Chapter Thirty-Six: Whirlpool Strangulation

After leaving the arena, Yin Seventeen made his way to the familiar shallows where he usually trained.

In the coming month, he intended to spend his days here, delving into the imprints of previous generations of Saints found within the Crater Cloth.

Now that his cosmos was ignited, he had become something other than an ordinary human. Though he still appeared human, he no longer needed food to sustain himself. As long as his cosmos burned, he could draw power from it to maintain his vital signs.

In a sense, he had achieved the ability to forgo sustenance. Yet, his fundamental nature remained human: he would still age and die like any mortal, immortality forever out of reach.

It was, undeniably, a regrettable truth.

Once he quieted the exhilaration of having obtained the Cloth, he sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and sent his sixth sense—root consciousness—into the imprints recorded within the Cloth.

Instantly, the battle experiences and training of the previous Crater Saints unfolded before his mind’s eye.

In that moment, he felt as though he had become those predecessors, able to sense, with absolute clarity, the power, speed, and subtle changes in every punch they threw...

All of their cultivation and combat experience etched themselves into his heart.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed before Yin Seventeen suddenly opened his eyes and walked slowly toward the sea.

Soon, the water lapped over his feet, then his calves, knees, and thighs...

The tide rose higher, yet he showed no sign of stopping, pressing forward with steady, unhurried steps.

At last, the water covered his head, and he vanished entirely beneath the waves.

Even so, he did not halt, but continued into the depths.

With the protection of his cosmos, there was no risk of drowning, at least not for a long while.

He kept walking, constantly experimenting with the knowledge and techniques gleaned from the imprints in the Cloth, adapting the power of his cosmos.

He had no idea how long this process took before he finally found the knack.

With one step, he no longer set foot upon the seabed, but hovered suspended within the water, as if an invisible stairway had materialized beneath him.

"At last, I've succeeded!" Stifling his delight, Yin Seventeen took a second step.

Just like the first, his foot did not touch the ocean floor but floated in the water.

Step by step, he ascended as though climbing a hidden staircase back toward the surface—steady, composed, just as he had been when he descended.

Soon, a silver helmet broke the surface, followed by Yin Seventeen’s head, neck, shoulders, waist...

Step by step, he emerged from the depths.

He had mastered the rudiments of water manipulation!

From now on, he could move freely upon the water’s surface without sinking.

Water was, after all, one of the powers aligned with the Crater constellation.

Thus, every generation of Crater Saints had wielded techniques related to water.

Since their cosmos was similar to his, Yin Seventeen could wield them as well.

But before he could learn those combat techniques, he first had to master the basics of controlling water.

Hence his earlier descent and emergence from the sea.

Because he could directly comprehend the imprints upon the Cloth, reliving the training of each of his predecessors, he managed to grasp the basics of water manipulation in such a short time.

Otherwise, merely reaching this level would have taken an untold length of time.

"I have mastered the power of water. Next comes the combat techniques!"

He tightened his right fist, gathering cosmos energy into it.

This time, however, his cosmos was different from usual—he mimicked the shifting qualities of water.

In an instant, faint streams of water coiled around his right fist.

"Maelstrom Strangling Fist."

Channeling his power to its peak, he struck the ocean surface with a mighty blow.

Boom!

With a punch that traveled at a hundred thousand times the speed of sound, the surface of the sea was split open by a massive whirlpool.

This was a technique he had learned from his predecessors.

A single punch would conjure an intense vortex, trapping and shredding an opponent within its spinning current.

Of course, there were many other combat arts imprinted in the Cloth.

But Yin Seventeen already possessed the "Sacred Sword," and did not wish to waste time learning too many techniques.

To kill an enemy, a single strike was enough.

To spread oneself thin and unfocused was a grave error.

Especially since he would soon be dispatched on a mission the following month, leaving little time for mastering multiple arts—so he chose to perfect only the "Maelstrom Strangling Fist."

Besides, his body had been transformed by the old priest’s sword aura; the "Sacred Sword" was the technique best suited for his cultivation.

He was not foolish enough to lose the greater for the lesser.

The "Maelstrom Strangling Fist" was simply a means to diversify his attacks.

So, for the next month, Yin Seventeen remained by the sea, attuning himself to the Crater Cloth, practicing the "Maelstrom Strangling Fist," and continuing his sculpture exercises—until a crow appeared.

Whoosh!

Without a change in expression, Yin Seventeen flicked a small chip of stone from his sculpture, sending it hurtling toward the prying crow.

"Caw—"

The crow shrieked as it was knocked to the ground, black feathers scattering everywhere.

"I have no patience for sneaky creatures like you, Gamian!" Destroying the sculpture, Yin Seventeen gazed coldly at the bedraggled crow.

The bird radiated a subtle cosmos energy—well hidden, but not from him.

Clearly, this was no ordinary bird, but a familiar controlled by someone.

Through the crow, its master could spy from afar, even use it to carry out simple tasks.

And throughout the entire Sanctuary, only one person used crows as familiars—Crow Constellation, Gamian.

"Heh heh, no need to get so worked up, brother!" The crow struggled upright and spoke in a human voice.

It was Gamian, speaking through the crow.

Yin Seventeen had no interest in exchanging words at a distance, and frowned. "You’re here to tell me it’s time to march out?"

"Yes, I’m already waiting at the Sanctuary’s gate! Get over here quickly, don’t keep His Holiness waiting!" The crow’s beak moved, spilling Gamian’s sinister voice.

"And Lepus Rolan?" Yin Seventeen pressed.

He hadn’t forgotten his fellow Bronze Saint.

"I’ve already notified her—she’s on her way to the gate! Just hurry up!"

With those words, the crow flapped its wings and took off.

But it was clear the bird was in poor shape, its flight unsteady, as if it might fall from the sky at any moment.

One couldn’t help but wonder if some hungry fellow might shoot it down and roast it for dinner.

Yin Seventeen rose, brushing stone dust from his clothes, and strode toward the Sanctuary’s gate.

Although called a "gate," it was really just a broad road leading to the outside world.

The supplies the training camp consumed daily were delivered via that road.

Over time, people simply called it the gate.

But in truth, for a Saint, with their mobility, any direction could be an exit.