Chapter 8: Brute Force and Subtle Skill

At dawn, the first ray of sunlight pierced through the dense forest, and Chu Feng awoke.

His strong, flowing hair caught his attention. Overnight, it had grown another handspan in length. The spot where he had rested last night now bore a deep impression, nearly an inch deep, outlining his body’s shape.

A smile appeared on Chu Feng’s face—this was the manifestation of his latent power. Even in sleep, his body had released hidden strength, imprinting his silhouette into the hard ground.

“Hm? My muscles can be both rigid and supple? My body feels lighter and more agile. This must be the effect of eating the python meat!”

Chu Feng suddenly realized that the muscles throughout his body, when exerting force, bulged like small mountains, hard as steel, exaggerating his physique to an almost intimidating degree. It was reminiscent of a cobra’s expanded neck when angered, enough to threaten any foe.

Yet, as soon as he relaxed, the muscles returned to their normal state and his body shrank back to its usual size. The change was like an umbrella opening and closing.

Chu Feng drew a deep breath and tried to circulate energy within his body.

Centered on his dantian, five fist-sized spheres of muscle rolled toward his limbs, slowly pressing to the tips before rolling back again.

This exercise was called “driving force,” also known as “walking force.” In the second realm of body refinement, practitioners focus on training their internal power: three parts training, seven parts walking. Mere training without walking is as clumsy as an ox.

Martial artists often overdevelop or distort certain muscle groups if they neglect walking force, which not only deforms the physique but impedes the transmission of power throughout the body.

The five muscle spheres rolled swiftly through Chu Feng’s limbs and waist, and he closed his eyes in comfort. It was as if loosening the soil of a field—relaxed muscles could store and release power more effectively.

“In the past at the Fear Gate, I often saw Xiong Wu showing off his walking force in front of others. I envied him greatly. Now, I too can walk force—and my results are far better than his!”

With his growing strength, Chu Feng felt a touch of nostalgia.

The golden giant python was indeed a treasure; its tens of thousands of muscle fibers were highly developed and rich in nutrients. After consuming dozens of pounds of python meat, Chu Feng’s muscles had not only become stronger but gained both hardness and flexibility, echoing the python’s unique constitution.

The golden giant python was both supple and strong. Supple as water, moving silently through the forest despite its nearly two-thousand-pound bulk; strong as rock, able to crush wild elephants and grind boulders to dust with its tens of thousands of muscles.

After finishing his walking force exercise, Chu Feng guessed the morning market had already begun.

He had chopped the golden giant python into countless pieces and stored them in his pouch. Though the pouch could hold meat, low-level storage bags lacked preservation abilities. Fortunately, this was beast meat, which wouldn’t spoil for over a month.

Chu Feng left the forest to seek books at the morning market.

From the second realm of body refinement, martial artists must study various manuals, secrets, and techniques to aid their growth.

The "Grand Martial Force Manual" was a common training technique, easily found in the market for a single gold coin.

Chu Feng used the gold coin he had taken from the mountain leopard to purchase this manual.

“While buying the book, I saw a fox-headed eagle flying overhead. Has the Fear Gate decided to hunt me down in the Tianji Mu clan’s territory?”

Chu Feng pondered. The fox-headed eagle, a creature halfway between wild and savage beast, belonged exclusively to the Fear Gate. Used for hunting enemies, once it smelled someone’s clothing and memorized their scent, it could fly hundreds of miles to locate its prey.

Thinking it over, Chu Feng decided to set aside these worries and focus on training for a day, cherishing this rare, undisturbed place. He aimed to master the force training and reach the third realm of body refinement as soon as possible.

After eating the python’s meat and gall, Chu Feng had not only gained the python’s constitution but its temperament. He yearned to rush out and slaughter his enemies, but reason told him that, having just reached the second realm, he was still too weak. Strengthening his body was the true path.

Following the illustrations in the "Grand Martial Force Manual," force training began with the arms, then the legs, then the head, then the chest and back, and finally the whole body, until power flowed like silk throughout his entire being.

“What? To reach the stage where power flows through the whole body and force is as fine as silk, ordinary martial artists take five to eight years; those with talent, two years; those with both resources and talent, more than three months! Achieving mastery in seven days is extremely rare—a genius among geniuses?”

Reading this annotation, Chu Feng felt a jolt.

He had thought that with effort, three or five days would suffice. He hadn’t expected force training to be so prolonged—measured in years. If someone mastered it in a few months, that was extraordinary.

“Train, then! Instead of yearning by the riverside, I’ll cast my net. Let’s begin!”

Chu Feng banished his melancholy and threw himself into the exercise.

He started with his arms, using the thick trees as training targets.

Bang! Bang!

Punch after punch, Chu Feng’s fierce fists hammered the trunks, felling a tree with barely a dozen blows.

The training was monotonous, but Chu Feng endured.

After half an hour, his face was unflushed, breath steady, and his punches grew more powerful. He placed his fist an inch from the trunk and suddenly exerted force; his arm muscles rippled like waves.

Crack!

The tree snapped cleanly.

“Impossible! After only half an hour, my arm strength is almost perfected? Let me test my finger strength.”

Excited, Chu Feng approached another tall tree, extended his index finger, and pressed it against the trunk, gradually increasing his strength.

As his force built, the hard soil around the roots loosened, and the trunk tilted slowly, then further still.

With a single breath, the towering tree fell silently. Throughout its descent, not a leaf quivered, as if a man had lain down gently.

“The manual says this finger force is driven by soft power and can be used to practice silk palm techniques. My brute strength is formidable, able to break trunks with a single punch; my finesse is strong enough to topple a tree. Could it be that my arm training is already mastered? Next, I can train my legs?”

Chu Feng was beside himself. According to the manual, most martial artists needed over a year to master arm force; even geniuses took a month. Yet he had succeeded in just half an hour.

This was miraculous.

He immediately realized it must be the python meat and gall dramatically enhancing his physique. Otherwise, even the most resourceful martial artists from the Nine Mysteries Sect or the Tianji Mu clan couldn’t match his progress—a half hour of training that equaled a year’s hard work.

“Haha! Let’s see how far this golden python meat can take me! Let’s see how far I can go! Train! Relentlessly, tirelessly, wholeheartedly!”

Chu Feng’s intense fighting spirit and martial resolve were fully ignited by his achievement. He felt his sole duty was to train force with all his might.

He trained for another hour.

Crack!

Crack!

With a powerful sweep of his leg, a stump barely a foot long but as thick as a basin was kicked high into the air, landing far away in the river.

Now, Chu Feng’s legs were like hammers and blades; he could kick, stomp, sweep, and strike—crushing like a hammer or slicing like a knife.

Take his recent “leg blade”: sweeping his foot across the stump, it didn’t shatter but was sliced cleanly, like a knife cutting tofu.

Taking a deep breath, Chu Feng pressed his feet onto a rock, exerted force, and when he stepped away, two-inch-deep footprints remained. This wasn’t particularly impressive, but he was satisfied—the rock itself hadn’t sunk at all.

Chu Feng’s control over his strength was growing; all his power was focused on the surface, leaving only imprints while the rock remained untouched.

This proved his brute and finesse leg power had reached mastery.

Without pause, Chu Feng began training his head.

Most martial artists didn’t train their heads for attack, but to fortify their defense, so that when struck, they could withstand heavy blows.

For an entire hour, Chu Feng strengthened his head.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Three headbutts, three trees snapped cleanly.

Boom!

He headbutted a boulder, shattering it into several pieces.

Picking up a sharp, cone-shaped stone, Chu Feng drove it against his head. With a crisp sound, the hard stone crumbled like ancient, weathered sandstone.

“In just three hours, force training for my arms, legs, and head is complete! At this rate, another hour or two and I’ll finish the whole process!”

Chu Feng was deeply satisfied—the golden python meat had not been eaten in vain. He had been reborn, and his speed was something few geniuses could even dream of.

Suddenly, a sharp eagle cry echoed from deep in the woods, piercing the air.

Chu Feng’s gaze swept over, instantly spotting a fox-headed eagle perched motionless atop a tall tree dozens of yards away, its cold eyes fixed on him.

Man and beast locked eyes, each sensing the other’s hostility.

The eagle cried again, unable to withstand Chu Feng’s gaze, and took flight.

After eating the python, Chu Feng’s body had gained strength, and his eyes now carried the force of a python staring down prey. His gaze could attack enemies, and though this power was still weak, it was enough to startle a cautious, cunning beast like the fox-headed eagle.

“Bear House at the Fear Gate: its patriarch, Bear Zhan, has four sons! Besides Bear Zhan—the big tiger—there are Bear Wei, Bear Wu, Bear Gang, and Bear Meng. Bear Gang and Bear Meng always bring fox-headed eagles when they travel. Now that the eagle is here, Bear Gang and Bear Meng must be nearby!”

Chu Feng thought to himself, looked at his fists, and knew it was time for them to taste the blood of his enemies.