The Reborn Pill Emperor/C8 Wind Devil Sword Technique
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The Reborn Pill Emperor/C8 Wind Devil Sword Technique
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C8 Wind Devil Sword Technique

Observing Ye Jian's unwavering stance, Ye Jin felt a flicker of intimidation. Since assuming the role of patriarch, Ye Jian seldom displayed such firmness during the ancestral temple assemblies. "So, what's our next move?" Ye Jin quickly steered the conversation away from the uncomfortable subject.

Today's ancestral temple meeting revolved around a pivotal issue. The clash between Ye Bufan and Lin Feiyang had transcended a mere personal duel—it symbolized the might of the Ye and Lin families, influencing the allegiance of formidable warriors in the future.

In this realm, every influential clan nurtured talents akin to the ancient retainers of China—individuals with martial prowess or exceptional skills in various domains. These often came from humble origins, seeking patronage from the powerful houses to secure a prominent role and a better station in life.

Hence, their choice of a house to serve was heavily influenced by its strength. The confrontation between Ye Bufan and Lin Feiyang thus carried significant political weight, with the stakes of victory being high for the future of both families.

"Should there be any concerns, feel free to voice them," Ye Jian, as the family head, prompted, redirecting the focus back to the matter at hand after Ye Jin refrained from further criticism of Ye Bufan.

A hush settled over the grand hall; no one uttered a word.

It was then that a family retainer entered. "Family head, young master Ye Tianzhan seeks an audience."

"Show him in," commanded Ye Jian with a wave of his hand, prompting the retainer to exit.

Ye Tianzhan, son of Ye Kuang and the most formidable among the Ye family's third-generation disciples, was a seventh-level Power Stage warrior. He was the eldest and had inherited his father's tenacious spirit, relentlessly seeking breakthroughs in the martial path. Even the Ye family's second-generation uncles frequently found themselves challenged by him. Despite being soundly defeated each time, he would bounce back, ready to challenge them again after a period of recovery.

The uncles weren't overly severe; it was simply that this young man was relentless. Defeat him today, and he'd return tomorrow. Refuse him, and he'd dog your steps all day until you relented. Eventually, the family devised a strategy to ensure some peace—at least temporarily.

Under rigorous training, Ye Tianzhan's combat prowess had become significantly stronger than that of an average Seventh Rank in the Power Stage.

"I volunteer to take my younger brother's place and fight Lin Feiyang!" Ye Tianzhan entered the hall, bowed to everyone, and immediately shared his intention.

A flicker of concern crossed Ye Kuang's eyes, yet he also felt a sense of pride; the boy bore a striking resemblance to his younger self.

Before Ye Jian could respond, Ye Jin interjected, "Ridiculous! The duel between Ye Bufan and Lin Feiyang is the talk of Cloud Peak City. If you step in now, what will people think of our Ye family? And with your Seventh Rank strength, you're no match for Lin Feiyang."

"I was on the verge of breaking through to the Eighth Rank of Power Stage yesterday!" Ye Tianzhan stated, without further justification.

The Eighth Rank of Power Stage? At last, the third generation of the Ye family had produced someone of this caliber!

For years, the Lin family boasted an Eighth Rank Power Stage in Lin Feiyang, and the Yun family had a Ninth Rank Power Stage behemoth, both of whom had overshadowed the Ye family's third generation. Now, with the emergence of an Eighth Rank in the Ye family, joy was palpable among those gathered in the ancestral temple.

The Great Elder opened his eyes, glanced at Ye Tianzhan, and simply nodded his approval.

"Tianzhan, the duel between Bufan and Lin Feiyang isn't something anyone can just step into. Your offer is appreciated, nephew," Ye Jian said. Though Ye Tianzhan was devoted to his martial practice, he always showed concern for his siblings, a fact well-known within the Ye family. Had he not been solely focused on martial arts, he would have been groomed as the family's successor.

"If Third Brother loses, I will face Lin Feiyang in the Life and Death Arena!" With that declaration, Ye Tianzhan left the ancestral temple, indifferent to the reactions around him.

The Ye family's lingering concern seemed resolved; even if Ye Bufan were to lose, they had Ye Tianzhan as their ace. Despite only recently advancing to the Eighth Rank of Power Stage—a full year behind Lin Feiyang—the Ye family had faith in Ye Tianzhan, whose combat experience was unparalleled among his peers.

Despite Ye Bufan's recent display of diligence, his efforts were met with skepticism due to his past behavior. Even Ye Jian, who had noticed his son's transformation and felt a deep sense of relief, remained unconvinced that Ye Bufan could triumph over Lin Feiyang in the upcoming Life and Death Arena. The two were separated by a significant gap in their cultivation levels, and Ye Jian was all too aware of his son's physical limitations.

As another fortnight slipped by, the decisive confrontation at the Life and Death Arena loomed just a week away.

Emerging from the bathtub, Ye Bufan observed the medicinal liquid that had turned from crystal clear to a murky, foul-smelling mess. It was a clear sign that the concoction had served its purpose, expelling the remnants of his past misdeeds and significantly bolstering his physique. The only constant was the black bead pattern on his dantian, which remained unchanged and nearly forgotten, only catching his attention during rare moments of nudity.

"Ye Ding, empty the bathtub," Ye Bufan commanded. He had previously forbidden anyone from entering his room, fearing that overzealous servants might inadvertently ruin the potent medicine he had so carefully prepared. Now, with no need for such caution, he instructed the servant to dispose of the wastewater.

While Ye Bufan's earlier training methods had been met with confusion, they at least showcased his dedication. What followed, however, would truly astonish onlookers.

The longsword, crafted to Ye Bufan's exact specifications and thoroughly inspected, was promptly relegated to the attic, no longer of concern to him. He ceased his visits to the Martial Arts Hall, choosing instead to stand before the man-made waterfall on the Ye family's back mountain. There, with hands clasped behind his back and eyes firmly shut, he would remain motionless for hours on end, his demeanor echoing that of the Great Elder—though no one believed he could meditate with the same efficacy.

Ye Jian made a point of observing his son from a distance each day, careful not to intrude upon his solitude. He refrained from offering any advice on Ye Bufan's cultivation, allowing him to pursue his own path in silence.

Ye Jian reflected that since Ye Bufan's return from the forest, the young man had matured significantly. Gone were the days when he indulged solely in frivolity—eating, drinking, and reveling without a care. Although his approach to cultivation might seem a bit like cutting corners, Ye Jian could understand the impetuousness of youth. He knew that once Ye Bufan hit an obstacle, he would settle down and focus on his training. By then, offering guidance would be far more effective than trying to forcefully steer his cultivation now.

Regarding Ye Bufan's upcoming match with Lin Feiyang, Ye Jian harbored some concerns. Still, he trusted that the Lin family, not wishing to escalate to a bitter feud with the Ye family, would not let the contest turn lethal. And perhaps, suffering a few wounds might even benefit Ye Bufan in the long run.

On the sixth day, Ye Bufan returned to the waterfall, this time with a long sword in hand. Crafted from superior quality iron, the blade gleamed snow-white. He christened it "Pure Jun."

Half an hour later, Ye Bufan's eyes snapped open, and with a resonant clang, Pure Jun was drawn from its sheath! Bathed in sunlight, the blade cast a brilliant gleam.

The once motionless Ye Bufan now brandished his sword with a flurry of movements so swift that his form blurred. He seemed to enter a trance, where the sword was not only an extension of his hand but also an embodiment of his spirit.

"Sky Flipping Bird Flying, Rolling on the ground without a speck of dust. In a single strike, it's as if the breeze itself has vanished, leaving no trace of the sword. Amidst myriad transformations, the sword is seen, yet the swordsman is not."

The Wind Devil Sword Technique! Renowned for its speed, it was the legacy of the legendary martial artist known as Wind Devil Son. With this technique, he was peerless among his equals in the Cultivation World. Generations later, one of his descendants pleaded with Ye Bufan for help with alchemy, only to be coerced into parting with a copy of the technique.

Ye Bufan, initially driven by curiosity, had merely glanced over the technique before setting it aside. Little did he know that this world would one day see him wield the Wind Devil Sword Technique to such effect.

Sword shadows tumbled across the expanse! A shimmering silver light danced upon the vast lawn, yet Ye Bufan was nowhere to be seen.

"Such incredible speed!" From a distance, Ye Jian watched in awe as Ye Bufan unleashed his sword technique. It was a style unseen even within the Ye family, let alone in Ye Jian's own experience.

It seemed only the slender sword in Ye Bufan's grasp could lend such lightness and grace to the technique. But where had he learned such extraordinary swordplay? The sword itself, though, appeared too light, perhaps lacking a bit in strength.

With a flicker of thought, Ye Jian scooped up a pebble and snapped it with his finger. "Whoosh..." Like a bullet, the stone hurtled toward the silver glow on the lawn.

At that moment, Ye Bufan was utterly immersed in the essence of his swordsmanship, oblivious to the incoming pebble. As it penetrated the veil of his swordplay, the stone disintegrated into dust, dispersing in the air.

Ye Jian's keen vision confirmed the pebble's demise, deepening his astonishment. That flick had carried the force of the Ninth Rank of Power Stage, yet it failed to breach Ye Bufan's radiant sword light, much less reach him.

Had Ye Bufan not been in a delicate and profound state of focus, Ye Jian would have leapt forward to demand an explanation.

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