin-spirit had thoroughly refined the sword, nothing could escape its notice. He could always use the Fiery Divine Radiance to purify it further—nothing hidden could survive.

At this point, Gao Wu finally felt he had stepped into the realm of the extraordinary.

He played with the sword through the yin-spirit for less than ten minutes before feeling an intense spiritual fatigue.

Controlling the yin-spirit and wielding the sword burned through his Spirit rapidly. This was just idle practice—if it were a real battle, the yin-spirit might not last a minute.

With a flash, the yin-spirit withdrew into Gao Wu’s brow, returning to the depths of his mind.

He understood now: the yin-spirit had only completely refined the sword, not merged with it. Its root remained in his own body.

After reciting the Vermilion Bird Divine Radiance Incantation dozens of times, he barely recovered.

It was already seven thirty, the sun likely rising outside. Gao Wu sent the yin-spirit out again.

The safehouse’s exterior walls were a meter of reinforced concrete—extremely sturdy. But to the yin-spirit, they appeared as murky gray light, no different from any other substance.

Outside, with the morning sun just up, the gentle rays made the yin-spirit feel as if it were burning all over, singed by fire.

After three minutes, the sunlit areas of the yin-spirit began to fade.

Gao Wu immediately recalled it—sunlight was extremely harmful to the yin-spirit.

This time, he had to recite the incantation a hundred times to restore it fully. Even with his level of Spirit, such intense chanting left him dizzy.

But Gao Wu didn’t care. Despite its limitations, the yin-spirit’s wonders far exceeded his imagination.

Full mastery of the sword via the yin-spirit offered another advantage—it was as nimble as his own hand, responsive to his will.

This enhanced connection allowed his Soaring Dragon Sword to break through to the minor mastery stage.

Through the Infinite Merit Book, Gao Wu could clearly see how the sword boosted his swordsmanship.

To awaken such powers—truly, destiny favored him! Gao Wu’s spirits soared; he had to commemorate this day of great transformation.

He took out his phone, searched for an appropriate font, and at once had the yin-spirit grip the sword. As he invoked the Vermilion Bird Divine Radiance, crimson flames surged along the blade.

Above the sword guard, two archaic characters were engraved: Destiny.

From this day forward, this sword would be named Destiny. He was now the one who wielded Destiny!

Suddenly, Gao Wu remembered he wasn’t going to class today. He needed to notify his homeroom teacher—especially the martial arts team coach, Song Yunhui.

He sighed. Even with Destiny in hand, one must still go with the flow—if you skip school, you must ask for leave...

By noon, Aunt Lan came to call Gao Wu for lunch.

Song Mingyue looked listless and unwell; the three of them ate some simple convenience food.

After the meal, Aunt Lan handed Gao Wu ten bottles of Gold Ginseng Elixir. “You and Mingyue stay here in the safehouse. I’m going out to check on things. Is this arrangement all right with you...?”

Her tone was entirely consultative. Previously, she’d appreciated Gao Wu as an elder appreciates a promising youth. Now, she regarded him as a peer, a fellow expert.

Gao Wu noticed the subtle change in Aunt Lan’s attitude, but didn’t mind.

Such was the reality of the martial world: show enough strength and, if the other is wise, respect will follow.

“Aunt Lan, you decide. I’ll watch over Mingyue,” Gao Wu replied.

Though he retained his combat strength, he wasn’t suited to act openly. Aunt Lan knew people and handled matters shrewdly—better to leave it to her.

He would stay and protect Little Song in the safehouse!

With Destiny in hand, who could oppose him?

Even if Wan Canglong came, he could put up a fight—right?

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