Volume One: Qin Yang of the Northern Sea Chapter 0003: Slaying the Immortal

In the evening, a gentle breeze drifted through, bringing a trace of cool comfort to the sweltering summer.
Within the spacious house, Old Master Ye’s hearty laughter echoed, his joy unmistakable. After all these years of sparring with his old rival Bai Li Song, their contests had always ended in stalemates. But today, with Qin Yang’s help, he finally gained the upper hand.
He was so delighted that he couldn’t even sleep.
“Old Master Ye, it’s getting late. You should get some rest,” Qin Yang gently suggested.
“Don’t bother about me, boy! Haha, I’m simply too happy, far too happy!” Old Ye waved him off with a broad grin.
Qin Yang could only smile helplessly. The two elders had been drinking together since daylight, and by nightfall, Bai Li Song, having finally released the heavy burden in his heart, drank a little too much and was now thoroughly drunk.
Seeing Old Ye still wide awake, Qin Yang could only shake his head in resignation. He made some tea, then retired to his room.
He took a hot shower, washing away his fatigue, then sat cross-legged by the window, gazing at the scenery outside. In his mind, dormant memories began to stir restlessly.
Boom!
“I am the Immortal Slayer Emperor, born to slay immortals.”
“Hmph! Even if I cannot destroy you myself, my successor will fulfill my last wish and tear away your hypocritical mask, annihilating you utterly.”
...
These memories were vast, encompassing countless years of experience, all converging in his mind.
Deep within, he found the most precious technique—the Immortal Slayer’s Art. According to memory, this method could take him to the threshold of true immortality, a half-step True Immortal. To go beyond that would require exceptional fortune.
That so-called True Immortal of the Celestial Realm was, in truth, only at the half-step True Immortal stage, having employed certain rules to defeat the Immortal Slayer Emperor.
The Immortal Slayer’s Art had been discovered by his master in an ancient ruin, from which his legend began—slaying all foes in his path.
His inherited memories were divided into four pillars: Alchemy, Formations, Weapon Crafting, and Martial Arts.
He had been known as a prodigy, a peerless genius in every discipline.
Though the memories fused seamlessly into his mind, he still needed time to fully comprehend and master them.
First, he had to select a technique to cultivate; the Immortal Slayer’s Art was the obvious choice.
But physical strength was also vital—perhaps he should study a body-refining art as well.
Yes, that was essential.
He delved again into his memories, searching for a powerful method for forging the body that the Immortal Slayer Emperor once used to destroy otherworldly demons.
The Frenzied Demon Overlord Physique.
This art not only tempered the body in ordinary times, but during bursts of power, it could double one’s strength and attributes. Such was the terror of the Frenzied Demon Overlord Physique.
Unbeknownst to Qin Yang, cultivation methods of the otherworldly fiends were not meant for normal humans, whether in the mortal or celestial realms.
But ignorance spares the innocent. Immersed in his practice, he began his cultivation.
His frail body started to tremble, as if countless ants tore at his flesh, or as if he might explode at any moment.
Teeth clenched, a fierce light kindled in his eyes.
This inheritance was his chance to change his destiny—he could not give up, or he would remain mediocre as before.
Recalling past hardships and heartless abandonments, a murderous intent arose within him.
In that instant, the Frenzied Demon Overlord Physique activated. Happiness came so suddenly that he was overjoyed—he had not expected it to be so easy, while the Immortal Slayer’s Art remained elusive.
In truth, it was not the art’s simplicity but the trace of killing intent in his heart that had awakened it.
As dawn slowly broke and distant clouds turned their bellies to the sun, he finally absorbed a wisp of spiritual energy from heaven and earth into his body.
His face changed dramatically as the thunderous power within him surged forth, devouring the energy completely.
He froze in shock.
Could this be the remnant of that red lightning that had struck him?
He tried to guide it, and the thunderous force settled into his core, transforming into true thunder energy.
Clenching his fists, he realized he had skipped the initial enlightenment stage entirely and reached the first level of Awakening. He was ecstatic.
He knew his own efforts played a small part; the thunderous power had reforged his body, washing and tempering it, allowing him to leap over the initial stage.
Feeling the abundant power within, he was exhilarated.
A burning will to fight surged in his eyes—he longed to stand among the world’s greatest warriors and battle for supremacy. What a magnificent prospect that would be.
After ending his practice, he stepped outside and saw two people exercising in the courtyard. One was Old Master Ye; the other, a young man in a black tank top, looked sturdy and powerful. From the speed and force with which he struck the sandbag, it was clear he was no ordinary person.
In the military, such a man would surely be king among soldiers.

Fu Bin noticed someone approaching. His expression shifted minutely as he cast a cold, sharp glance at the pale young man before him.
He knew this youth—he and Old Ye had saved him together.
Suddenly, Fu Bin struck out with a swift kick.
Old Ye’s face changed at this, for he knew Qin Yang had no martial skills. That kick could cripple or even kill him.
But what happened next astounded them both.
Qin Yang didn’t even move; he simply sidestepped, dodging the fierce kick with ease.
Seeing their bewildered faces, Qin Yang scratched his head and said, “Brother Bin, even if you did save my life, this way of saying hello is a bit too special.”
Fu Bin was Old Ye’s personal bodyguard, charged with his safety. Qin Yang’s evasive maneuver was so odd that Fu Bin wanted to test him further, but Old Ye would not allow it.
“Fu, this is young Qin. He doesn’t know any martial arts, so no more testing. If he meant harm, he would have acted already.”
Fu Bin nodded respectfully. “Young Master Qin.”
“Brother Bin, you’re older than me—just call me Qin. I can’t live up to the title ‘Young Master.’”
Old Ye was practicing his boxing, a style much like Tai Chi—slow and deliberate.
Despite his age, his spirits were remarkably high, which made Qin Yang genuinely happy for him.
Ten minutes later, Old Ye finished, sweat streaming from his brow.
“Ah, I’m getting old. Years ago, this little exercise would have been nothing,” Old Ye sighed, taking a towel to wipe his face.
“Old Master, your meridians show signs of weakening and your vitality is declining. If you trust me, may I take a look?”
Ye Tian was not surprised; Bai Li Song had given the same diagnosis. But now that Qin Yang offered to help, he was delighted.
“Very well, young Qin. I didn’t expect you to have such skill.”
In his eyes, Qin Yang was transforming from an ordinary youth into someone more and more mysterious, his skin growing fairer and softer by the day.
“Please, sir, sit cross-legged,” Qin Yang said sincerely; he was truly grateful to this kindly old man.
Fu Bin watched Qin Yang intently, wary of any mishap.
With utmost care, Qin Yang guided the thunder energy into Old Ye’s body, clearing stagnant blood, strengthening his blood production, reigniting vitality.
Suddenly, Qin Yang’s expression changed drastically. Perhaps Old Ye’s body could not withstand the powerful thunder energy—he fainted on the spot.