The Demon Lords

Chapter 475 3 Little cutie_1

"This name is good; it's relevant and straightforward."

Zheng Fan clapped his hands, and this matter was settled just like that.

The little sword boy was stunned. She really couldn't understand how this 'boss' had just casually settled on her name like that.

The thought of how she would be called for the next twenty years: Wench, have you eaten yet? Wench, good morning! Wench, nice weather today, isn't it?

The little sword boy was ready to explode, but the way a smart person loses their cool is different from the way a fool does.

Then, the little sword boy asked, "How long have you been stuck at the Eighth Rank?"

"Eh?"

Zheng Fan was about to hold Siniang's hand and go review yesterday's needling techniques, but when he heard the little sword boy's words, he immediately stopped. He sat back down in his reclining chair, crossed his legs, and a smile spread across his face.

He said, "I feel like it's been a long time, but it also doesn't seem like it's been *that* long."

If one only calculated the time spent training, Zheng Fan would undoubtedly be a genius. Not only Ding Hao but also Li Fusheng had confirmed this. His inner vitality was inherently rich, the perfect foundation for a martial arts prodigy.

But there was no way around it; he was under tremendous pressure.

He carried the burden of seven Demon Kings' progress. If he remained stuck at the same rank for too long, he could almost see a cannibalistic desire in the Demon Kings' eyes!

It felt like an old landlord returning home to find a dozen or so mistresses staring daggers at him.

"I can help you advance from the Eighth Rank to the Seventh Rank."

"What's your rank?"

"I don't have one," replied the little sword boy nonchalantly. "My master told me I was born as a Sword Embryo, with innate Sword Intent. Training with a sword is like practicing martial arts; it's detrimental to practice martial arts forcibly before one's bones are fully developed and set.

"I may not have a rank, but I have a discerning eye."

"King of Talk?"

"What king? What talk?" The little sword boy frowned slightly.

The blind man quietly put down his teacup, urging, "Keep talking."

Zheng Fan's advancement was a pivotal issue. If the Demon Kings could recover another level of strength, they would have more flexibility in their future arrangements. At the very least, if all the Demon Kings reached the Seventh Rank, their power at that level was almost invincible. This would mean Zheng Fan would have seven masters, ranking between the Sixth and Seventh Ranks, by his side. Most importantly, some individuals' special abilities could also become usable.

The little sword boy was most afraid of the blind man, as he seemed to see through most people's characters. Therefore, she didn't dare provoke him and quickly said, "Martial artists and swordsmen actually follow the same path up to the Seventh Rank; this is where they begin to diverge.

"For a martial artist, the focus is on nurturing their own vitality. They use strength to shape the body and qi to break through cultivation barriers, allowing their vitality to freely contract and expand. When their vitality becomes unified, they can reach the Seventh Rank.

"For swordsmen, at this point, they temporarily set aside vitality cultivation. They focus on nurturing their Sword Intent, using it to command their vitality, and in turn, using their vitality to supplement their Sword Intent. When their Sword Intent is projected outward, they can reach the Seventh Rank.

"Although their methods seem different, they are essentially the same. They both aim to project their vitality outward through their respective methods."

After listening, Zheng Fan asked, "You mean, if I want to advance quickly, I have to learn some damn Sword Intent?"

Actually, Zheng Fan quite liked the image of a swordsman; most people dream of becoming one at some point. But perhaps it was due to being born in Yan State. Yan people prefer to use sabers, especially Yan cavalry sabers, which are devastating weapons on the battlefield. Thus, Chief Zheng gradually grew fond of using sabers.

Once you get used to something, even if you don't particularly love it, you become too lazy to change.

"No, it's because you have him!"

The little sword boy, sitting on Fanli's shoulder, pointed towards the blind man.

"He has an incredible ability: he can control objects."

For a moment, everyone present, except Fanli, understood.

Zheng Fan stroked his chin for a moment and then said, "You mean, let the blind man use his mental force to help me guide my vitality to project outward, and then advance to a higher rank through this shortcut?"

"'Mental force'? Is that what you call that invisible power?" the little sword boy asked.

The blind man, meanwhile, faced Zheng Fan and said, "My lord, it's not advisable."

Zheng Fan nodded. "Hmm."

Everything has to be gradual. Using mental force to forcibly stimulate internal vitality to project outward might achieve progression, but this 'forced ripening' often brings terrifying side effects. In other words, how is this different from Prince Fu, who used drugs to advance? It might even stop Zheng Fan from advancing beyond the Seventh Rank, and all the Demon Kings would be stuck at this level for the rest of their lives. Anyone with true foresight wouldn't resort to such a destructive, short-sighted method.

"Why not? Surely you're not still dreaming of becoming a true powerhouse?"

In the little sword boy's eyes, this man named Zheng Fan was highly utilitarian. People with such a strong focus on practical benefits often don't go far in cultivation. A person only has so much time and energy in their life. When one wants to focus on one thing, they naturally have to neglect others.

"I don't like the sound of that," Zheng Fan remarked.

Fanli nodded and raised his finger.

FLICK!

He flicked the little sword boy on the head.

"Ouch, that hurts!"

Zheng Fan ignored the little sword boy and turned to the blind man, saying, "Li Fusheng told me that to break through, I need to nurture my killing intent."

Upon hearing this, the blind man said, "Does that mean you've been killing fewer people lately, My lord?"

"Probably, yeah."

Actually, there was something no one had mentioned: Zheng Fan had been killing less because, on the battlefield, the Demon Kings were always by his side, protecting him. Yet, they couldn't *not* protect him, because if Zheng Fan died, they would all perish instantly.

"Once we get to Jin State, we'll see. Even if the Jin people don't rebel, aren't there still the wild people?"

There are many wild people settlements in the Skybreak Mountains of Jin State.

"Alright then. You continue sunbathing; I'm going back to rest."

"Yes, My lord."

Zheng Fan stood up from his reclining chair, walked into the fort, and Siniang followed.

Just as he was about to reach his room, Zheng Fan noticed A Ming and Liang Cheng sitting together, each holding a teacup, with a container of ice cubes nearby.

"My lord."

"My lord."

"Yo, enjoying a drink, are we?" Zheng Fan greeted.

A Ming gave a faint smile and said, "Care to join us, My lord?"

"No, thanks. I'm not that into blood sausage."

After watching Zheng Fan enter his room, Liang Cheng and A Ming silently raised their cups, lightly clinked them together, and then downed the contents in one gulp.

A Ming put down his cup and shook his head. "Eating with someone else can make it livelier, and the food tastes better. But drinking *this* with just one other person feels strange."

Liang Cheng nodded, indicating he felt the same.

"Does this mean we can't share good fortune?"

Previously, during campaigns, the two shared a tent and would drink together in the evenings; that was fine. Now that the war was over and they were back, each with their own room, forcing themselves to get together to drink *this* felt awkward; the atmosphere was gone. After all, neither zombies nor vampires are inclined to be social. They much prefer solitude.

"We can't let them hear this." Otherwise, they'd use it as fodder for jokes.

"Boring people will always be boring."

A Ming stood up, picked up the ice and the wine jug, and leisurely strolled back to his room. However, he paused at his doorway.

He instinctively felt something was off about his door, but he couldn't pinpoint what.

After a moment of hesitation, not wanting to overthink it, A Ming pushed open his door.

Two sets of armor were hung just inside the door. Then, with a TWANG, a crossbow bolt pierced the armor and, an instant later, skewered A Ming's chest.

"Well now, its armor penetration is quite good," came Xue Three's voice from inside the room.

A Ming bit his lip, glanced at the wine jug in his hand, took a sip, then looked down at the liquid dripping from the wound in his chest.

Pushing aside the obstructing armor, A Ming saw Xue Three in the room, fiddling with a crossbow. The crossbow was primarily wooden, but crucial components seemed to be made of a special, somewhat crystalline material.

"A Ming, come take a look at this new gadget I've rigged up. It's an improved crossbow bolt design, using crystals sourced from Western merchant caravans. They're a bit expensive, but the penetration power is undeniable. Mass production is out of the question, but equipping a special operations team with them would definitely yield excellent results.

"Imagine, if a twenty-man assassination squad got close to a target and unleashed a volley, even a martial arts grandmaster would be riddled with holes, right?"

"So, you were hiding in my room, deliberately waiting to shoot me?"

"Of course! This thing had to be tested on someone alive. Your reaction speed is excellent, making you the perfect test subject. It pierced two layers of fine armor, and you still couldn't dodge it. HEH HEH. However, when we use these in the future, we'll need to coat the bolts with some scent and train a few hounds to retrieve them. These things are too expensive."

"Why didn't you inform me beforehand?"

"Nonsense. If I had told you, would you have agreed? You're only willing to be shot by My lord; would you be willing to be shot by me?"

"So, you just decided not to ask?"

"Exactly. Besides, a shot like this won't kill you. I'll deduct it from my allowance next month and get you a new set of clothes as compensation. HEH HEH."

"Heh." A Ming also smiled, then his fangs emerged, and his aura began to grow increasingly grim. "Little fellow, you're getting quite mischievous these days."

However, just as A Ming was stepping towards Xue Three, he abruptly stopped.

Because Xue Three had silently reloaded the crossbow. The bolt now nocked had an arrowhead that gleamed with a silver light—it was a silver arrowhead.

"..." A Ming.

Xue Three, holding the crossbow, yawned and contentedly rocked his body, the three oars beneath him stirring ripples.

"Who isn't a little darling, eh?"