The Gang Acupoint opened.
He had entered the True Gang Realm.
But Lin Yan did not rise in a hurry to test his newfound strength. He closed his eyes, carefully sensing the newborn vortex within his body.
The Gang Acupoint hovered three inches below his heart, like a miniature star, slowly spinning on its own.
With each rotation, it drew a thread of extremely thin Power of Heaven and Earth from the void, merging it into his Qi Blood.
Lin Yan’s gaze fell upon the Jade Box. Inside, the last drop of Cold Dew remained.
He could still absorb the Cold Dew after entering the True Gang Realm, and he wasn’t about to waste this final drop.
Taking out the ninth drop of Cold Dew, Lin Yan placed it in the palm of his hand.
This time, the chilly energy did not flow toward his Dantian. Instead, drawn by the Gang Acupoint, it surged directly toward the tiny vortex below his heart.
The vortex trembled violently, and its rotational speed suddenly accelerated.
This time, in less than half an hour, the Cold Dew’s energy was completely devoured by the Gang Acupoint, but the acupoint itself didn’t change much in size.
Lin Yan performed Introspection on his Martial Arts Tree. After consuming this drop of Cold Dew, the Martial Arts Tree hadn’t grown much taller, but it had become thicker.
All in all, the Martial Arts Tree now stood at a height of twenty-one and a half feet, but its trunk was clearly twice as thick as before. The bark’s texture was more defined, its branches sturdier, as if it had grown from a small sapling into a real tree.
With that, all nine drops of Cold Dew had been completely refined.
Lin Yan stood up and stretched his limbs. His bones cracked and popped, but not with the usual sharp, crisp sound like popping beans. Instead, the sound was deep and restrained, as if every bone had been steeped in the Power of Heaven and Earth, becoming denser and tougher.
He walked to the center of the courtyard, ready to test the power of the True Gang Realm.
’First, I’ll try the Smoke-Stepping Technique.’
Lin Yan took a deep breath and moved his feet.
His figure drifted out like smoke, silent and so fast his path was nearly invisible. It was completely different from when he was in the Blood Exchange Realm. The Smoke-Stepping Technique was no longer powered solely by Qi Blood; the Power of Heaven and Earth from his Gang Acupoint naturally integrated into the footwork, making his movements more erratic and effortless.
The balls of his feet tapped the ground, and he was already three zhang away. Another tap, and he returned to his original spot.
The entire process made almost no sound.
Lin Yan nodded slightly. Boosted by the True Gang Realm, the Smoke-Stepping Technique was seventy percent faster, and its consumption was lower.
Previously, using the Smoke-Stepping Technique at full power would rapidly consume his Qi Blood. Now, the Qi Blood consumption was less than thirty percent of what it used to be, allowing him to maintain extreme speed for much longer.
’Next up, Sword Gang!’
Lin Yan’s right hand rested on the hilt of his Abyssal Sword, and he slowly drew it.
As the Abyssal Sword left its sheath, its dark blade glinted with a cold, spectral light under the sun.
He did not unleash multiple Sword Intents, but merely activated a single Perfect Sword Intent—the Flowing Cloud Thirteen Techniques.
Sword Gang erupted from the blade’s edge, a silvery sword light unfurling like a flowing cloud.
But unlike in the Blood Exchange Realm, this Sword Gang possessed an indescribable "texture"—the result of the Power of Heaven and Earth merging with his Sword Intent.
With a single swing, the Sword Gang swept toward the ten wooden stakes like a waterfall.
The ten stakes before him seemed to be struck by a torrential downpour, but it was different. Beneath this waterfall-like Sword Gang, the stakes were devoured, bit by bit, from top to bottom.
At least, visually, that was what it looked like: the Sword Gang was devouring the stakes.
By the time the Sword Gang hit the ground, the ten wooden stakes had completely vanished, leaving only a pile of wood dust.
It seemed to take a long time, but it all happened in a flash.
"The Sword Gang has formed a wave?"
Lin Yan’s eyes sparkled. In the Blood Exchange Realm, even if he used multiple Sword Intents, the Sword Gang he released was a single line, not a wide sheet like this.
’A single-target skill has become a group-target skill?’
’No wonder they say you can’t wear down a True Gang Realm Powerhouse with a human-wave tactic of Low Tier Martial Artists. It’s not just because True Gang Martial Artists can fly for short periods; it’s because they can inflict group damage. Even if a True Gang Realm Powerhouse stood their ground, how many lives would you have to throw at them just to deplete their Qi Blood?’
’I just wonder, if I fought Brother Mingya now, who would be stronger?’
For the next two days, Lin Yan remained in his courtyard, testing the extent of his new strength, including some applications of the True Gang Realm.
Only after he had thoroughly understood and mastered the use of True Gang did he wrap an object in a piece of cloth, leave his courtyard, and head directly for the clan’s forge.
The Lin Family had its own forge.
Half of the clan’s Spiritual Weapons were forged in their own workshop.
The Lin Family forge was located in the northeast corner of the estate, covering more than ten mu. From a distance, Lin Yan could hear the DING DING DANG DANG of hammers, as dense as falling rain, yet possessing a strange rhythm, as if a thousand musical notes were each playing their part in the same symphony.
DING DING DONG DONG... It was incredibly pleasant to the ear.
In his previous life, he had often watched forging videos while scrolling through short-form video apps.
At most, he’d also watch videos of donkey hoof trimming and "Brother Odebiao."
’Real men should smith and forge!’
Lin Yan stepped through the entrance to the forge, and a wave of heat washed over him.
Inside was a massive open space. Dozens of forging furnaces lined the walls, their fires burning brightly, baking the entire workshop as if it were the height of summer.
The craftsmen were bare-chested, beads of sweat rolling down their dark backs, glistening like bronze in the firelight.
Before each furnace, one or two craftsmen worked in coordination. One held the tongs, the other swung the hammer. Sparks flew where the hammer fell, like blooming fireworks.
The air was filled with the smell of rust and charcoal, along with a special, crisp scent that belonged to the materials used for Spiritual Weapons.

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