What is the use of Inspiration?
It can sense goodwill and malice, distinguish Demons, detect hidden Specters, and even harm Specters directly... but that's not all. It can also shake or suppress the mind and will, sometimes forming tangible mental pressure.
Inspiration is one of the senses.
When the body's physical qualities reach an extreme and the mind and will become unbreakable, a trace of Inspiration may arise—a sublimation of human consciousness.
This is the basic perception of the Martial Lord Realm.
Countless Martial Lords across the Martial Arts World covet Inspiration, wishing to sharpen their own.
But unfortunately—
Inspiration cannot be trained.
Since ancient times, no method has ever been found to systematically strengthen Inspiration. Only by tempering oneself between life and death, keeping the mind taut, can one gain a faint increase.
"If I'm not mistaken—"
"I may truly be about to step onto a god-blocking, kill-god path of martial invincibility!" Andrew Han thought, inwardly excited, his mood exceptionally bright.
He pondered for a moment.
Then, with a smile, he glanced into the depths of the forest, and immediately launched himself into the air—charging southwest like a waking tyrannosaurus.
"Four General-class Demons!"
"I need to kill all the nearby Generals as quickly as possible, then expand my killing range."
Boom!
His pitch-black figure accelerated like a heavy truck, rampaging forward—any mountain or stone in his way was pulverized to dust.
In the riverside thicket—
The Iron Sun Sect disciples said nothing, sometimes exchanging bewildered glances, sometimes breathing anxiously in unease.
This is the Peerless Andrew Han!
The fact that they once dared to plot against such a terrifying figure—clearly, they were tired of living.
...
The original forest clearing.
A circular platform, about ten meters high, stood upon the earth. General Meng sat cross-legged at its center.
Sect elders who had temporarily left and returned, along with elders from the free martial clans, all stood behind General Meng. In front of him was a massive display screen, over a hundred inches wide, showing the real-time rankings for the first round of free hunting.
No one spoke; the atmosphere was silent.
Hundreds of sharp, godlike gazes—full of countless emotions—focused on the giant screen, as if trying to pierce through its LCD surface.
'First place: Li Gang.'
'Second place: Ling Qianyun.'
At the very bottom of the giant screen, the hundredth real-time ranking appeared: 'Liu Tuyun.'
There was simply no other way.
The screen's size was limited; only the top hundred could be shown. You could scroll down, but who would care about those who fell behind?
This is the Peerless Prodigy Battle!
Hiding your true strength, hoping to bide your time and wait for a stunning debut... Anyone who thinks this way is a fool!
Free hunting—time is limited. Who has time to rest?
Besides, this is deep within the border—extremely dangerous!
To make the Peerless Prodigy Battle possible, Martial Lords had already swept the area within a hundred li, killing off monsters that were too dangerous so that the martial prodigies wouldn't be wiped out en masse. This lowered the risk of free hunting to an acceptable level.
In other words—
Within a hundred-li radius, the number of Demons and Specters is extremely limited.
If you plan to conserve your energy, you're destined to miss the top hundred. No matter how strong you are, if there are no monsters left to kill, how will you earn points?
If you fall behind now, you'll keep falling behind.
If you can't make it into the top hundred now, it'll be extremely difficult to break in later.
"Hmph."
A white-robed, white-haired elder of mid-tier Martial Lord realm from Linji Province wore a grim expression. He was a free martial artist who had brought his younger relative to witness the Peerless Prodigy Battle.
But—
His younger kin, a high-tier Martial General, just couldn't break into the top hundred!
"It's just not fair." The white-robed elder gritted his teeth, face dark as iron, glancing at the gathered sect elders. "I see now. You mobilize your sect's internal forces, rallying disciples to help one or two chosen contenders break into the top hundred!"
"How unfair!"
He shook his head in anger.
In the Martial Arts World, there are organized, disciplined sects and scattered free martial artists... The former value tradition, calling each other senior and junior brothers and ranking by sect position. The latter are independent practitioners who don't join any martial institution.
In the past, the white-haired elder wouldn't have cared.
But now, with the Peerless Prodigy Battle underway, this blatant exploitation of loopholes is infuriating.
"That's not quite right." One of the sect elders spoke with disdain. "This is the advantage of martial sects. What are you dissatisfied with?"
Hmph.
The white-robed elder retorted coldly, "Of course I'm dissatisfied. You're gaming the system, exploiting loopholes in the new rules. It's unfair to us free martial artists."
The next moment—
A Sacred Spring Sect elder stepped forward, pressing down like a dark cloud over the earth, eyes wide. "Whatever your complaint, keep it to yourself!"
"And you call yourself a Martial Lord, yet you don't understand this basic principle."
"Our struggle against Demons and Specters is brutal—there's no fairness at all, and there never has been in the Martial Arts World. Instead of praying for fairness, using every possible means is the true path!"
In the Martial Arts World, there's no hypocritical pretense of nobility.
If you have an advantage, you should use it wisely—this is one of the martial world's accepted truths. Circumstance shapes ideology; that's just how it is.
"You—"
The white-haired elder's eyes flashed with anger.
He was, after all, a mid-tier Martial Lord—how could he be scolded so casually? The sect elders and free martial elders formed two distinct camps, their energies clashing magnificently.
Ssssss!
Scratches like ravines appeared on the alloy platform, as if heralding a coming storm.
At that moment, General Meng coughed.
"Ahem."
"Han Dong, a martial student from Jiangnan Academy, has quite a good ranking—already at thirteenth place."
On the screen—
Han Dong's name was indeed listed at thirteenth.
Many Martial Lords exchanged glances, understanding General Meng's implication: even without help from fellow disciples, one could achieve a high ranking.
The strong stay strong—that's how it is.
But—
Thirteenth place is still just thirteenth. As time passes, Han Dong's ranking will surely slip.
"All of the top twenty are sect disciples." The white-robed elder sighed, "And the prodigies ranked around Han Dong have help from their sectmates, so their point-earning efficiency will far surpass his."
No sooner had he finished speaking—
Someone responded, "That's right. Han Dong has strength among the top five of the Hidden Dragon ranks, but he's fighting alone. No matter how strong he is, he can't match the combined efforts of a group."
They looked at each other, speechless for a moment.
On the other side—
The Sacred Spring Sect's Martial Lord elder pointed proudly at the screen: "Our disciple Jiang Fengxuan is already ranked fifth. No matter how strong Han Dong is, he can't change the fact that he's behind in the rankings."
"Just watch."
Martial sects are the way forward for the martial world's development.
Suddenly—beep beep beep.
The rankings on the giant LCD screen shifted dramatically—Han Dong, who had been thirteenth, saw his score begin to soar continuously.
He exploded!
Like a dormant volcano erupting in dazzling brilliance!
Han Dong pushed his Inspiration to the limit, clad in a pitch-black windbreaker, racing through the forest. He tracked down General-class Demons and Specters, destroying them with overwhelming force.
As for ordinary monsters—
A casual strike was enough to kill them instantly. If any survived by luck, they were left gravely wounded and Han Dong didn't bother with them.
Demons slain!
Specters dead!
His score kept climbing.
It was insane!
The upward trend was truly crazy.
Twelfth place... Eleventh... Tenth... He didn't slow until he reached seventh place.
On the high platform—
The giant screen displayed—Seventh place: Han Dong.
"Impossible!" The Sacred Spring Sect elder exclaimed, "In just ten minutes, Han Dong shot up to seventh place? Something's wrong, there must be a problem here."
The other sect elders were equally shocked.
"Just in this short time, his score keeps skyrocketing?"
"Unless Han Dong happened to find a gathering place for Demons and Specters... No, that's not right. If he were slaughtering non-stop, the other prodigies would notice—there's no way he'd be allowed to monopolize it."
It's too strange.
Even the experienced sect elders frowned in thought, unable to figure out how Han Dong's score could rise so quickly.
Jin Qiyu of the Iron Sun Sect stood in the center.
Swish swish.
Jin Qiyu dusted off his deep-red robe, a barely detectable smile in his eyes: "Peerless? Han Dong is no longer just peerless... He's even more terrifying than peerless."
The next moment—
"Hahahaha!" The white-robed elder's eyes sparkled as he laughed, shaking the air around him. "What is the true path? This is! Just watch—Han Dong will soon surpass Jiang Fengxuan of that sect."
"Impossible! Delusional!"
The Sacred Spring Sect elder crossed his arms, full of certainty, not the least concerned by such absurd possibilities.
Han Dong wants to surpass Jiang Fengxuan?
Daydreaming!
Moments later, someone cried out.
"Look!"
Han Dong, listed as seventh on the screen, saw his score surge like a raging flood—climbing, climbing, and still climbing.
"Sixth place!"
Even among Martial Lords, whose wills are as firm as ancient stone, a wave of astonished murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"It's still climbing."
"Fifth place—he's already fifth, and it looks like even fourth can't hold him back!"
On the side—
The white-robed elder was utterly bewildered: "What's going on? This is terrifying." His earlier angry words had just been to argue with the Sacred Spring Sect elder—who could have guessed Han Dong would really surpass Jiang Fengxuan against all odds?
Can dreams really come true?
The Sacred Spring Sect elder said nothing. All the Martial Lords held their breath, and General Meng communicated with the data processing center.
No one could believe such a crazy surge!
His score kept increasing—almost every minute, it went up.
What did that mean?
It meant Han Dong could find and kill Demons and Specters every minute—a massacre, a sweeping slaughter!
"Is there a problem?"
Everyone stared at General Meng.
After a round of voice and text checks, General Meng let out a long breath, his face puzzled: "No problem—the data is perfectly fine."
What?
The Sacred Spring Sect elder was the first to doubt, wanting to speak up.
But the rankings on the screen changed again—Third place: Han Dong.
...
Within the hundred-li range of the Peerless Prodigy Battle—
Bright sunlight lazily shone on the jungle. Han Dong, like a primordial beast, began his slaughter—Demons wiped out, Specters annihilated.
Rustle rustle.
Branches parted.
Han Dong, his expression calm as a mirror lake, walked steadily out of the thorny jungle. The energy on his body burned like crackling fire—no thorns could get close.