paranoianovel Chapter 119 The Prison Suppression Technique
Chapter 119 The Prison Suppression Technique
Chapter 119 The Prison Suppression Technique
dark.
There are no rift valleys, no giant scales, and no cold winds.
Xu Hao's consciousness was suspended in a void.
There was no foothold, no sky above, and only one sound in my ears.
An extremely ancient, metallic-textured tremor.
The scroll depicting the blessed land in my mind's eye has disappeared.
Instead, a dark gold plaque has been integrated into the painting – the Martial Ancestor's fragmentary scroll, "The Prison-Suppressing Myriad Bones Technique".
The nameplate hangs in the center of the void, with the ancient seal characters on the front lighting up one after another.
It's not about making him read; it's about directly cramming information into his brain.
The visuals came first.
A bottomless fissure.
It's not this rift valley on the snowy plains of Yanzhou, but an abyss ten thousand times larger.
The walls of the abyss are covered with inscriptions, and every word is glowing.
Six dragons dwell at the bottom of the abyss.
Six.
Not one.
"The Nine Nether Abyss." A voice with a metallic quality echoed in his mind, devoid of emotion, as if reading a military report.
"Before the Vast Heaven World was shattered, the plane connected to Yanzhou was called the Nine Netherworld."
This is the core of the Nine Netherworld—the Nine Nether Abyss, where six naturally born ferocious dragons are imprisoned.
Screen switch.
A figure stands on the edge of the abyss.
His face was obscured, only a pair of fists were visible.
The calluses on his fists were as thick as iron armor, and his knuckles were large and deformed—these were hands that had been used for boxing all his life.
Martial Ancestor.
He jumped.
The image shattered into countless fragments, flashing rapidly through Xu Hao's consciousness.
He shattered the spine of the first dragon with a single punch.
He stomped on the second dragon's jaw and broke it off.
The third one was grabbed by the tail and flung against the abyss wall, creating a huge crater thousands of feet deep.
The fourth and fifth dragons pounced at him together, but he attacked from both sides, his fists piercing through both dragon heads.
The five ferocious dragons perished.
The bottom of the abyss was piled high with dragon corpses, and golden blood soaked into the ankles of the Martial Ancestor.
Then he stopped in front of the sixth one.
Chongyuan.
The camera focused on Chongyuan.
Unlike the other five, Chongyuan did not make a move.
It curled up in the deepest part of the abyss, its scales covered with dense runes.
It wasn't carved by Emperor Wuzu.
It's innate.
Runes grew from the depths of the scales, covering every scale, every inch of flesh, and even the depths of the vertical pupils were engraved with inscriptions.
"Born of Heaven and Earth, it lives as long as the world." The golden voice continued to pour in. "As long as the Vast Heaven World remains unbroken, it will never perish."
7
The Martial Ancestor's fist landed on Chong Yuan's head.
Dragon scales shattered, and dragon blood splattered.
Chongyuan's head was smashed thirty feet into the ground.
Then the shattered scales began to regenerate.
The dragon's blood flowed back into his body.
Three breaths later, Chongyuan's wounds disappeared completely.
Martial Ancestor threw another punch.
The same result.
One hundred punches.
One thousand punches.
Ten thousand punches.
The scene was compressed into a few breaths.
Xu Hao watched as Wu Zu stood before Chong Yuan, the calluses on his fists worn away layer by layer and then growing back.
Can't be beaten to death.
They're really indestructible.
The scene changes again.
The Martial Ancestor stood at the edge of the Nine Nether Abyss, looking up at the sky.
He made a decision.
Fist raised above head.
This time it wasn't a downward smash.
It means to push upwards.
The sky cracked.
It's not a metaphor.
The sky above the vast world was cracked like a spiderweb by a single punch, and the cracks spread across the entire sky.
The Martial Ancestor did not ascend to heaven.
He is in a shattered world.
The truth behind the words "shattered void" exploded in Xu Hao's mind.
It is not a means of ascension after reaching the pinnacle of martial arts.
He is someone who can't kill his opponent, but instead smashes the foundation beneath his opponent's feet.
The vast world of Haotian shattered into several smaller worlds.
The foundation of the immortal dragon shattered as a result.
It has been downgraded from "living as long as the world" to "living as long as fragments".
Tianqing Haotu is just a fragment of the vast world of Haotian.
A single fragment cannot contain the complete, immortal body.
That's why the Martial Ancestor had time to forge the six nails to suppress it.
It wasn't killed by being suppressed.
It's about holding them back.
Drag them onto this fragment and let strong enough successors grow.
The sound of metal and stone rang out for the last time.
There were no parting words, no heartfelt expectations.
Just one sentence.
"This skill, 'The Secret of Suppressing Ten Thousand Bones,' was established by traversing the deepest abyss of the Nine Netherworlds and suppressing the ferocious dragons of the Ten Thousand Prisons. It cultivates the foundation of the physical body, drawing upon the dragon energy of the earth's veins and the power of the thick soil of the Nine Netherworlds to temper the body. It's an incomplete piece. Enough for my needs."
Information about the practice methods flooded in like a tidal wave.
It's not a technique, not a formula; it's an instinct.
How to breathe when your feet touch the ground, at what frequency your bones should vibrate, and how your muscle fibers should be arranged—all of these are etched into your body's memory.
The inherent pressure of the cultivation technique briefly appeared in my mind.
The positions of the six Dragon-Suppressing Nails lit up simultaneously.
The newly added Soul Nail he used stabilized by three points under the pressure.
The seal has become a little stronger.
Consciousness began to fade.
The final image freezes on the back of the Martial Ancestor raising his fist to shatter the sky.
The silhouette is blurred, but the fist is clear.
reality.
Bottom of the rift valley.
Xu Hao's consciousness seemed to be pulled out of the water and suddenly returned to his body.
The first sensation was pain.
It's not the pain of broken bones, but the aching and swelling that comes from every muscle and bone in your body regenerating.
The grayish-black turbid liquid on the surface of his skin had dried and cracked, forming a hard shell, which was shaken off by the rise and fall of his chest when he breathed.
Right arm.
He tried moving his fingers.
All five fingers can be bent.
The forearm below the bandage no longer bulged.
The broken bones have returned to their original positions. They haven't completely healed yet, but at least they won't pierce through the skin anymore.
The changes inside the body are even greater.
The density of the bones has changed.
He could feel his bones getting heavier, each one feeling like it was filled with lead.
It's not a burden, it's an increase in hardness.
He tapped his forearm; the sound was not like flesh, but like hitting a stone.
The internal energy of the Tongqiao Realm is still empty.
But where the soles of your feet touched the giant scales, a warm energy was slowly seeping in.
It's not qi, but something much thicker and heavier.
Like the pulse of the earth itself, it travels up the soles of the feet and into the bone marrow.
Earth vein dragon energy.
Although the Chongyuan Dragon Lord was suppressed again and entered a deep sleep, its body itself is a walking mineral vein.
Lying on it for a night is like soaking in the most premium dragon energy medicinal bath.
He lay on the back of an ancient, ferocious dragon and practiced body-refining techniques all night.
This kind of treatment is unparalleled in the entire Tianqing Haotu.
Xu Hao propped himself up with his left hand and sat up.
My bones cracked and popped all over my body, not from injury, but from new joints adapting to changes in density.
There was a noise overhead.
Direction of Taniguchi.
It wasn't the sound of the wind, it was the sound of people.
A lot of people.
The sounds of armor clashing, ropes rubbing together, and a gruff voice shouting at the top of its lungs.
"Keep the rope secure! If anyone falls and dies, I'll throw him down with them!"
Xu Hao looked up.
The crimson firelight at the valley entrance reflected on the rock face, and two armored men were sliding down a thick rope.
He didn't wait for anyone to reach the bottom.
Although his internal energy was depleted, the changes brought to his physical body after initially mastering the "Prison Suppression Technique" were real: his hands gripped the rock wall, and his ten fingers embedded themselves into the stone like iron hooks.
Using the valley walls as footholds, they climbed upwards step by step.
The speed wasn't fast, but every step was as steady as if it were nailed to a wall.
Halfway up, the two soldiers descending saw him and were stunned for three breaths.
"A person—a person is alive?"
"Enough talk, make way."
Xu Hao climbed between the two men and continued upwards.
Taniguchi.
The torches were brightly lit.
More than thirty soldiers clad in heavy black iron armor were positioned along the edge of the rift valley, their movements professional and their coordination seamless.
They were neither ordinary soldiers of the Northern Garrison nor any scattered troops.
A short man stood closest to the valley entrance, arms crossed.
He wasn't exactly short, but surrounded by strong men over 1.8 meters tall, he appeared exceptionally muscular and compact.
He was around forty years old, with a square face, thick eyebrows like two brushes, and an old scar running from left to right across his chin.
The armor on his body was different from that of his subordinates.
Dark gold patterns are inlaid on the black iron base, and a single character is cast on the shoulder armor – “吟” (Yin).
He saw Xu Hao climb up from the valley entrance, glanced at him covered in grayish-black liquid and crusted bloodstains, and showed no surprise.
"You're the one who delivered the message to Zhao Poyue?"
"Who are you?"
"Commander of the Dragon Roar Guard, Wu Qingshan." The short man stated in a flat tone, "By order of the Prince of Zhenbei, you are to lead eight hundred Dragon Roar Guards on a forced march north to investigate the unusual activity in Yanzhou."
When we arrived at Desperate City, a great beam of light appeared in the direction of Rift Valley, so I led the vanguard battalion over first.
97
Late stage of the Tongqiao Realm.
Xu Hao sensed it the moment he opened his mouth.
His Qi and blood were contained to the extreme, and he stood there like a knife in its sheath, its sharpness hidden from view.
But the weight of the scabbard says it all.
"The pillar of light is gone." Wu Qingshan pointed to the rift valley. "What's going on down there?"
"The dragon has gone back to sleep. The seal has been repaired and it should last for another thirty-seven years."
Wu Qingshan's thick eyebrows twitched. This was the first change in his expression since he arrived.
"Dragon." He repeated the word.
"Peak of the Shattered Realm, an ancient ferocious beast, personally suppressed by the Martial Ancestor." Xu Hao squatted at the edge of the valley, fished the Xuan Turtle out of a crevice in the rocks in a sheltered spot, and put it back in his pocket. "The details are too long, I'll show you pictures later. First, let me tell you something—Bone Mother removed two Dragon-Suppressing Nails, I removed one, and then replaced it. There are three nails left."
Wu Qingshan remained silent for five breaths.
Then he did something Xu Hao hadn't expected.
This elite commander of the Northern Army, who was at the late stage of the Tongqiao Realm, turned around and said something to the messenger behind him.
"Order that the entire Dragon Roar Guard be converted to wartime formation. Notify all Zhenbei Army spies in Desperate City to immediately seal off all access routes to and from Yanzhou."
The messenger received the order and rushed off.
Wu Qingshan turned his head back.
"What was this nail you used to patch it up made of?"
"The lives of 103 veterans of the Zhenbei Army."
Wu Qingshan's gaze lingered for a moment.
I didn't ask any further questions.
He glanced down into the darkness deep within the rift valley.
Its breathing was even and long, five breaths at a time. The dragon was asleep.