Inside the next floor, it was like stepping into yet another world.

Unlike the first floor, which was mostly a white room with only a path, this time there were a bunch of scrolls floating in the air.

“Are they Martial Techniques?”

Bai Zihan mumbled as he stared at the scrolls.

An eerie quiet enveloped him as he was alone in the room.

Then—

BOOM!

A flash of light tore through the space ahead, and the silhouette of the Remnant Soul emerged again.

The Remnant’s form flickered erratically, its illusionary robe slightly disheveled. And its expression?

Let’s just say… It looked like it had swallowed a fly.

“You,” the Remnant said, voice strained, like it was trying very hard not to lose its temper. “Are finally here.”

Bai Zihan raised a brow.

“You don’t sound happy to see me.”

“… I have no idea what you are saying. Anyway, you don’t seem like someone who wants my inheritance.”

The Remnant said, a bit curious now.

“What? No way! Did I win it?”

Bai Zihan asked excitedly.

Of course, there was no way he had won it already.

The Remnant was probably just pissed that he was taking something like getting an Immortal Emperor’s Inheritance so lightly.

Judging by the look on her face, she clearly thought Bai Zihan would move straight to the next trial after her warning.

Which he didn’t.

“No!”

The Remnant flat-out answered.

“Tsk! Why are you asking then?”

Bai Zihan clicked his tongue.

“…”

After another moment of silence, the Immortal Emperor’s Remnant finally opened her mouth again.

“You’ve passed the first test.”

She continued.

“The second trial begins now!”

“This is the Hall of Martial Echoes. Within the scrolls are all the Martial Arts I learned when I was young. Most of them are Heaven-Grade and below.”

“This is both your opportunity and your test. You can only choose one Martial Technique. Comprehend it. Reach Minor Mastery, and you shall qualify for the next trial!”

Then—poof—the Remnant faded into smoke.

Bai Zihan blinked.

“Oh, someone’s cranky today.”

He then turned his attention to the scrolls floating in the air.

Hundreds—no, thousands—of Martial Arts Techniques hovered all around him.

Just goes to show how many Martial Arts Immortal Emperor Feilian had comprehended.

And to think this was only what she learned when she was young.

(Young… What age is that?)

Bai Zihan thought curiously.

For someone who could live for eternity, even a thousand years might be “young.”

At the very least, he was pretty sure it didn’t mean she was twelve like how he considered someone when they say that they are young.

Judging by the number of Martial Arts here?

She was at least over a hundred when she was still “young.”

Anyways, Bai Zihan strolled down the rows, scanning his options like a kid in a candy shop.

[Crimson Thunder Palm – Profound Grade]

[Heavenly Dragon Bone Crush Art – Heaven Grade]

[Voidstep Mirage – Earth Grade]

[Soaring Frost Wind Blade – Earth Grade]

[Endless Spear of the Sea – Profound Grade]

[Eternal Flowing Water Sword – Heaven Grade]

He paused at the last one.

“Sword Technique, huh?”

He tapped his chin.

If he wanted to comprehend a technique quickly, a sword technique was obviously the way to go.

He already had Intermediate Sword Intent, which was basically a cheat code for this kind of thing.

But he wasn’t just here to show off.

He needed something useful and a Heaven-Grade Defensive Technique would cover his current weakness perfectly.

“I already have Nine Shadows Flowing Light. With a Heaven-Grade defensive technique, I won’t have any flaws.”

Without further drama, he placed his palm on the scroll.

The Eternal Flowing Water Sword unfurled before his eyes, not as words, but as glowing images made of light—sword arcs like rivers, footwork like drifting leaves, each strike more graceful than the last.

A serene female voice echoed in his mind, guiding the way.

“Flow like the mountain spring—yield when struck, strike when pulled. Water does not fight; it endures and outlasts.”

For most cultivators, they couldn’t make out what those words mean.

But Bai Zihan?

He smirked.

His Sword Intent pulsed faintly, silver lines of power swirling around him as the technique unfolded in full.

Every form, every step, every twist of the sword—the moment he saw it, his Sword Intent resonated.

He understood.

This wasn’t about brute force.

It wasn’t even about defense.

It was about being untouchable.

***

Eternal Flowing Water Sword – Basic Principle:

Instead of clashing, each motion redirected the enemy’s power.

When a blade came down, the water would swirl—turning the impact into a glancing slide.

When pressure mounted, the technique gave ground, then returned twice as dangerous—like a whirlpool pulling everything in.

Redirection. Dissipation. Flow.

Three core pillars!

***

Bai Zihan sat cross-legged, eyes closed.

The Eternal Spirit Sword at his waist floated out on its own and hovered above the ground, spinning slowly.

He raised his hand and began guiding it through the air, mimicking the movements etched into his mind.

Each slash created a ripple.

Each ripple flowed into the next.

Within moments, a small current of wind gathered around him.

Soft, but deadly.

Like the surface of a calm pond with a beast lurking just beneath.

Thirty minutes in—the wind was stronger.

Forty-five minutes—he was redirecting his own strikes in a loop, turning momentum on itself, feeding it into the next move.

By the time the hour mark hit—a full water current danced around his sword, glowing faintly with Sword Qi.

At the same time, space cracked open—

BOOM!

The Remnant Soul returned, robes flaring from the burst of Qi.

She stared at him.

Mouth slightly open.

Brows twitching.

“You…”

She blinked.

“You… already reached Minor Mastery? A Heaven-Grade Technique? In less than an hour?”

Bai Zihan yawned.

“Mmm… it’s not that hard,” he said casually.

“I sense Sword Intent. Did you achieve it?”

The Remnant asked.

Bai Zihan nodded.

“Show me!”

She demanded.

Bai Zihan didn’t think much of it.

He used the Eternal Flowing Water Sword technique, layered with his Intermediate Sword Intent—making it even more ridiculous.

“Are you convinced?”

He asked, casually brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve.

“Intermediate Sword Intent?!!”

The Remnant muttered.

“…Even I wasn’t that talented in my youth,” she said, voice laced with genuine disbelief.

Bai Zihan smiled like someone who’d just been told water was wet.

“Understandable,” he replied. “Not everyone can be me.”

The Remnant: “…”

She hovered there, visibly resisting the urge to short-circuit from indignation.

But eventually, she exhaled, and a slow smile curled across her lips.

“Good. Very good! Then you are qualified for the final trial!”

The space behind him trembled.

“Oh! Already the final trial? That was fast.”

Bai Zihan said.

Normally, this whole thing should’ve taken days.

Just the first trial should’ve taken hours. The second? A day or two at least, even for top talents.

But who could’ve predicted him?

With Intermediate Sword Intent, comprehending sword techniques was easier than breathing.

The Remnant didn’t say anything else.

She no longer bothered commenting on his arrogance.

After all, if arrogance is all he has, he is sure to fail the last trial.

The white room began to break apart, revealing a spiraling stair of light that led upward into the void.

The third trial awaited.

And Bai Zihan?

He just stretched his arms with a lazy smirk.

“All right! Let’s not waste any more time.”

Then he stepped forward—completely relaxed.

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