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"Seriously, this guy didn't have anything on him?"
Qing Xuanling, who had gotten up after resting for a quarter of an hour, looked resentfully at Cheng Yogun's corpse.
For some reason, the bastard had absolutely nothing on him!
Forget about even a storage ring—he didn't even have a storage pouch. Nor did he carry any item of value on his body. All he wore were his robes. His sword turned out to be the most valuable thing he had.
However, it was only mid-grade. At best, it was worth a hundred spirit stones—maybe even less, since it was chipped from the intense battle it had just endured.
She sighed deeply. She'd always managed to find some treasure on the bodies of strong enemies she'd defeated before. This was the first time she'd suffered such a great loss.
"Haha, that damn bastard is giving us headaches even in death," Qing Linxi laughed as she approached, limping.
Although she'd already taken a healing pill, her wounds were too severe, leaving her extremely weak and injured. She'd need at least a few hours to recover—and that was only because she was a body cultivator.
She looked at Cheng Yogun's body. "What should we do with this? You two seemed to have some kind of history. Do you want to toss him into the forest for the beasts to eat, or should we follow standard procedure and burn his body along with his subordinates'?"
Qing Xuanling hesitated. It was customary for cultivators, after a life-or-death fight, to cremate their opponent's body as a sign of respect if it was necessary to get rid of a corpse. No one wanted their remains used in some evil ritual or devoured by demonic beasts, so burning corpses had become the norm.
Yet, to Qing Xuanling, Cheng Yogun was like a malevolent plague—someone who'd likely caused hundreds of senseless deaths. Burning his body felt like ignoring all the lives he'd taken. But…
"We'll burn him."
Qing Xuanling's expression was conflicted, but she didn't change her decision. Though she disliked the idea, she knew that, after facing him, she'd begun to respect Cheng Yogun. It was inevitable.
She admired strength, and what Cheng Yogun had shown was a level of power she'd never seen in someone at his cultivation stage. Not to mention they were both sword cultivators. In a way, it was unavoidable that a feeling of respect would arise.
Qing Linxi shrugged, not really caring about the situation. "Let's gather the fallen enemies' bodies then. It'll make things easier when we inspect them later."
Sometimes enemies carried messages with important information or personal items they not handed over to their forces, so the Qing clan had the habit of inspecting all enemy corpses after a major battle.
Of course, this was an open secret.
Though everyone did it, desecrating a body was still frowned upon.
Both women began dragging the Ink Sword Sect cultivators' bodies and arranged them neatly in rows. They were enemies, but that didn't mean their corpses deserved to be piled up like trash.
Time passed quickly as they handled this task, y luego de media hora, the rest of the platoon—led by Instructor Huan—returned from the forest.
Their bodies were covered in blood and dirt, but they stood tall, proud of their victory.
Instructor Huan approached and looked at the bodies neatly laid out on the ground, nodding gratefully. At the same time, a slight look of surprise appeared on his face as he took in the state of the battlefield.
"Was the battle really this intense…? He was just an eighth-layer cultivator, wasn't he?" Instructor Huan was quite confused.
He could understand how someone at that cultivation level—provided they were talented enough—might trouble Qing Linxi. But causing this much destruction while she fighting alongside Qing Xuanling?
That was something even he couldn't achieve.
Qing Linxi shrugged. "That brat was incredibly powerful—far more than he showed when you were here. His understanding of the Ink Sword Sect's sword arts was on par with Foundation Establishment elders, and his Sword Qi seemed very close to Clear Lake Realm."
Instructor Huan's face froze in shock, while Qing Xuanling's ears twitched at Qing Linxi's last words.
'Clear Lake Realm?'
However, none of the people in front of her seemed willing to satisfy her curiosity. Well, more than that, they were simply in the middle of an important conversation.
Instructor Huan looked at the bodies of the platoon members the two women had set aside and sighed heavily. "Seven lives lost here, and three more died in the forest… In total, the platoon nearly lost a fifth of its members."
The expressions of all three grew somber. This was only their first mission, and they'd already suffered such losses. Although one could argue it wasn't a bad outcome—they'd completed their original mission and eliminated a talent like Cheng Yogun along with over two hundred Ink Sword Sect cultivators—they couldn't help but feel emotionally downcast.
Especially Qing Xuanling. This was the first time she'd experienced the death of her comrades. Even though she hadn't been particularly close them, she still felt awful about suddenly losing companions she'd fought alongside.
She sighed and stepped away from the group, taking time to rest. She sat cross-legged on a small patch of grass, placing Memory on her lap and carefully examining the cracks that had appeared along its blade.
The battle had been too intense—even Memory, forged from some of the hardest metals available, hadn't emerged unscathed.
However, if one looked closely, the cracks were slowly—but surely—closing.
Qing Xuanling ran her finger along Memory's blade, making it tremble pitifully. It was almost the same as when a child complained to their parents about being bullied. She murmured softly, stroking it more tenderly.
"You did well—too well… If I'm still in one piece, it's thanks to you, the grandest and greatest sword in all the heavens."
Memory trembled intensely, as if writhing from the praise.
Qing Xuanling smiled. Lately, Memory had been showing more spirituality, more personality. Its consciousness seemed on the verge of awakening. The recent battle wounds might even have accelerated the process.
'Though speaking of wounds…'
Qing Xuanling's attention turned to her own body. Her condition was quite poor. Not only had she received several injuries from Cheng Yogun's attacks, but she'd also taken a blood-burning pill.
Moreover, during the fight, she'd forcibly controlled the energy absorbed by the Wandering Sword's Sixth Movement—Soft Block—causing her meridians and energy channels to become overstrained.
"Soft Block is a good technique—it allows defense and energy accumulation simultaneously. However, the absorbed energy must be released quickly…" Qing Xuanling looked at her arms, which trembled slightly.
Although Soft Block stored the absorbed energy in the sword, to use that energy, Qing Xuanling had to channel it through her body first; otherwise, she couldn't perform any techniques and would just be swinging an energy-filled sword she couldn't actually wield.
That was why her mouth had been full of blood when she launched her final attack.
"I'll need a month to fully recover, and Memory an unknown amount of time…" Qing Xuanling sighed.
The consequences of this battle had been quite severe.
But the benefits were equally—if not more—significant.
Qing Xuanling's eyes shone. She'd discovered that Qi of different attributes could affect how techniques were activated and released in distinct ways instead of causing Qi deviations.
At first glance, this might seem obvious—after all, there were sword cultivators without a Metal spiritual root who were still powerful, or cultivators who used elemental spells of elements they didn't possess.
Thinking about it that way, it made sense that different types of Qi would yield different results when performing the same technique.
Qing Xuanling's heart pounded fiercely. Her instincts told her this discovery was extremely important. She didn't know exactly how it would matter amid everything else she had on her plate, but she resolved to investigate it more deeply.
"However, I also need to learn more techniques or spells as soon as possible…"
Qing Xuanling's expression darkened.
After fighting Cheng Yogun, she realized her repertoire of skills was too small. In itself, that wasn't a problem—after all, a few well-used techniques could be better than hundreds of mediocre ones.
Take Cheng Yogun, for example: despite using only one sword art in battle, he'd demonstrated immense power and versatility.
Or at least, that's what Qing Xuanling believed—or rather, she'd forgotten one crucial factor: the rank of their techniques.
Although obvious, the techniques of different ranks varied greatly in power and versatility. The reason Cheng Yogun could display such power with just one sword art was because his sword art was Earth Rank.
After all, the Ink Sword Sect's foundational sword technique couldn't possibly be just Profound Rank.
Meanwhile, Qing Xuanling's sword technique—the Wandering Sword—was only Supreme-Grade Yellow Rank. Though powerful and mysterious beyond its rank, the Wandering Sword simply couldn't match the power and versatility of Cheng Yogun's sword art.
It wasn't inherently bad—the Wandering Sword's purpose was quick kills.
The problem was that Qing Xuanling lacked methods to counter highly destructive techniques.
Qing Xuanling brought a hand to her forehead.
"The Star Map, learning the remaining movements of the Wandering Sword, perfecting the spells I already know, reviewing my alchemy and refining knowledge, and now I also have to research how different Qi types affect techniques and learn more techniques…"
Qing Xuanling felt dizzy from all the tasks ahead. At the same time, a hint of resentment stirred in her heart.
Why wasn't Xuan Dan here with her?! She could've dumped half these responsibilities on her! But now, alone and helpless, she had no choice but to handle everything herself!