“You haven’t got any merit points yet, I reckon? But you can still feast your eyes,” the old keeper said with a chuckle.
“Fair enough. I’ll take a look.”
Lin Yun stepped into the third floor.
*Thunderbolt Golden Eyes*, *Primordial Immortal Body*, *Mystic Heaven Technique*…
“All top stuff,” Lin Yun muttered, eyes gleaming.
He knew these Heaven-grade manuals were ace but a nightmare to master.
*Sky-Bearing Sword Art*, Heaven-grade sword technique, five million merit points. Lin Yun sighed inwardly—landing *Shadow Sword Art* direct was pure luck. Snagging Heaven-grade stuff otherwise? A slog!
Beyond manuals, Heaven-grade weapons too! Rumored to be a game-changer. Shame he could only drool.
“Kid, itching for this lot, eh?” The old keeper’s voice piped up behind him.
“Course I am, but no merit points to trade,” Lin Yun said,无奈 shrugging.
“Merit points are a grind to earn—especially heaps like this,” the old keeper noted.
Then he pivoted, “Still, you caught His Majesty’s eye for a reason. With your status, racking up points shouldn’t be too tough. Impress him, he might chuck you some—or even gift a Heaven-grade manual outright.”
Lin Yun gave a wry smile.
“Sir, I might’ve botched impressing him. He gave me a Heaven-grade sword art—master three forms, see him. Three years in, I’m nowhere,” Lin Yun said, deflated.
He wasn’t sure why he spilled that. Maybe three years bottling it up—alone, no one to vent to. Now, prodded, it just tumbled out.
“Oh? Not *Shadow Sword Art*, is it?” the old keeper asked, curious.
“Yeah, how’d you know?” Lin Yun blinked, shocked.
A keeper knowing that much?
“*Shadow Sword Art*—His Majesty’s brainchild. Years of swordplay, blending the best of countless styles—blood, sweat, and tears. Outclasses most Heaven-grade stuff, but the grind’s off the charts,” the old keeper explained.
He shifted gears, “Since you’re calling me ‘sir’, here’s a tip: grab a bunch of sword manuals—low-tier ones too. Flip through ‘em. Might spark something. Don’t fixate on one.”
“Loads of sword manuals?” Lin Yun froze.
“I’m no hotshot—take it as old man ramblings if you like,” the keeper said.
“Nah, I reckon you’re onto something!” Lin Yun’s eyes lit up.
He’d always drilled one manual—never thought to browse heaps, especially not low-tier ones he’d ignored.
The keeper’s words cracked open a new angle!
“Sir, I’ll head off then!”
Lin Yun clasped his fists, bolted from the third floor—too fired up to browse more.
Down to floor two—snagged one Holy Spirit-grade sword manual, fifty super-divine ones. Then floor one—scooped a thousand more: divine, pseudo-divine, top-tier, high-tier—the lot!
Buying this stash nearly cleaned out his spirit crystals.
Paying up, floor one and two keepers double-checked, “You sure about all these sword manuals?”
They warned him it’s a waste of cash.
Lin Yun insisted—they dropped it, but their looks screamed *nutter*. Spending big on middling sword stuff? Baffling.
Cash paid, Lin Yun legged it from the treasury—back to Fire Cloud Camp!
Back home, he handed the token to Liang Qing for her use, warned her he’s locking in again, then zipped to his room—into One Thought Clarity Tower.
“What a grafter,” Liang Qing muttered, watching him dive back in.
She prided herself on effort—but next to Lin Yun? She felt slack!
Inside the Tower, Lin Yun blanked his mind—shed all pressure—then laid out his 1,500-plus sword manuals.
Three years chasing *Shadow Sword Art*’s third form—pure grind mindset. Now, he ditched that—approached these with a fresh, open curiosity.
…
Meanwhile, Palace—Divine Connection Hall.
“Master, three years up. Your disciple hasn’t shown. Looks like he’s not cracked it,” the red-furred cat hopped onto the Emperor’s shoulder.
“Maybe my bar was too high. He’s not the freak I thought,” Emperor Fire Cloud said, unruffled.
He’d clocked Lin Yun—a backwater monk from the Three Thousand Lesser Worlds—forty years old, super-divine soul-sense, five mysteries down pat, body techniques on point. Freak-tier talent in his eyes!
His standards? Sky-high. A true prodigy’s a once-in-10,000-years find.
He knew *Shadow Sword Art* in three years was brutal—decent talent might need a century. With Mindforce Land, he’d figured nine years total.
For his “freak”, third form should’ve been doable. He’d aimed too lofty.
Peach Sis, camp boss, stepped into the hall. Three years—every six months—she’d reported on Lin Yun. Always the same: shut in, training.
“Peach Willow, no more reports needed. Off you go,” Emperor Fire Cloud said calmly.
“Yes, sir.” She bowed, backed out.
…
Back in One Thought Clarity Tower.
Lin Yun flipped through the manuals—and bam—fresh vibes hit.
Low-tier or not, some had unique flair. Like *Silk Rain Swordplay*—water mystery fused with sword moves—proper distinct!
He read slow—pondered—weighed pros and cons.
Even rubbish low-tier stuff—his sharp eye caught flaws fast. But sometimes, a gem of an idea hid in the muck.
Browsing, he’d laugh out loud—sink into thought—or leap up, sword swinging, testing moves…
*Shadow Sword Art*? Shoved clean out of his head!
