Not far from the Dwarf mines, Lancelot was sitting cross-legged in a cave. He had been cultivating here for the past two days, striving to enhance his cultivation level.
It wasn't that there was anything special about the cave, it was simply because the hammering of the Dwarves wasn't as piercing here.
He found he no longer required sleep; after finishing his cultivation sessions, he could naturally enter into meditation. Resting for just an hour or two in a meditative state would leave him as refreshed as if he had slept through the night.
His cultivation speed was now much slower than when he first experienced sensing Qi, but Lancelot was clear that this was the normal state of affairs. A rapid increase in strength out of nowhere was nothing but a castle in the air, and the journey of Spiritual Cultivation was really about building a tower of sand—accumulating slowly day by day until, eventually, countless streams return to the ocean, transcending the mundane and entering the realm of the holy.
Of course, these eloquent words were not his own; they came from Han Tianzun who left the bamboo slips containing his cultivation insights. Every day, Lancelot would read the contents related to cultivation knowledge and experiences with a voracious thirst, in addition to his own practice.
Han Tianzun came from a world where Spiritual Cultivation was mainstream, where there were various Magical Treasures and Elixirs that could aid in cultivation, some great sects even provided these for free to their outstanding members' progeny; there were abundant spiritual energy reserves in blessed lands and caves, typically occupied by various powerful forces, but where one could advance by leaps and bounds in cultivation; and there were also ancient caves and secret realms left by sages of old, where obtaining the lost Divine Skills and Magical Treasures could be exchanged for rich rewards from the great sects, or the bold among them might quietly keep the treasures for themselves, silently amassing a fortune.
Such things obviously did not exist in the Abyssal Plane, but Han Tianzun had left behind methods of Alchemy and Artifact Refining, which Lancelot might try out if he got the chance.
Another matter that he took great interest in was the mention by Han Tianzun one day regarding the "anomalous" nature of the spiritual energy in this world.
In the words of the old Dwarf Barrend, the Abyssal Plane was practically the Main Plane's trash bin, septic tank, the ultimate destination for all that was evil, filthy, and Fallen. Naturally, the spiritual energy one could absorb while cultivating in this world had its issues.
The Qi Sea in his Dantian was currently dominated by his own Innate Power. Innate Power was like an unfathomably deep ocean, deep and serene when calm. The spiritual energy he absorbed through cultivation from the outside world was different, however; they were like raging magma and roaring waterfalls, powerful but difficult to control.
Yesterday, Lancelot tried practicing a Qi Refinement Realm Combat Technique called Gathering Qi Slash. The essence of this technique was to channel True Qi along a special path through the Meridians before releasing it with a slashing motion.
He used the stone platform on which he was seated as the object of his experiment. When he exercised his power using Innate True Qi, the stone platform was sliced into two pieces as easily as a hot knife through butter. But when he switched to the spiritual energy of the Abyssal Plane, his Great Sword glowed red as he began to channel Qi, and with one strike, the platform exploded into over a dozen pieces upon contact with the Sword Blade.
That was why he was now sitting on the ground.
Although visually the effect of a single explosive slash was very cool, the actual utilization of energy was quite low. In terms of power, it was clear that the version using Innate True Qi was much stronger.
Lancelot felt quite helpless about this; he had tried many methods from the bamboo slips, including the Ice Heart Spell for resisting the Heart Demon, and the Three Purities meditation for controlling emotions, but sadly, they were not very effective. Instead, they did help to stabilize his impatient state of mind considerably.
After various attempts, he found that only a Dharma Method called "Imperial Qi Body Tempering" was effective. When circulating the Heavenly Cycle, if a small strand of True Qi was initiated from the Dantian, the result was the accumulation of new spiritual energy from the environment. But if he gathered as much True Qi as possible right from the onset at the Dantian, his body would be strengthened under the stimulation of True Qi.
This form of cultivation was akin to power training in the world of Spiritual Cultivation, but it had two minor additional effects: it could slightly increase the homogenization of the True Qi in his body and enhance his control over the True Qi, both of which were precisely what Lancelot needed at the moment.
As Cultivators possessed immense strength, they rarely deliberately exercised their bodies, generally opting to undertake such training to adjust their body's condition only when their Cultivation Technique was about to attain perfection and they were on the verge of a breakthrough. Furthermore, the effect of enhancing the homogenization of inner spiritual energy was useless for those who cultivated under normal conditions.
Spiritual Cultivators usually prioritized advancing to the next Realm as quickly as possible since ordinary people have a limited lifespan, and only by breaking through to the next stage could they postpone their own aging. Endowed with the Elves' blessing, Lancelot already had several times the lifespan of an ordinary person, so he didn't mind putting in some extra effort to solidify his strength.
At that moment, he sensed someone entering the cave, so he concluded his Cultivation session and stood up.
"Lancelot, are you up?" Bruto's booming voice came from the entrance of the cave.
"Even if I were still sleeping, you would have woken me up by now," Lancelot said helplessly.
"Ha ha, I'm here to deliver goods; your order is completed," Bruto's figure appeared at the entrance, dragging behind a small trolley used for transporting ores.
Excited, Lancelot ran towards him. Although he was already a Spiritual Cultivator, he was still not accustomed to going without armor.
"Paladins are knights too," the armored little person inside Lancelot's heart insisted.
Bruto, proudly taking out a dark green short sword from the cart, said, "Take a good look, this is Dwarf craftsmanship. That annoying humanoid fly is only good for its gabbing. My dad named it the Kiss of Deadly Poison."
Lancelot took the short sword and examined it carefully in his hands. The weapon was about as long as his forearm, with no crossguard, but the grip had been specially treated to prevent slipping. Most of the blade was unsharpened, but it had been crafted into a triangular spike at the end, which seemed very sharp. There was also a scabbard made from carapace, likely originating from the same source as the sword.
"The hardness of this short sword is as good as any metal weapon, but the toughness is just average, so you can confidently thrust it into anything you want, but please don't rely on it to block for your life."
Upon hearing this, Lancelot tried a few thrusting motions, the blade flashing frighteningly in mid-air.
Bruto involuntarily shrank his neck back and continued, "This weapon also retains the demon's poison, so enemies hit by it will become very weak, uh, if they aren't killed by you on the spot, that is."
"Thank you, I'm very satisfied," Lancelot said as he put the short sword away. "I also like the name Kiss of Deadly Poison; it suits it."
"My dad's always had a knack for naming weapons," Bruto beamed, continuing to pull more items out of his little cart. "Here's your armor. We've made some modifications at the joints as you asked, so you can try it on."
Lancelot took the armor, now disassembled into parts, and noticed the joints had turned the color of brass, dotted with coin-sized black spots.
"That's graphite. We extracted it from Dragon Scale charcoal. It will make the brass very slick. You'll know once you put it on."
Lancelot, filled with curiosity, put on the armor right there.
"Wow, I didn't think you'd manage on your own," Bruto exclaimed, impressed that Lancelot had swiftly donned the full set of armor without assistance.
Lancelot was also startled for a moment. Full body armor was very heavy, and it was quite difficult to put on without an attendant's help, but now he had managed to do it by himself.
It seemed that cultivation had indeed greatly improved his physical condition.
"I've specifically trained for it," boasted Lancelot modestly.
He moved around and found that the clanging of metal no longer sounded; now it was more like the noise of sand rubbing against sand. Although it was far from silent, it was much quieter than before when it could be heard from thirty paces away.
"I really can't thank you enough," Lancelot suddenly felt a bit ashamed. "I don't have much to offer as a reward, but I will ensure your safety with all my might on our upcoming journey to Twin Bridges Town."
"Don't mention it, but speaking of a reward..." Bruto suddenly seemed a little embarrassed. "Well, about that shield of yours, I found it quite handy to use. Could I possibly…"
"Haha, not a problem. We worked really well together when you took the shield," Lancelot pointed at the great sword leaning against the wall. "I prefer using this now."
Bruto looked at the weapon, nearly two heads taller than him, with awe, "That thing sure is imposing. It's very fitting in this world. Unfortunately, we Dwarves can't use it — its center of gravity is just too high, making it hard for us to maintain balance when swinging it."
Lancelot chuckled and patted his shoulder, "Now whenever I see a Cross Pickaxe, I can almost feel an ache in my knees."
"Haha, the Cross Pickaxe is certainly the greatest invention of this world after the forge," Bruto said with a laughing smile. "Alright then, the preparations are all done. It's time for us to set off."