Northern Yan Chapter Sixteen: The Sword Technique of Yan's Heart
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After completing the blood ritual with the Cold Paulownia Sword, Mo Hao was relieved. Had it not been for this small sword, his sudden descent into demonic frenzy this time would have caused his meridians to rupture, if not killed him outright. His magical power could never have reached the level comparable to a late-stage cultivator; he might even have fallen back to early-stage cultivation. Indeed, one must not let their mind wander during training—he felt a sudden chill of fear.
Recalling the words that had surged into his mind from the Cold Paulownia Sword, he realized this must have been a technique left by his master. The expansion of his meridians and magical power now rivaled that of a late-stage cultivator. Although this accident had advanced the Cold Paulownia Sword to mid-stage and, through the blood ritual, allowed Mo Hao to temporarily wield a mid-stage magical weapon, he still lacked confidence in confronting Xiao Huan.
Having experienced the journey from a mountain village to now, Mo Hao understood one thing: it was essential to always keep multiple contingencies in mind. This way, when things exceeded expectations, he could respond adequately.
With this in mind, Mo Hao hurriedly examined the Yanxin Sword Technique. After reaching the late stage of fasting, one could unlock the first heart technique layer, merging the sword with the heart to stimulate the potential of the magical weapon, enhancing its power by several times. Mo Hao gasped inwardly; his master’s techniques were truly extraordinary. This was unlike the combined attack of several late-stage cultivators; it was an ultimate sword assault that could break through almost all magical shields. However, this technique consumed nearly all the magical power of a late-stage cultivator—it was overwhelmingly powerful.
Mo Hao thought further. The Yanxin Sword Technique could serve as a trump card, a single decisive strike when necessary. As he read on, he discovered that the first layer of this sword technique differed from the usual sword control arts. Sword control merely used magical power to drive the weapon in attack, but the Yanxin Sword Technique actually forged the sword with magical power.
Following the Yanxin Sword Technique, Mo Hao practiced for an hour and found it was not as easy as ordinary sword control. Controlling objects with magic was simple, but cultivating a magical weapon with magical power was challenging. It required infusing the weapon with his power. Mo Hao placed the small sword across his chest, channeled his magical power to activate the Cold Paulownia Sword, and infused part of his power into it, performing the sword technique.
“Go!”
The Cold Paulownia Sword tore through the air, flying only a meter before Mo Hao clearly felt the sword absorb the surrounding magical power again. This gave him a headache. What was he to do? The Yanxin Sword Technique was meant to forge a sharp edge on the weapon with magical power and protect the weapon from damage under greater force, yet the Cold Paulownia Sword was absorbing the magical power for its own use.
After a moment’s reflection, he realized something: since his master had given him this Cold Paulownia Sword and used it to teach him his technique, he must have considered this very issue. Immediately, Mo Hao poured all his magical power into the sword. The Cold Paulownia Sword shone brightly and shot forward with a “whoosh.”
Unexpectedly, all his magical power was drained by the sword. He understood that the sword’s sudden absorption of his remaining power did not mean the Yanxin Sword Technique required a cultivator’s full magical power. It was because Mo Hao’s power, just comparable to a late-stage cultivator, was still at mid-stage, and his insufficient power and cultivation level could not suppress a mid-stage magical weapon, causing this reaction.
Though unable to control this advancing flying sword well, anyone would be thrilled to have such a weapon. After slightly operating the Pure Origin Technique to recover some power, he silently recited the sword technique again to practice the Yanxin Sword Technique. This cycle repeated for several hours. Though the sword still drained all his power each time, Mo Hao had become more adept at infusing power into the sword. If he had enough magical power, wielding several flying swords simultaneously would likely be feasible. As he contemplated this, he knew this was but a daydream for now and could not help but laugh. Reflecting on his master’s past actions, he realized they were likely acts of protection.
According to his master, the Northern Yan Sword Sect was highly influential, with disciples spread far and wide. If they knew he possessed the sect’s techniques, it might bring unnecessary trouble. The three prohibitions his master imposed on him were already beyond his reach.
The first prohibition required foundation establishment level cultivation; the second, Nascent Soul level. His master’s cultivation might have surpassed the Nascent Soul stage, the one who had shattered Xuan Fengzi’s physical body and forced his soul to flee to this realm. That culprit could probably crush Mo Hao with a single finger. Just the thought sent chills down his spine.
However, one thing puzzled Mo Hao deeply: after meeting Qian Yiwen in Yue City, he could not understand why his master had chosen him. Qian Yiwen’s spiritual veins were poor but surely not worse than his own five-element wasteland veins.
Shaking his head to dismiss these unanswerable questions, Mo Hao practiced the Yanxin Sword Technique again, emptying all his magical power. He clearly felt the Pure Origin Technique flow more smoothly than before.
As the first rays of morning sunlight streamed into the room, Mo Hao slowly opened his eyes from slumber. Outside came the faint sound of footsteps accompanied by gentle knocking. He knew who it was. Quickly dressing, he opened the door to see a young girl standing there. She bowed slightly, hands folded within her sleeves, posture respectful and cautious. Without raising her eyes, she spoke haltingly:
“Sir, the Ghost Market will open tonight. Please avoid going out today. If you miss the time, even by a moment, entry is forbidden. According to Phoenix Tower’s rules, you must observe more, speak less, and act cautiously while in the Ghost Market. If you do not sell any items afterward, you must still submit one spirit stone to our tower.”
Mo Hao nodded.
“Understood.”
The girl quietly withdrew, disappearing from sight. Clearly, the alluring woman had sent this girl to warn him not to act rashly or cross any boundaries. Moreover, he was required to pay a commission to Phoenix Tower—such were the rules. Phoenix Tower was truly a shrewd business. Mo Hao silently admired this. He touched the few spirit stones in his Qian Kun pouch, his heart heavy with concern. What kind of magical weapons could these few spirit stones buy? It all depended on tonight’s luck.
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At dusk, the young girl returned to Mo Hao’s door, knocking lightly. Mo Hao rose, opened the door, and nodded to her. She then led him toward the third floor.
Upon arriving, two guards blocked their way. Mo Hao had anticipated this and calmly produced a rusted token from his waist pouch, handing it over. The guards exchanged a glance filled with reverence, then respectfully stepped aside to let him pass. The girl motioned for him to follow and led him inside.
The scene before him gradually became clear, and Mo Hao soon spotted the alluring woman.
She took out a mask-like magical artifact and handed it to Mo Hao. Curious, he examined it closely.
“Sir, this is a necessary artifact for entering the Phoenix Tower’s Ghost Market. It can block cultivators’ detection; even foundation establishment stage cultivators’ divine senses cannot penetrate it. As for golden core stage cultivators, naturally it won’t hold, but such cultivators wouldn’t come to a place like ours.”
Mo Hao infused magical power into the artifact; the mask flew up and clasped onto his face. Instantly, his aura and magical power dropped to early fasting stage.
“This truly is a fine treasure! Such an artifact wouldn’t be given away for free!”
Sure enough, the woman continued:
“Sir, do not worry. The usage fee is included in the ten percent spirit stone commission. However, this artifact is made of special materials and is fragile. Please use it carefully. If damaged, compensation will be required.”
Mo Hao nodded, already expecting her words. Though she showed him great respect, her tone carried a faint threat.
“Truly a businessperson through and through!” he thought.
As Mo Hao moved forward, he noticed many people sitting cross-legged along the path, each with a red carpet in front displaying various items. Scanning the goods, none suited his needs.
This time, Mo Hao mainly sought defensive magical weapons. He saw many on the stalls, even one or two mid-grade weapons. Although tempted, his wealth was worlds apart from the prices.
Passing one stall, he suddenly felt a wave of magical power stirring within him. His entire power began to circulate actively. Startled, Mo Hao concealed his reaction and turned toward the stall. Amid the many items—jade bottles, various weapons like swords, axes, and halberds—his sensitivity pinpointed the source of the magical fluctuation: an object resembling a turtle shell.
“Young sir, found something you like? I’ll give you a good price.”
Mo Hao looked at the stall owner and pointed at the turtle shell-like item.
“How much?”
The elderly man’s cloudy eyes twirled before replying:
“Young sir, you have a keen eye. This is a defensive magical artifact that can withstand a full-power strike from a mid-stage fasting cultivator without damage. The price is quite cheap—only twenty spirit stones.”
Mo Hao sneered. He could sense the uniqueness of the item because of his five-element spiritual veins. He felt five kinds of spiritual energy within the turtle shell fusing and repelling each other. Clearly, the old man was wildly overcharging.
“What about these pills?”
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Seeing Mo Hao lose interest in the turtle shell, the old man’s face momentarily darkened with disappointment. He had been pleased to obtain this turtle shell-like artifact, but no matter how much magical power he infused, it was ineffective. The artifact could block stones thrown by mortals but hoping to resist a cultivator’s strike was wishful thinking. The Ghost Market’s sales depended on luck and good judgment—no returns. If one bought the wrong or overpriced item, the fault was theirs alone. That was why the old man put it up for sale; after all, it was a magical weapon, and its uselessness became apparent only post-purchase.
“Recovery Pills, five spirit stones for these five bottles all yours!”
Mo Hao nodded. These recovery pills were one spirit stone cheaper than those sold at the sect, and their quality seemed decent.
“I’ll pay six spirit stones; the recovery pills are mine, and the turtle shell too!”
The old man shook his head. Without a word, Mo Hao turned to leave. After a few breaths, the old man shouted:
“Young sir, wait! Ten spirit stones! Take both the recovery pills and the artifact!”
Mo Hao smiled but reluctantly returned, his tone resigned:
“Alright.”
The old man accepted ten translucent spirit stones, his face glowing with joy. Mo Hao was equally pleased; though the artifact might be useless to others, for someone like him who could manipulate five-element spiritual energy, it could unleash its full potential.
The Ghost Market lived up to its reputation, filled with countless treasures but priced far lower than the sect’s. The recovery pills were excellent for restoring magical power during battle. Now that he had a defensive artifact, Mo Hao felt he could casually browse the remaining stalls. Spending ten spirit stones left him penniless, but he had made a great bargain.
As Mo Hao walked along, he saw stalls brimming with magical weapons, pills, and herbs—he wished he could take them all.
He thought, if luck favored him and he completed the sect’s task, it would be excellent. A pleased smile formed on his lips. Just then, he noticed several cultivators fixated not on any stalls but on a private room on the third floor. One of them glared fiercely at Mo Hao when he looked their way.
Mo Hao preferred to avoid trouble, so he ignored them and proceeded.
At last, he reached the end of the path, where stairs led to the fourth floor. He knew entry required a Mithril Token, which he did not possess. Not wanting to invite trouble, he decided to retrace his steps.
However, as he turned, he encountered those cultivators again. Coincidentally, as he passed, he distinctly heard them say:
“His time is up!”
This phrase instantly drew Mo Hao’s attention. Frowning, he thought to himself: I want to see what these people are up to.