C3 Bone Breaking and Rebirth

"Look at Wang Meng go—a punch that whips up the wind! His Yellow Rank Level Nine strength is no joke. How long do you think that loser Lin Yu can hold up against him?"

"Last a few rounds? You must be joking! Open your eyes wide and see for yourself. That loser's strength is worlds apart from Brother Meng's. He probably can't even withstand one hit. You're giving him way too much credit." The monkey-faced man, one of Wang Meng's lackeys, sneered disdainfully. His voice quickly garnered nods of agreement from the crowd. The atmosphere was lopsided with jeers and taunts echoing nonstop.

On the Martial Training Field.

An iron fist hurtled through the air, bringing a tearing wind with it. Lin Yu's cheeks stung as he scrambled backward. But Wang Meng, tall and fast, wasn't far behind. His earthy-yellow spiritual energy surged, and he delivered a punishing blow to Lin Yu's chest. Lin Yu grunted, a powerful force spreading through his body in an instant.

Crack.

The crisp sound signaled broken bones. Pain enveloped Lin Yu as he was sent flying backward, rolling several times before finally coming to a stop in the dust, his green shirt soaked with blood.

"Hmph, what a waste of space!" Lin Meng said coldly, looking down at Lin Yu sprawled on the ground.

"Told you that loser couldn't take even one punch from Brother Meng! The nerve of him to challenge Brother Meng, not knowing his place!" The monkey-faced man in the stands chimed in at just the right moment, drawing a chorus of tsk-tsks, with not a single voice rising in Lin Yu's defense.

As Lin Meng turned to walk away, a serene voice called out from behind, "What's the matter? Skip breakfast? Is that all the strength you've got?"

Lin Meng paused, turning to see Lin Yu struggling to rise from the ground. His black hair was disheveled, his green shirt stained with blood, presenting a pitiful sight. Yet, the smirk on his face was unmistakably mocking.

"Are you asking for death? I only used 30% of my strength just now..." Lin Meng said icily.

"Only thirty percent? No wonder you seem like you haven't had a meal... Come on then, give it your all... Don't disappoint me..." Lin Yu straightened up slowly, beckoning Wang Meng with a flick of his fingers to come and do his worst.

"You've successfully ignited my wrath..." Wang Meng declared, his face darkening with anger.

"Why waste words? Just come at me with everything you've got!" Lin Yu taunted, his smile unwavering.

Wang Meng huffed. Indeed, there was no point in engaging in a war of words with a piece of trash in front of an audience. The most effective method was to simply take him down. With that in mind, Wang Meng channeled his spiritual energy to its fullest, summoning a dusky yellow shield around him as a dense aura enveloped the space.

Lin Yu was laser-focused, feeling almost breathless as he watched Wang Meng's fist glow with an earthy yellow light, exuding an aura of immovability.

"Stone-Breaking Iron Fist... Tsk, tsk. Isn't Wang Meng overdoing it a bit? Using a martial skill against mere trash? Heh..."

"Meng is an Earth Attribute practitioner. It's been three months since I last saw the Stone-Breaking Iron Fist. Hmm, he seems much more powerful than before. Could he be trying to kill Lin Yu outright? It seems likely..."

The Fist Wind swept across the arena in an instant, and the crowd, initially shocked, soon buzzed with excitement. Lin Yu's fate was of no consequence to them; they were more eager to witness him being pummeled to death – now that would be a spectacle.

"Die!"

Wang Meng's bellow filled the air as he charged forward. Lin Yu knew that Wang Meng harbored lethal intent. The onslaught was too swift; escape was not an option. Not that Lin Yu had any intention of fleeing – everything was unfolding just as he had anticipated.

Previously, Lin Yu had been too weak; his body's conditioning was incomplete. Now, it was impossible for him to undergo the tempering process on his own. He needed an external force. When Wang Meng provoked him at the restaurant, Lin Yu saw an opportunity to use Wang Meng's desire for attention against him. He goaded Wang Meng into using his full strength, not out of masochism, but by choice.

Yes, Lin Yu intended to use Wang Meng's power for his own transformation – to temper his bones and be reborn.

Lin Yu understood the stakes: win and the severed path would be mended; lose and it would cost him his life.

Gusts of wind surged as Lin Yu summoned the spiritual energy within him, yet in the face of Wang Meng, it was no more than a firefly's glow. He was hurled away again, his body flailing like a kite with its string cut. Amid the battering Fist Wind, his bones snapped and crumbled. Under the relentless pressure, his flesh split open in countless places, soon soaking him in his own blood.

The agony was relentless, a torment so brutal it was nearly insufferable. Yet Lin Yu clenched his teeth, refusing to utter a sound, silently channeling his spiritual energy to keep his shattered bones from misaligning.

For Lin Yu, a moment felt longer than a century. When Wang Meng's Fist Wind finally cleared, Lin Yu's bloodied form collapsed to the ground, more breath leaving him than entering. His time seemed short.

"Humph, pathetic…" Wang Meng cast a final glance at the blood-soaked Lin Yu, leaving behind a dismissive remark as he strode away.

The anticipated outcome of the duel left the audience silent, save for jeers. "Useless trash. Knocked out in two punches. What a waste of time."

"Seriously... I traveled miles for this?"

"Is he actually dead? Someone go check."

"Why should I? His life or death is none of my concern."

The crowd dispersed, leaving only a few shadows in the stands. Shea Xiaoming rushed onto the Martial Training Field, attempting to lift Lin Yu, but with nearly every bone broken and no part of him unscathed, he hesitated, unsure where to begin.

"Mr. Yu, how are you? Are you okay?" the fatty asked, his voice laced with urgency.

At the sound of the fatty's voice, Lin Yu struggled to open his eyes. He tried to speak, but the severity of his wounds reduced his voice to mere groans.

"Brother Lin, why do this to yourself? I know you're worried about the assessment next month, but if you don't pass, just return to the capital. Isn't life more precious than anything else?" Shea Xiaoming sighed, seeing Lin Yu's actions as nothing short of self-destruction.

"Hey, do you need a hand getting up?" Shea Xiaoming offered once more.

"No... no need, just let me be..." Lin Yu managed to utter, despite the excruciating pain. His bones were shattered, and any careless move could be fatal.

"Okay... I'll stay with you then..." Shea Xiaoming said with a sigh.

Lin Yu intended to express his gratitude, but his contorted face made it impossible to speak. He closed his eyes and silently channeled the Seven-star Sword Spell. A faint spiritual energy gently flowed through his fractured bones, meticulously nurturing and realigning them. It was an incredibly intricate and lengthy process.

As the sun climbed high and then dipped below the horizon, the night sky soon brimmed with stars. Throughout the day, many had visited the Martial Training Field, scoffing at the sight of Shea Xiaoming keeping vigil over Lin Yu's motionless form, labeling him irredeemably worthless.

Shea Xiaoming grew increasingly concerned for Lin Yu. Time dragged on, and Lin Yu remained still. If not for the faint breaths, Shea Xiaoming might have believed him dead. Could Lin Yu truly heal from such grave injuries, especially given his modest martial arts talent? With his condition, passing the assessment in a month seemed impossible.

'Forget it, once Yu's better, I'll take him back to the capital. There's no point in staying here to be disgraced,' Fatty resolved internally.

Unaware of Fatty's thoughts, Lin Yu was numb from the agony, enduring torments beyond human limits. How he survived the day was unknown to all, himself included. But survive he did. The bones that Wang Meng had crushed, he painstakingly pieced back together, relying on his spiritual energy to keep them intact.

"The timing is perfect..." Lin Yu whispered weakly as he opened his eyes. The gentle starlight bathed him, lifting his spirits. The sky was ablaze with stars, but the brightest were the seven of the Big Dipper. Having mastered the Seven-star Sword Spell, Lin Yu saw them with unparalleled clarity.

Lin Yu had long pondered the connection between the Seven-star Sword Spell and the celestial septet. The link eluded him, but he felt an inexplicable kinship with those stars, like reuniting with an old friend after years apart. And under their glow, his mind grew serene, his recovery abilities, remarkably swift.

Lin Yu was no longer the fledgling Young Sword Saint of the past, yet that familiar sensation had returned—the seven stars, the clear and unobstructed feeling, and his remarkable ability to heal swiftly.

The Seven-star Sword Spell activated instinctively, drawing the stellar power into Lin Yu's body like a flowing stream. A soft glow enveloped him, and his expression was one of profound tranquility. The starlight that entered his body seamlessly integrated with his fractured bone.

The shattered bone knitted together under the guidance of the stellar force, leaving not a single trace of a crack. Previously, the bone had a dark yellow hue, a sign of impurities left from incomplete tempering, akin to a poison that severely limited Lin Yu's fighting prowess.

But now, a radical transformation had taken place. The bones, reformed and pure, shone with the translucence of unblemished jade, their faintly discernible sharpness reminiscent of a sword freshly drawn from its scabbard.

Lin Yu was certain this was no mere illusion; it was a tangible reality. He had noticed it when he first began his practice of the Seven-star Sword Spell. With the power of the stars fused within, his bones had grown more resilient. Lin Yu had aptly named this phenomenon the Seven-star Sword Bone!