Hanyuan stared at the massive carcass of the Flowing Steel Bull, then looked at his limp right arm. "Brother Yu... I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but how exactly are we going to drag this five-ton Corpse back thirty miles to the Sect? My one good arm isn't going to cut it."
Qin Yu didn't look worried. In fact, a smug, playful grin spread across his face. "Haha, Brother Hanyuan, don't underestimate the scion of a wealthy clan!"
He raised his right hand, pointing to a simple, unadorned bronze band on his middle finger. He channeled a sliver of his recovered Qi into it. Suddenly, a ripple appeared in the air, and the colossal corpse of the bull vanished as if it had never existed.
"A Storage Ring!" Hanyuan gasped, his eyes wide with envy.
He had seen those in the Sect's internal shop. Even the most basic "Three Cubic-Meter" ring cost fifty Merit Points,the equivalent of fifty low-grade spirit stones. For an Outer Disciple, that was a lot of wealth.
"My father gave it to me when I left the Qin Clan," Qin Yu explained, patting the ring. "It can fit ten of those bulls if I stack them right. Based on the market price for high quality steel hide and marrow, this Corpse alone should be worth at least fifteen to twenty Merit Points. After we turn in the Spirit-Mist Grass for twenty points, we'll be swimming in a small fortune!"
Hanyuan's pain seemed to lessen just thinking about the payout. "With my internal injuries and this arm, I won't be sprinting. The sun is dipping below the horizon... the forest will be dangerous soon. Let's find a cave."
They spent twenty minutes searching before finding a narrow crevice in a limestone cliff. On the way, they plucked a handful of Purple-Dew Berries from a bush.
Qin Yu, having recovered enough Qi, pushed a massive boulder over the cave's mouth, leaving just a sliver of space for air. They lit a small torch, casting flickering orange shadows against the damp walls, and sat down to eat their meal of berries.
"Refreshing," Hanyuan murmured, the cool juice of the berries numbing the feverish heat of his injuries. He propped his back against the stone wall, cradling his right arm. Even with his Qi supressing the injury, every twitch was painful.
They chatted for an hour,talking about the difference between clan life and the Sect,until exhaustion claimed them both.
The following morning, the first rays of dawn hadn't even pierced the cracks in the boulder when Hanyuan woke up.
His right arm was a dull, throbbing weight, so he tucked it into the sash of his robe. Grabbing his blackened steel spear with his left hand, he moved to a corner of the cave.
Thrust. Sweep. Pivot.
"One hundred... one hundred and twenty... four hundred..."
He was drenched in sweat, his movements awkward and unbalanced, but his obsidian eyes remained fierce.
An hour later, Qin Yu groaned, stretching his limbs and yawning loudly. He blinked, seeing Hanyuan in the corner. "You... you're actually practicing? With a broken arm? In a cave? Brother Hanyuan, I think you might actually be a madman."
Hanyuan stopped, his left arm trembling from the weight."Let's go. My arm needs a healing pill, I don't want to keep it waiting."
Qin Yu laughed and rolled the stone away. The morning sun blinded them for a second, the forest air fresh and filled with the songs of birds.
The journey back was far smoother. They encountered a few low-level Tier 1 beasts,Grey Striped Cats and a few Scavenger Rats,but Qin Yu handled them easily. He moved with the fluid grace of the 7th Layer, his water spiral blade finishing the fights in seconds. Each time, the corpses were sucked into his ring.
By midday, the towering grey walls of the Mystic Sky Sect loomed ahead. The guards at the gate checked their insignias and waved them through, staring briefly at Hanyuan's bloodied robes and splinted arm.
They didn't head for their stone huts. They went straight to the Mission Hall.
"We'd like to turn in a mission and sell some battle spoils," Qin Yu said to the deacon behind the counter.
Hanyuan stood back as Qin Yu began to unload the haul. Ten stalks of Spirit-Mist Grass... several Tier 1 cat pelts... and finally, with a heavy thud that shook the floorboards, the massive, steel-hided body of the Flowing Steel Bull.
The deacon, a middle-aged man, actually paused, his eyebrows shooting up toward his hairline. "You two... killed a High-Rank 8th Layer Flowing Steel Bull? By yourselves?"
Qin Yu offered a small smile. "It didn't go down without a fight, Deacon."
"I can see that," the man muttered, reaching for his ledger. "Let's tally your points. This is going to be quite the payout for two new disciples."
The deacon tapped his brush against the ledger, his eyes flitting between the massive bull and the two bloody youths.
"Ten stalks of Spirit-Mist Grass: 20 Merit Points. One High-Rank Tier 1 Flowing Steel Bull: 20 Merit Points. The remaining auxiliary beast parts: 10 Merit Points. Total: 50 Merit Points." He looked at them with a hint of begrudging respect. "Since it was a joint mission, your jade slips have been credited with 25 points each. Take them."
Hanyuan accepted his slip, watching the faint glow of the runes update. Adding the twenty-five points to his remaining fourteen spirit stones, he now possessed a total of thirty-nine. To a boy from a small City, this felt like an immense treasure.
"Brother Hanyuan, don't just stand there gawking!" Qin Yu nudged him with a grin as they walked out into the crisp mountain air. "Let's head to the Outer Disciple Shopping District. We need to fix those Internal Injuries and that arm, and then we're going to find you a real weapon."
"A real weapon?" Hanyuan glanced down at the blackened steel spear in his left hand. The shaft was littered with hairline fractures from the bull's impact, and the iron tip was dull and chipped.
"Your current spear is just a mortal tool," Qin Yu explained as they navigated the bustling street lined with stalls and pavilions. "It was fine for basic training, but as a cultivator using Spirit-rank techniques, you're pushing it past its limits. You need a Spirit-grade weapon. They're engraved with Qi conduction runes; they're sharper, harder, and they won't shatter when you hit something iron-clad."
Hanyuan hesitated. "How much does a Spirit-grade spear even cost?"
"A low grade one? About twenty spirit stones," Qin Yu said nonchalantly. "But look at the bright side! You have nearly forty stones. You're 'wealthy' now! Plus, now that we know we can handle Mid-grade missions, the sky's the limit."
They entered the Sect's official Armory, a sprawling building that smelled of ozone, cold oil, and hammered metal. On the walls hung rows of gleaming weapons that vibrated with faint auras.
An old woman with skin like crumpled parchment and a pair of spectacles perched on her nose looked up from a counter. She didn't radiate any Qi, but like many in the Sect, her gaze felt heavy and discerning. "First-year disciples? Looking to upgrade your weapons?" she asked with a dry smile.
Hanyuan ignored the jab and walked toward the spear rack. Most were basic steel, but toward the back, he saw a group of weapons kept under glass. One caught his eye immediately.
It was a deep, midnight-blue spear. The shaft was forged from Frost-Iron, and the head was long and tapered, etched with crystalline runes that resembled drifting clouds.
"That one," Hanyuan said, pointing with his good hand. "How much?"
The old woman stepped over and pulled the weapon from its case. "This is the Cold Cloud Spear. It was forged in the valley's frost-vents. It increases the potency of Ice element Qi by ten percent and has high durability against blunt force. The price is twenty six spirit stones."
Hanyuan felt a pang in his heart. Twenty-six stones was a massive chunk of his savings. But when the woman handed the spear to him, the metal felt alive. It was cold,bitingly so,but as it touched his palm, it felt like an extension of his own Arms. The weight was perfectly balanced, and the blackened steel of his old weapon suddenly looked like a toy.
"I'll take it," Hanyuan said, pulling out his jade slip.
He also purchased a High-Rank Tier 1 Bone-Knitting Pill for three spirit stones. By the time they walked out of the shop, Hanyuan looked down at the remaining tally on his slip.
Ten spirit stones left.
"I spent almost thirty stones in ten minutes," Hanyuan muttered, sounding slightly dazed. "I'm poor again, Brother Yu."
Qin Yu laughed, "Wealth is meant to be spent, Hanyuan! You have a good weapon now."
They parted ways at the row of stone huts. Hanyuan entered his courtyard, barred the door, and slumped against the wall. The excitement was fading, replaced by the throbbing pain of his cracked arm and ribs.
He sat cross-legged and swallowed the Bone-Knitting Pill. the sensation was warm and thick, feeling like molten wax spreading through his skeletal system. He closed his eyes, his left hand resting on his Spear, and began the process of healing.