On the edge of a cliff in the middle of the night, Soha was seated cross-legged. A long strip of bloody clothing waved on the cliff-side; his face was covered with the calm demonic mask, colored red and menacing under the moonlight. He took deep breaths.
Time had passed. Today, it was exactly 60 days since he arrived in Qian Long Martial Star. Every week, he visited the Li Clan, and Li Yuntao understood that he had become a 2nd-class martial artist.
With the old man's scrutinizing gaze and constant invasive checking with his Innate Qi, it was impossible to hide. It was evident that Soha's Innate Qi was no longer a dormant pool of energy trapped in his meridians and heart. Now, his Innate Qi pulsed with his heartbeats and moved through his meridians.
Soha knew the old man planned to give him missions once his explosive growth stumped, which would happen sooner or later.
It had made his body utterly spent in the process of digesting other people's Innate Qi, and even without Emma telling it to him explicitly, he could tell that he was growing old. Though he was barely eighteen years old, he now looked around mid-thirties. His hair was greyed in the sides, his skin wasn't as vibrant and more a sickly pale, and he was, overall, in poor health.
But at the same time, he was stronger than ever. He could move the whole of his Innate Qi from head to toe into one part of his body, and that part would grow unbelievably strong.
For example, if he poured his Innate Qi into the Black Poison Palm Art, he would have immensely more poisonous and stronger palms than before. It would no longer just be as strong as leather but as strong as iron, just like Bo Gui's Martial Arts had been said to be.
Due to Soha having a low foundation, he could only train in Low-Level Martial Arts like the Black Poison Palm Art.
In contrast, well-learned Martial Artists with better foundations practiced Medium Level Martial Arts, which usually had more surface area than a mere palm, like Bo Gui's whole arm, which was a Medium Class Martial Art—which the man had called iron-thick as a lie to intimidate, it was just at the level of thick leather, or he wouldn't have been poisoned by the palm attack.
Some even practiced High-Level Martial Arts, which would let them make their whole body's Innate Qi move through unique patterns in their meridians to transform it according to the technique using the help of many materials. Those were the true geniuses of great heritages.
Soha would probably die if he met even a 3rd Class Martial Artist like that. Even though he was a 2nd Class Martial Artist himself. After all, what could he do to a person with a leather-level defensive body, this time not only the arm but the whole thing, and with more potent offensive methods?
He would die. He couldn't possibly fight them.
But indeed, he had grown stronger. He could now move the Innate Qi throughout his body into his palm, and the palm would grow as strong as true iron. Even blades would find his palm impossible to cut unless they were exceptionally sharp or enhanced by Innate Qi.
He was not worried. Only 1st Class Martial Artists can move Innate Qi out of their body. He could probably overwhelm normal people in the tens now.
But that was not all. His palm's poison had become much more deadly. If he fought with Bo Gui with his current palm, one or two palms on Bo Gui's arm would have been enough to make the man dizzy, and five would have made him froth at the mouth immediately. Of course, that was a rough analogy.
Even though he had grown stronger, he hadn't killed a single person in the past few weeks after getting out of the hospital. He was still recovering and controlling his own strength for now before trying to gain more. He just spent the last few days in hiding, and once every week, he covertly visited the Li Clan for the antidote.
He also found out that there were many ways he could use his strength, and he had thought of a bunch of methods to enhance his killing potential since he knew it was, again, a time he had to start killing again.
Li Yuntao had mentioned that 'Soha would probably stop his rapid rise in strength at the 1st Class Martial Artist level even with his suicidal training methods, but reaching that level wouldn't be too hard,' but Soha thought otherwise.
He would have to consume a thousand hearts at the very least to saturate his body with Innate Qi until it overflowed from his very being. A thousand hearts and maybe even more than that, considering his luck.
Only then could he sense the Qi and understand how to make it flow outside on his own. He could then move the Qi at will outside his meridian routes and into the real world, which would make him a true 1st Class Martial Artist.
A thousand hearts?
Not too hard?
Even a hundred had taken a part of him. Thousand would really be hard. Especially so since people would start hunting him on their own, not that they hadn't already started doing that. He knew many had figurative eyes on him already.
But his rest was over tonight; he had to start tomorrow, and even though he knew it would be easier to kill mortals now, the people around this area had become wary. The bandits had all got into their most leery selves.
Even though a 2nd Class Martial Artist was strong, numbers could overwhelm someone like Soha. He couldn't protect every part of his body at all times. He would die if 30 or 40 people surrounded him at once.
Soha knew he was vulnerable to many things. Poisons, fire, arrows in huge numbers, ambush, and more. Death would be a foregone conclusion if he became arrogant against Mortals. Only Martial Masters were invulnerable against such Mortal means. Even if they were ambushed in sleep, they wouldn't be harmed by anyone below their level.
But even 1st Class Martial Artists would be able to fight Mortals in huge numbers while being conscious. Resentfully, he also knew that people with genius foundations who practiced High-Level Martial Arts would also be able to handle Mortals in huge numbers.
He would have to think more before he moved.
"Emma, according to the time in this world, how much time had it passed in Aetherian?" he asked calmly.
He hated speaking even more these days; his stomach felt phantom pains when he spoke, and there was always this sensation of disgust in his mouth as if he was constantly in a state of wanting to vomit.
No wonder no one who wished to practice Martial Arts would choose Demonic Arts. That was a simple side effect of the Demonic Martial Art that he was practicing. No one sane would practice such an Art when they would die soon.
Emma didn't reply to his question and asked, "[Are you alright?]"
Soha shook his head with a smile. "It's not even my body, it's just pain. It'll pass. How much time had passed in Aetherian?"
"[Around 10 minutes had passed in Aetherian. You can be here for about a year more, according to our good calculations, for Evelyn to stay alive in the abyss. I believe in you, Soha, you can do it!]"
He had asked it so many times...
Soha chuckled.
He didn't know what he would have done without Emma. He balled up on himself and, on the windy night, fell asleep. Nobody knew he was here. He felt the most safe in this place. "Emma, I wish I could hug you like a human being."
"[Soha, you are having a lot of pent-up stress. Don't worry, I am always with you. In any world.]"
"I see…"
Soha fell asleep soon enough. If anything happened, she would wake him up. Even though he had only killed simple people as of now, he already knew he had messed up a bit with Bo Gui.
That man had a lot of influence in the underworld due to being a merchant of dark goods and being the one who killed him; there were wanted notices of the alibi, Heart-Eating Demon, all around the cities in the area. He could no longer enter cities with his mask on or without since both of those identities were now criminals.
He had to change the mask to another appearance to get in.
There were many Martial Artists out there who would kill him at sight for the bounty.
His mask and hat were now already quite famous.
He would have changed his clothes for the next fight, but he had to deal with something left over from the person who used to be in his body, Hei Ran.
Hei Ran had a wish that he needed to fulfill, a regret that the man had held before his death: to become renowned as a martial artist using the name Hei Ran. Only if he fulfilled that regret could he inherit all that was Hei Ran's before he moved back to the real world. He needed the infamy.
Regardless, he still decided to use the mask only when he was sure no one around the area was a threat to himself. Otherwise, he decided to create another face. He knew what that face should be.
It should be the most deceiving of all.