I Became the Martial God's Youngest Disciple

Episode 303

I stared at the lava before me and hesitated. Perhaps I was insane in many ways. No sane person, no matter how resistant to heat, would willingly consider immersing themselves in molten rock. Yet my dantian was drained, and the flowing lava seemed less like a path to death and more like a path to survival.

I trudged toward it as if in trance, only to stop. For a moment, I accepted that I had lost my reason. I had honed the First Fire Technique, so this immense heat was irresistibly alluring. It was like a sparrow before a mill or a cat before a cluster of mice. Like a flying insect drawn to the very flame that would burn it to ash, I felt bewitched by the lava's heat and nearly plunged into it.

It was too reckless. There was no need to go that far. The heat near the lava was more than abundant. I immediately sat down cross-legged and started circulating my internal energy, something I hadn't done in some time.

I inhaled the warm air and absorbed the heat rising from the ground through my skin. The vast natural heat soon transformed into the unique energy that martial artists could wield: internal energy.

My dantian refilled faster than I expected.

It made sense. The First Fire Technique depended heavily on the surrounding environment. This was why I usually performed my internal energy circulation when the sun was up. However, sunlight wasn't essential. Any place rich in heat, such as a volcanic region, a field with raging fire, or a sunny beach, could produce better results.

The lava here was a pure manifestation of nature, a massive reservoir of circulating energy. If I could fully absorb it and make it my own, could I turn this situation around?

Doubts crept in. How many unexpected things had already occurred within this cursed ice cave formed from Ymir's body?

No matter how thoroughly prepared I was, this battlefield teemed with variables. I was bound to encounter difficulties. In such a place, would the meager internal energy gained through this passive internal energy circulation really be enough?

Suddenly, the cave ceiling trembled slightly, and stone fragments fell. When one piece dropped into the lava, I stopped my internal energy circulation and exhaled deeply. Then I rose and headed toward the lava.

I was well aware that I was about to do something crazy, but there was an enemy in this cave that I couldn't defeat unless I took that risk. If I rejoined the fight in my current state, with so little internal energy, I would be useless. Worse, I would become a burden.

That wouldn't be enough. I had to be helpful. I had to be able to change the course of the battle on my own. My senior had believed in me and in that possibility. He had sacrificed his life to bring me to this point.

Nonetheless, no matter how far I had mastered the First Fire Technique, nothing of me would remain if I threw my bare body into the lava. Therefore, I gathered what little internal energy I could and wrapped it around me.

"Huhu..." I didn't know why, but I couldn't help laughing at what I was about to do. The human mind could be strangely contradictory. Then, like someone easing into scalding water, I carefully dipped my toes into the lava and lowered myself in.

Heat struck at once, and a burning, searing pain assaulted me. I yanked my foot back on instinct, alarm bells ringing like crazy in my mind. Pain was basically the body's warning system, a clear signal that pushing any further would destroy it and should be avoided. Honestly, that brief contact left me reeling. To put it simply, it hurt like hell.

I ignored the warning and immersed the rest of my body. I endured a temperature that could melt stone with nothing but flesh and blood. I truly learned what it meant to be cooked alive. This was no slow boil like a toad in a pot. It was closer to a chicken dropped into water already at a rolling boil.

Moments ago, I was rolling on ice. Now I am immersed in lava... I suddenly felt like my life was really ridiculous. Still, I didn't melt, thanks to the concentrated internal energy wrapped around me.

Of course, that technique consumed a lot of internal energy. In my current state, it was hard to maintain it for even ten seconds. Thus, I converted the heat I extracted from the lava into internal energy and refined it back into concentrated energy.

It sounded simple. It was anything but. The process was complex and dangerous. Even someone with three brains would struggle to manage it. The heat within the lava was lethal.

What would happen if I embraced this raw energy without refining it? Simply put, it would surge through every vein like molten metal heated to its limit. No matter how well trained a warrior was, the body would melt from inside out.

However, I felt confident in this daunting task. After more than 100 days of training on Spirit Mountain and countless struggles to descend, I had learned to adapt quickly to complex situations.

Of course, adaptation did not make the task any easier. The seething lava often shifted in ways that defied my expectations, and each misstep sent a surge of scorching pain through me. One mistake in the wrong place would make me cough up blood and die on the spot. The constant risk kept me on edge, cold sweat breaking out under the strain.

No, wait. Cold sweat? I was actually half-submerged in lava. Sweat couldn't stay cold in this heat. It burned!

That useless thought sent a burning pain through my abdomen.

Focus. I need to focus. Even with my full attention, I could barely keep up. The flow could reverse at any moment, so I had to treat it as a deliberate process for now: feel nature, extract energy from it, convert it into internal energy, and release it again as concentrated energy.

Converting internal energy into concentrated energy consumed an enormous amount, but the energy I could draw from the lava was even greater. As a result, the faster I converted it, the more my dantian filled.

Ah. At some point, I realized that my surroundings had brightened. Could this be considered a White Flame state?

This was the first time I had entered the White Flame state while circulating internal energy. My body had overheated beyond its limits. However, the flames leaking from me were much thicker than usual, surging around me like the sun's red blaze.

How much time had passed? By the time the lava's heat felt like mere warmth, I decided it was enough.

I emerged from the lava. Warmth coursed through my entire body, and I could feel a significant, temporary surge in my physical performance.

My current state wouldn't last long. I had to defeat the enemy as soon as possible before this enhancement faded.

***

I loosened my fists and approached the legion commander. I had managed to land a sneak attack, but my knuckles felt stiff and sore, as if I had struck a steel beam.

That punch was augmented by the White Flame state, yet it felt like this? That strike should have been powerful enough to break actual iron.

The legion commander's appearance struck me as odd.

A monk? During my time on Spirit Mountain, my master had occasionally tossed me a few martial arts books to read. The ones that left the deepest impression described monks who devoted themselves to martial training.

Those monks underwent physical training in pursuit of strength and shared some similarities with the Seventy-Two Churches' inquisitors. However, their essence was completely different. The monks trained not for power alone, but to look inward, gain enlightenment, and reach nirvana.

Why the hell would someone like that serve as a legion commander?

At that moment, I recalled the Book of the Birth of Heavenly Evil that Senior Sister Tian had given me. The passages describing the seventy-two evil spirits surfaced in my memory.

Meanwhile, the legion commander slammed its staff against the ground.

What a strange-looking staff.

"Above! Avoid it!" someone screamed, warning me.

The voice sounded familiar, and I moved at once. Then a gravestone crashed down where I had stood.

What's with this gravestone? Moreover, where did it come from? What a sadistic attack. I dodged the rapidly falling gravestones. They moved at unnatural speed, as if ignoring the laws of physics. Without the White Flame state, I wouldn't have been able to avoid them.

Naturally, endless evasion would achieve nothing. Before the staggering legion commander could do something else, I released the power of Crowtaker.

"Salpha."

The wind spirit responded immediately.

The red flames around me darkened, and a single wing sprouted from my back. In an instant, I narrowed the distance to the legion commander and struck three times in quick succession. My next attack met the staff he thrust forward to block.

The impact made my knuckles tremble. This staff's material was as unusual as the legion commander's frame.

"Shaaaaah...!" The legion commander let out a harsh cry and swung the staff wildly at me.

Startled, I stepped back and blocked the attack. It brought the weapon down on me with force, using it like a club to keep me pinned.

This is a big fella, yet it wields the staff with the speed and precision of a skilled spearman. As the fight continued, I realized its strikes were not random. Each movement followed a clear form and structure. It had professional training in staff techniques.

The relentless barrage left my hands and feet numb, and I couldn't help recalling my fight with Feed. The legion commander's offense was fierce, but less varied than Feed's. The experience from that spar was now working in my favor.

Besides, against an opponent this large, closing in was easier. I lowered my stance and slipped beneath the legion commander, then sprang upward and stretched out my fist.

White Sun Style's 3rd Move, Rising Fire!

The red flames around my fist clashed violently with the flames burning from the legion commander's face. It seemed like the heat of my fist, fresh from the lava, burned hotter. I extinguished the flames on its face and completely shattered it.

The earlier strike to its face had been worth it. The accumulated damage helped me break through.

The legion commander let out a strange scream and collapsed. The flames on its face dimmed, flickering like a dying bonfire.

"H-he overwhelmed that legion commander and knocked it down?"

"What the hell is with that boy?"

"Golden Fairy... Golden Fairy Luan Badniker!"

"The Iron-Blooded Lord's offspring saved us!"

As the crowd erupted in cheers, I clenched my fists and glared at the fallen legion commander. The flames obscured its face, but the sensation when I struck it lingered. It had felt like shattering porcelain. Strangely, it had also felt hollow, like striking an empty shell.

I ignored the noise around me and silently watched the legion commander. Then I shifted my gaze to the staff it had been holding.

A beast's skull crowned the tip of the staff, ghost fire still burning in its hollow eye sockets. Even with its master dead, the flames had not gone out. It continued to glare at me.

No way, this bastard—

Green flames suddenly erupted like an explosion. In an instant, my vision turned white, and I could faintly see a dark shape approaching me.

I immediately drew the Seven Sins Sword and raised it to block.

Baaang!

The attacker was a dark tentacle that had emerged from under the legion commander's clothes. It was as thick as a log and struck me with tremendous force. It sent me flying dozens of meters before I could regain my footing.

Damn. In the midst of the green flames, I saw the fully resurrected legion commander again. It spat blood-tinged saliva and wiped the corners of its mouth. Just then, a familiar weapon caught my eye as it rolled across the ground. It was a uniquely shaped spear.

"Captain Feed is dead."

At the grim voice, I turned and saw a somewhat familiar face. It was Zach from Frostel, one of the clan leaders who had pressured me on the day I was about to join Corrupted. At this point, however, that detail no longer mattered.

Zach said, "Dodging the gravestones was a wise decision. If one lands on you, it usually means death. If you don't have the strength of a giant..."

I scanned the battlefield. As if they had been waiting for me to fall back, the remaining heroes and northern warriors charged at the legion commander.

"Kyaaaaah!" the legion commander roared. It swung its staff and spread its tentacles in all directions. Each strike swept the warriors away like fallen leaves in an autumn wind.

"It resurrected..." Zach muttered. "Didn't you just knock him down with your attack?"

I replied, "I did. However, that body isn't its main one."

"What does that—"

"The staff that this bastard is holding," I cut in. "We have to smash it. If we don't, it will keep coming back to life."

"The staff. Oh gods..." Zach stared at it with a stiff expression. "The horned beast skull attached to the end of the staff... Is that the main body?"

"Probably. By the way, what was the situation like before I arrived?" I asked.

"I thought we were pushing it back, but the legion commander had one more move. It invoked the name of Kingarodtus and grew even stronger."

"How did you push it?" I pressed. "It must've been difficult with your current strength."

"I think it was improvisation. It seems vulnerable to sounds that echo in a steady rhythm. Like this..." Zach struck his staff on the ground to demonstrate, then continued, "I heard it make a slightly louder noise before it writhed in pain. It was like a demon tormented by a prayer chant during a proper exorcism ceremony."

"A constant rhythm, huh?" I muttered.

Is he referring to the sound of a temple's wooden fish? I clicked my tongue. For some reason, I believed a highly trained monk with potent energy would hold a clear advantage against this type of legion commander.

I did not have that kind of resource, so I could not help feeling frustrated. At the same time, it also means...

"Can we win?" Zach asked, as if he had read my expression.

"We have to win... I want to say that, but honestly, it will be difficult. I felt it during the fight just now. That staff's strength is beyond imagination," I replied.

I did not lack raw attack power. However, destructive power, the ability to break something, was a different matter. To shatter a solid object, I needed either overwhelming brute force or the right kind of weapon.

Simply put, even with the later moves of the White Sun Eclipse, breaking that staff with my fists would be difficult. I could stall and fight back for a time, but my White Flame state was temporary. Once the lava's heat ran out, the legion commander would tear me apart and kill me.

What if I use the Seven Sins Sword? It's probably better than fighting with my fists, but still... Its strength was undeniable, but it wasn't suited for breaking things. The same held true for the Yin-Yang Dao.

Zach asked, "What about Feed's belongings?"

At those words, I picked up Feed's spear. It's definitely an extraordinary weapon, but...

"It is difficult. I don't think I can fully handle this weapon's power. It is probably a weapon that chooses its master."

"I see..." Zach said, dispirited.

A weapon that chose its master... The words I had just spoken brought a certain image to mind. "There is one way."

"What is it?"

Ymir's stomach, eternal winter, a temple to withstand the ordeal of cold, and, at its center, a mythical weapon... That weapon took the form of a hammer, the finest instrument for smashing things.

I looked around and asked, "Where is Mir Giant?"