"The twenty-third divine line needs to be dispersed. Then shift the thirty-eighth and forty-fourth lines to swap places with the fifty-seventh and sixty-third. That adjustment pushes those divine lines upward!"
Under Ye Wei's precise direction, Ye Zhong began inscribing the divine lines into the air. Having cultivated the White Tiger Killing technique for so long, Ye Zhong was intimately familiar with its structure—and with Ye Wei beside him, the process was even smoother. The two had grown up together; their instincts were aligned. Ye Wei pointed, and Ye Zhong immediately understood. The synergy between them was seamless.
"Yes, that's right. Steady... Don't overextend!" Ye Wei's brows furrowed as he focused, sensing the subtle flow of vitality.
Each divine pattern was incredibly complex. The White Tiger Killing technique contained 136 lines—far more than the Three Tides Force. Perfecting it was many times more difficult.
Throughout the night, the two brothers worked tirelessly, attempting to perfect the divine technique. But with each failure, Ye Zhong's face grew paler.
The mental and physical toll was enormous.
Ye Zhong's cultivation level was only at the Four-Star Warrior stage. His dantian didn't have enough vitality to sustain this kind of exertion for long.
"Brother Zhong, rest a bit!" Ye Wei looked at his cousin—face ghostly pale, drenched in sweat, limbs trembling—and couldn't hide his concern. Perfecting a divine technique was no small feat. Even though Ye Wei wasn't the one actively channeling the power, he knew how draining it was.
"Alright... give me a moment." Ye Zhong nodded wearily and wiped the sweat from his brow. He wasn't going to push past his limit. Though he still had a bit of vitality left, his mind was almost completely spent. He was dizzy, and the chance of failure would only increase if he kept going. Resting now would double their chances later.
He sat cross-legged in the courtyard, silently activating the Ye clan's ancestral cultivation method—Falling Star Art. This intermediate-grade technique was one of the finest in Qingyue City, especially effective at restoring both vitality and mental strength.
Two hours passed.
As the eastern sky lightened, Ye Zhong opened his eyes, exhaled slowly, and stood up.
"Let's continue."
Though his face still showed traces of fatigue, his eyes were determined. He clenched his fists and walked toward Ye Wei.
"Brother, dawn's here. Maybe we should pause? Let's try again tonight?" Ye Wei hesitated, glancing up at the sky.
They had practiced divine arts through the entire night. Physical fatigue was manageable—but mental exhaustion took much longer to recover. A short rest wasn't enough. What Ye Zhong really needed was deep sleep.
With only three days left until Ye Zhong's duel with Du Hanyue, the clock was ticking—but there was still time. Ye Wei had already laid out the full adjustment plan for the technique. He didn't want his cousin to burn himself out.
"I'll be fine," Ye Zhong said with a faint smile. "We'll try three more times. If it still doesn't work, we'll pause until nightfall."
Ye Wei nodded reluctantly. "Alright. Three more tries."
Failure.
Failure.
Time and again, the 136 divine lines scattered into nothing. Ye Wei and Ye Zhong were used to it by now. But with each failure, Ye Wei gained a deeper understanding of the structure. Every mistake was a step closer.
One last try.
If this didn't work, they'd pause and resume at night. During the day, Ye Zhong still needed to train under their grandfather's supervision.
"Last try!" Ye Zhong took a deep breath, the morning air cool in his lungs. His fatigue lifted slightly, and his mind cleared.
It was early summer. The breeze was fresh, carrying the earthy scent of damp soil. After an all-nighter, both cousins felt a little more awake under the brightening sky.
"The twenty-third line gets scattered. Then the thirty-eighth and forty-fourth divine lines switch with the fifty-seventh and sixty-third!"
"Also, insert the one-hundred-and-third divine line just left of the twelfth pattern!"
Ye Wei stood in front of Ye Zhong, pointing to the radiant lines forming midair. After countless attempts, he had the structure memorized down to every detail.
Ye Zhong's fingers moved in perfect rhythm with Ye Wei's instructions. After a night of failure, the two now worked in absolute harmony.
Buzz!
As Ye Zhong completed the final divine line, all 136 lines ignited with brilliant silver light. Every strand shone clearly, and a massive white tiger materialized in the void—on its forehead, a single crimson horn glowed.
"The Crimson-Horned White Tiger!" Ye Zhong stared in disbelief. This was no ordinary image—it was a true mythical beast!
Roar!
Roar!
Roar!
The tiger let out three thunderous roars that shook the clouds above and rattled the ground below. The earth itself trembled beneath its fury.
The shockwaves struck Ye Wei's eardrums like a drumbeat. He staggered back several steps, blood surging in his veins. His face paled—but his eyes gleamed with joy.
They'd done it.
The White Tiger Killing divine art was finally perfected to the limit of Ye Wei's current realm!
Was this upgraded version now on par with a forbidden technique? Or had it ascended beyond that—to the golden tier of Profound-grade arts?
Just as the two cousins were reeling from their success, a column of blinding white light suddenly descended from the sky, enveloping Ye Zhong.
Bathed in divine radiance, Ye Zhong's pale complexion brightened, and every pore opened. The immense force of heaven poured into his body, purifying and empowering him.
The energy was overwhelming.
Far stronger than the heavenly blessing Lin Ziyan received when perfecting the Three Tides Force!
That made sense—Lin Ziyan had only upgraded a low-tier spirit-level technique to a high-tier spirit-level one. But Ye Zhong had perfected a high-tier divine art, elevating it to Profound-grade.
The heavenly reward was exponentially greater.
Ye Zhong's body couldn't fully absorb the flood of power. He drew in as much as he could, like a whale drinking from the sea—but excess energy still overflowed into the air.
At that moment, a sliver of that power brushed against Ye Wei.
Instinctively, Ye Wei absorbed it—and instantly, he felt as if he were soaking in a hot spring. Every pore in his body opened, vitality surged through him.
Though he was still just a Two-Star Apprentice, even this tiny trace of heavenly power was incredibly nourishing. In the depths of his Sea of Consciousness, the golden glow within his Red Sea intensified significantly.
He was one step closer.
And this was only the beginning.