Chapter Nine: Turning Decay into the Divine

“Very well then!”
Ye Mo thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

He considered that leaving Mo Ling alone in the cave was somewhat risky. After all, they weren’t the only survivors on the island; there were other martial artists who might have survived, and possibly unknown wild beasts as well. Mo Ling also carried several inches of precious seventh-grade Crimson Blood Vine, and leaving her alone in the cave was unsettling. It would be safer for the two of them to stay together.

Moreover, Mo Ling was the Princess of Donglai; the martial arts and cultivation techniques she practiced could not be ordinary. With his timely treatment and herbal medicine, her injuries should gradually begin to heal. Two people chopping spiritwood would be much faster than one alone.

He was still worried about Mo Ling’s condition, but given the urgency of their situation, there was little time to dwell on it.

“Let’s take advantage of the fact that there are no sea monsters on the island yet. If we chop down more spiritwood now, we can finish the spiritwood fence sooner and make our cave camp safer,” Mo Ling said as she stood up.

Ye Mo strapped the Azure Edge Sword to his waist. From the campfire, he pulled out a burning branch to use as a torch and headed toward the cave entrance.

Mo Ling gripped her sword, Ink Plum, in her slender hand and followed Ye Mo outside.

Once she emerged, Ye Mo gestured for her to lead the way, as he had no idea where the spiritwood trees were.

Mo Ling said nothing more. After glancing at the mountains behind and the forest ahead, she determined their direction and moved swiftly into the woods.

Ye Mo followed her all the way.

“This is the place! I found my Crimson Blood Vine here as well.”

In less than a quarter of an hour, Mo Ling scanned the dark forest and halted.

Ye Mo looked ahead. Before them lay an old, sparsely wooded area with about thirty trees, each over ten yards tall and as thick as a grown man’s thigh. At first glance, these trees looked more verdant than any others nearby.

“These are spiritwood trees. Judging by their size, they should be the lowest grade—first-tier spiritwood. Spiritwood grows extremely slowly; ordinary soil doesn’t suit it. Only areas rich in spiritual energy allow it to thrive. For these trees to grow so thick, they must be several centuries old at least!” Mo Ling’s eyes gleamed.

“These trees don’t look much different from the others. Are they really as hard as iron?” Ye Mo asked, curious.

As he drew closer, he noticed the bark’s grain was extremely faint—if you didn’t look closely, it seemed perfectly smooth—but the veins were straight and evenly spaced.

“First-tier spiritwood is as hard as iron. An ordinary steel sword can barely scratch it. But your Azure Edge Sword is a superior blade, forged from refined steel, far sharper than any common sword. My Ink Plum sword is a masterpiece, sharper still, even harder than spiritwood.”

“By the way, what martial arts do you practice? Do you have any techniques suited for chopping spiritwood?” Mo Ling suddenly realized a critical point. She still didn’t know Ye Mo’s true abilities.

“I practice the ‘Wave-Cleaving Technique,’” Ye Mo replied.

“‘Wave-Cleaving Technique’? I’ve never heard of it! I have heard of commoners practicing Tiger Fist, Eagle Claw, or Mantis Fist—those are sold in the marketplace! If you’re a commoner, why not practice Tiger Fist?” Mo Ling looked at Ye Mo in puzzlement.

“‘Wave-Cleaving Technique’ is the lowest grade martial art; it only costs fifty copper coins. I went to work at eight, didn’t earn much, so I bought this and never changed since. I guess there are even fewer people practicing ‘Wave-Cleaving’ than Tiger Fist or Eagle Claw—it’s not well-known. This martial art only has two moves in total,” Ye Mo replied helplessly, rubbing his nose.

The third move of the ‘Wave-Cleaving Technique,’ the ‘Surging Wave Combo Slash,’ was just an upgrade of the first move, ‘Wave-Breaking Slash’—in truth, the two were basically the same. Besides, he hadn’t mastered the third move yet.

“What… How could you? You only practice two moves? That’s too easy. Never mind, let me do the chopping. You keep watch and make sure no wild beasts come near!” Mo Ling glared at Ye Mo, her beautiful eyes full of disappointment.

Now she understood completely—Ye Mo practiced the lowest of the low martial arts, so low she’d never even heard of it. And ‘Wave-Cleaving Technique’ only had two moves. Even Tiger Fist, as poor a martial art as it was, had thirty-six hands and a hundred and eight postures, taking years to master. With just two basic moves, how strong could Ye Mo really be?

Clearly, she couldn’t count on him. Chopping spiritwood or fending off sea monsters—she’d have to rely on herself.

“Alright,” Ye Mo noticed Mo Ling’s utter disappointment.

He fell silent and tactfully stepped back a few paces.

Since childhood, he’d been busy either practicing martial arts or working to make a living, so he’d hardly ever sparred with other martial artists. He wasn’t even sure how he measured up to others.

Mo Ling, as Princess of Donglai, must have learned the highest-grade martial arts—she was surely far stronger than he was.

“Feather Spirit Slash, first form: Floating Feather!”

Mo Ling gripped her slender Ink Plum sword, targeted a spiritwood tree, and slashed down.

A cold gleam flashed.

Clang!

A crisp metallic ring sounded as if she’d struck steel. The treasured Ink Plum sword left only a faint mark on the spiritwood before bouncing off.

Mo Ling was stunned. She hadn’t even managed to cut this spiritwood with a single strike—she’d barely managed to break the bark.

“Could it be that my injuries have weakened me? But my strength couldn’t have fallen that much. I’m a mid-tier martial artist, practicing advanced techniques. I’ve mastered the entire set of moves!” Mo Ling’s face grew grim.

“Feather Spirit Slash, second form: Merciless Falling Feather!”

Unconvinced, she slashed again.

For a full incense stick’s time, she used every move she knew, hacking nearly a hundred times, but only managed to carve a one-inch gouge in the tree. Her expression grew more and more disheartened. At this rate, she wouldn’t be able to fell even one tree in a night. How could they build a spiritwood fence or a camp in the cave?

“It’s hopeless! I can’t even build a fence to keep out the sea monsters. It looks like I’ll die on this island. I’m not resigned to this! I haven’t found my grandfather, haven’t even begun my cultivation journey—how can I die on this wretched island?” Mo Ling’s despair overflowed. She bit her lip, her eyes red, almost in tears.

Ye Mo had been watching the whole time, the corners of his eyes twitching.

He realized that only a few of Mo Ling’s moves could be considered “proficient”—the rest were simply “poorly executed.” In a word, her swordsmanship was “weak.”

“Sigh, I’d better do it myself,” Ye Mo thought, setting the torch in the ground nearby. He drew the Azure Edge Sword at his waist and swung hard at the base of a spiritwood tree.

“Wave-Breaking Slash!”

With a fierce shout—

Bang!

Splinters flew.

The sword in Ye Mo’s hand whistled through the air and, with a nearly flawless strike, bit deeply into the spiritwood, following its grain and leaving a groove a full inch deep.

“It worked! The spiritwood really is as hard as they say—comparable to the shell of that young monster crab. Still, as long as I keep hacking away, inch by inch, I can cut it down,” Ye Mo thought to himself.

Remembering the threat of the young monster crab, Ye Mo redoubled his efforts, striking at the same spot again and again.

Within a short time and dozens of blows—

Crack—crunch—!

Boom!

One thick, first-tier spiritwood tree was chopped through and crashed to the ground, sending a cloud of dust and dead branches flying.

“It takes about twenty or thirty Wave-Breaking Slashes to chop through a tree this thick! If I keep this up, my ‘Wave-Breaking Slash’ will become a ‘Wood-Breaking Slash,’” Ye Mo joked to himself, shaking his slightly sore wrist.

Still, he practiced the move thousands of times a day—this was hardly difficult for him.

“You chopped it down? So quickly! What level have you reached in your martial arts technique?” Mo Ling was utterly stunned.

Using the lowest-grade ‘Wave-Cleaving Technique,’ in just a short while, Ye Mo had managed to cut down a huge, iron-hard spiritwood tree—she could hardly believe it.

“I’ve practiced the first move of ‘Wave-Cleaving Technique’ for ten years—ten million times,” Ye Mo explained.

“You practiced such a simple slashing move ten million times? Mastered a single move to the point of transforming the ordinary into the miraculous?” Mo Ling was shaken.

By the standards of martial arts proficiency, practicing a move ten thousand times is still “poor,” something anyone can do. At a hundred thousand times, it’s “proficient,” a minor achievement. At a million, it’s “masterful,” considered top-tier. At five million, it’s “peerless,” beyond compare. At ten million, it transcends the ordinary—‘turning decay into wonder’—the mark of a grandmaster.

Martial arts are all about skill and repetition. The more proficient, the greater the power.

Most martial artists spend their lives getting their moves to “masterful” at best, since there can be dozens or even hundreds of moves in a style. To make every move “proficient” takes over a decade of hard work.

No one ever takes the lowest-grade martial arts and hones a move to the level of the miraculous.

Her own ‘Feather Spirit Sword Technique’ had over a hundred moves, most of which she’d practiced only ten thousand times—at best, one move had been practiced a hundred thousand times, which was merely “proficient.” All the moves combined, she’d practiced only a few million times at most.

Compared to Ye Mo’s single move, polished to the point of the miraculous, her sword techniques were far weaker.

Mo Ling stared at Ye Mo in shock, her eyes wide as if she were looking at a grandmaster—even if this “grandmaster” had only achieved the miraculous in a single move.