Chapter 34: The Mercy of the Master of the Pavilion

The sun had completely set, and the Obsidian Martial Arts Hall began a new day.

"Are there any new announcements today?"

Fang Zhen, who had just logged in, yawned and asked out of curiosity while looking at the crowd gathered in front of the notice board.

The time in *High Martial Arts Descent* was almost identical to real-world time, which forced Fang Zhen to undergo intensive training during the day and stream the game at night, keeping him on a twenty-four-hour cycle every day. It was no exaggeration to say that even a donkey on a collective farm worked less hard than him. The only consolation was that playing the game allowed his physical body in reality to rest; as long as he didn’t die and log out constantly, there was no real strain on his mind.

Even so, Fang Zhen felt like he was burning out. If it weren't for the fact that every time he logged out, he saw his stream's popularity hitting new highs, with the number of people waiting to play *High Martial Arts Descent* rising from thirty thousand to fifty thousand—and more viewers demanding he step aside so they could play—he might have chosen to slack off in the game. He could have followed the Master around, trying to coax some quest clues out of him.

"No new announcements, but there is a new cultivation technique," said the "Frontier Spearman," who had arrived earlier, looking quite tempted.

"A new technique? What is it?"

Fang Zhen was even more curious and walked up to check. Currently, there were only three techniques available at the Obsidian Martial Arts Hall, but each one was incredibly useful:

The *God-Startling Breathing Method* increased physical fitness, greatly improving work efficiency.
The *Stone-Crushing Fist* boosted explosive power, greatly improving work efficiency.
The *Leopard Shadow Step* enhanced movement speed, greatly improving work efficiency.

That’s right: every technique the Master taught could significantly increase work efficiency, allowing them to earn points much faster. Now that there was a new technique, it was undoubtedly another one that would boost their efficiency, bringing him one step closer to his new weapon.

*Stellar Explosion Visualization Method*: The top-tier visualization method for the Martial Artist rank. By visualizing a star exploding, one forces their own spirit to explode like a sun, thereby tempering the soul and will, and strengthening the spirit. (Required Hall Points: 1,000)

"Spearman, my eyes aren't deceiving me, are they?" Fang Zhen stared at the words "Martial Artist Rank"—it wasn't even split into volumes, and it cost only a thousand points. He deeply suspected he was hallucinating. "Is this the Master’s mercy, or is the Master glitching?"

The previous three techniques were all at the Martial Apprentice level, yet to master them all, one wouldn't even dare to dream of it without tens of thousands of points. Now, a Martial Artist-level visualization method cost only one thousand points; if anyone said this wasn't a bug, no one would believe it.

"I don't know, but I think we should exchange for it as soon as possible. Otherwise, once the system is patched, it will be hard to get," the Frontier Spearman said, shaking his head slightly with a hint of reluctance. "But one thousand points is still a bit high. Unless we take a portion of the points from the last dungeon run, we’ll have to work hard for a few more days to afford it."

"If the plan is delayed, so be it. If we miss this boat, there won't be another," Fang Zhen said, heading straight toward Lin Qi to exchange for the *Stellar Explosion Visualization Method* immediately.

The others present looked at each other and agreed with Fang Zhen. A thousand points—you couldn't go wrong with that. A Martial Artist-level technique was something they had never seen before, and it even tempered the spirit. Though they didn't know what tempering the spirit did in the game, practicing it couldn't hurt.

"Finally."

Lin Qi watched the players approaching and felt a sense of satisfaction. These players had swindled over twenty thousand points from him before; now, they were finally paying some of it back. As for why he didn't split the *Stellar Explosion Visualization Method* into volumes and sell them at a high price, the reason was simple: it wasn't that he didn't want to, but that he couldn't.

The entire *Stellar Explosion Visualization Method* consisted of one large diagram, a few small ones, and some text. How could he split that? By the word? By the diagram?

Moreover, to practice the *Stellar Explosion Visualization Method* was to literally risk exploding—you’d turn into an idiot in minutes. This was made very clear in the detailed explanation of the theory. It could be said that this method was a wild concept created by some crazy scientists over a hundred years ago. It existed only in theory; to learn it, one had to keep turning into an idiot. With such a坑 (trap) of a technique, if he didn't sell it cheaply, once a player exchanged for it and turned into a fool, who else would dare to learn it?

Of course, the players wouldn't actually remain idiots—it was just a matter of dying and respawning. But if they couldn't master it and didn't know what the specific effects were, no one would bother exchanging for it. Rather than letting it rot in his hands, it was better to sell it cheaply to the players and let them experience what a "stellar explosion" was all about.

In the martial arts hall's lounge, in no time at all, ten players each had a copy of the *Stellar Explosion Visualization Method*. Ten thousand points were consumed in an instant, which made Lin Qi very happy.

In the past, copying martial arts techniques—even just the first volume—took a long time, and his hands would be exhausted. But copying this was completely different. Lin Qi even cut out the diagrams from the theory manual and pasted them directly, adding his own text. It barely reached five pages in total. Compared to copying other techniques, this was a massive profit.

Moreover, the consumption of ten thousand points would keep these players focused on repairing the martial arts hall. After all, the tasks he gave them—patching walls and laying floors—offered far more points than exploration.

Lin Qi watched the players leave and shifted his gaze to the bottom of his vision.

*System: Task 1 'Fully Repair the Obsidian Martial Arts Hall', current repair progress: 4.7%.*

Over a hundred people had worked all day. If not for the players slacking off to dig holes, the progress would definitely have been over 5%.

"Should I go trade again and recruit more wanderers?" Lin Qi quickly shook his head. "No, this kind of trade can't be too frequent. I’ll wait a while."

Crocodile-Toothed Rhino meat was rare. Doing it secretly every few days was already risky enough. If he did it every day or two, he might as well be telling everyone that the meat he had was scavenged, and they should come and kill him.

Obsidian Martial Arts Hall, training ground.

*Bang!*
*Bang! Bang!*
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

Suddenly, the ten people repairing the walls each grabbed their heads and collapsed onto the floor one after another, their bodies convulsing. It was quite a spectacular sight to see ten people twitching at once.

"Damn, what kind of visualization method is this? It's too hard to practice! I've already died ten times," the Frontier Spearman said after respawning, looking at the diagram in his hand, feeling as if his wallet had just exploded.

"It's a Martial Artist-level technique for a reason; the difficulty is indeed high," "One Shot Dominates" nodded, before collapsing to the ground himself.

"You guys have it easy; you've only died a dozen times," "Twilight of the Gods" said, looking at the collapsed "One Shot Dominates" with a look of despair. "I've died over fifty times tonight. The people in my dorm think I’ve developed a nervous disorder. Every ten minutes, I wake up from my gaming pod screaming. They don't even dare to come near me now."

"It seems that besides Sister Wu and Sister Qingwei entering the introductory stage, everyone else is still far behind," the Frontier Spearman looked at "Floating Cloud" in the distance. "Floating Cloud" had barely lifted a hand to brush the wall before falling straight to the ground, dying again and again—the worst among them.

"I did it! I did it!"

With a roar, everyone looked at Fang Zhen, who stood up in excitement.

Fang Zhen’s nose and mouth were bleeding profusely, and his hands and feet moved as if they didn't belong to him—each limb, perhaps even every cell, had come alive with its own will. It was clear, as the book said, that he had mastered it; his control over his body had improved significantly, but he clearly wouldn't live much longer. It was incredibly life-consuming.

"It's getting late. I have a simulation match today, so I must go early. I won't practice with you all anymore."

Without another word, Fang Zhen spat out a mouthful of blood three feet high and collapsed to the ground. His corpse slowly faded from everyone's view—the whole process was unimaginably smooth, without a single wasted movement.

The others nodded and began to visualize the stellar explosion one by one.