“Brother Hui, if you would please take a few steps back,” Yao Shen politely asked, and Zhou Hui had heard enough about the Grand Patriarch’s second disciple to wryly smile, before he complied with the request.
The door to the third floor creaked open to reveal an astonishing sight— two earthen constructs dominated the third floor in sheer volume alone, the nine feet tall juggernauts constructed in an exaggerated imitation of Dwarven physiology— thick, burly arms and legs, with a bulky torso, covered in layers of dense, overlapping golden fractals responsible for directing and controlling the actions of the construct.
The Dwarven Golems were late-stage core formation artifacts, a rare gift from the Dwarven Mountain Range that the sect had received a few centuries ago. Their primary function was to serve as sparring partners for core formation cultivators, also serving as a very effective method of displaying the effectiveness of Dwarven made artifacts and constructs, the latter an art that the three major sects of the Azlak Plains had lost.
The Golems moved with deceptive agility and grace for their presumed weight, but what was more surprising was the target they pursued— a bare chested man pivoting on his left foot as the rampaging golems drew near from opposing directions, his fiery red hair jouncing in the air as he came to a sudden halt. One of the Golems finally arrived within striking distance of the red-haired man, an earthen glow enveloping its clenched right fist as it drew it back.
Yao Shen watched calmly as the golem’s fist, which was originally a pleasing sandy brown shifted to a muted gray, its surface transmuting until its exterior resembled hardened rock. The Golem mercilessly brought down its fist upon the unarmed man, whose hulking, muscular frame countered with an uppercut of his own, in what appeared to be laughable defiance.
A loud bang rang out as the two fists collided, followed by a shockwave that Yao Shen could feel in his bones, even if the resulting impact could not move him in the slightest. The red-haired man remained standing upon the spot, his fist raised up in the sky, but the same could not be said for the Golem— its right arm was completely blown away from the impact as the originally hardened rock was reduced to rubble, half its torso eviscerated from the sheer force behind the man’s terrifying blow.
However he had little time to react when the second Golem arrived in his range mere moments after he had dealt with the first, its rocky fist landing upon his exposed back with another loud bang, the resultant shockwave even stronger than before. A giant fist imprint marred the red-haired man’s back, but he was not blown away by the impact as one might expect— instead he just went sliding forward for a dozen meters while remaining perfectly upright, before the momentum propelling him forward fizzled out.
His figure blurred as he pivoted upon his foot to face the Golem who had ambushed him from behind, stomping on the ground to send himself careening through the air in its direction. The red-haired man’s intense gaze fell upon the Golem before his fist smashed down upon its head, a passing blow from mid-air as he sailed past it.
The Golem’s head exploded, the upper half of its body reverting to an amalgamation of topsoil and sand— the impact of the blow marginally more devastating than his previous strike.
The red-haired man landed twenty or so meters away from the Golem’s remains, seemingly unbothered by the destruction of such a priceless gift. Of course, the Dwarven Golems would hardly be worthy of bearing the name of their creators if their destruction was such an easily accomplished feat.
The golden fractals that had originally been embedded into the golem’s surface started emanating a radiant light, a majority of them scattered all over the floor, while a few still remained within the construct’s body. They started floating around their respective golem’s remains, the golden light growing stronger as they linked together to form a circular formation around the golem’s remains. With each rotation the topsoil and sand amalgamation flowed back towards the golem’s remains, reforging it in real time. Each subsequent rotation only grew faster, and around a minute later both the Golem’s had reverted to peak condition.
They remained rooted to the spot, as if destroying them once was the stipulation to return them to a passive, or inert state.
The red-haired man’s gaze shifted to Yao Shen, and a wild grin tore at his face. The next instant his figure blurred, three consecutive leaps powered by a single leg’s muscles covering the distance between him and Yao Shen— his clenched fist releasing a blow that far surpassed his previous attacks in raw power.
A loud bang rang out, followed by a strong gust of wind in Zhou Hui’s direction as Yao Shen casually caught the blow in his right palm. The red-haired man grimaced as his blow connected, but remained silent as he bore the backlash of the impact.
“Master,” The red-haired man’s boisterous voice boomed out in greeting, the joy within the voice overshadowing any pain he felt.
“Duyi,” Yao Shen acknowledged, lightly smiling at his second disciple’s antics.
“To think that your physical body alone has reached such a state. Truly formidable, Master,” Duyi Xiong stated with a grunt, as he withdrew his fist from his master’s grasp and grimaced again. His knuckles were pinkish red from the impact, and his fingers were slightly swollen. Punching Yao Shen had caused damage to Duyi Xiong while his master remained unharmed, indicating that his master’s physical body alone was easily as tough as a defensive peak core-formation artifact, if not tougher.
Yao Shen just chuckled lightly, tousling his second disciples' spiky hair affectionately.
“Unfilial disciple, you hear of your master’s triumphant return and you dare not personally welcome him?” He asked in jest, already knowing what the answer would be.
“Hmph,” Duyi grunted, disapproval clearly written on his face. “I already told Shadow and little Xiaoli to cease their needless worrying, it is unbecoming of their stature as true disciples. Since the moment you chose to ascend, I already knew that you were guaranteed to succeed,” his voice rang out with absolute certainty, not even a trace of doubt or skepticism to be found within.
Yao Shen sighed, his tone turning slightly reprimanding as he replied, “I have told you many times, Duyi, there are no absolutes in the world of cultivation.”
“Yes, Master,” Duyi obediently replied, but Yao Shen could clearly make out the defiance in his eyes. His faith in Yao Shen, his Master, was absolute— and one could clearly understand why this was a weakness, a chink in the armor that had to be ironed out if one intended to survive for long in the ruthless world of Eliria. But at the same time, Yao Shen had already learned his lesson with Shadow, how it had severely impacted her when he forbade her from guarding him. Duyi’s case was similar from some angles, but largely different— he looked up to him, admired him, and had founded his whole cultivation style based on the myth of indomitability that had accompanied him on his meteoric rise.
To take that away from him was difficult indeed, especially when most cultivators had a central belief, idea, or concept that let them persevere under the circumstances Eliria often threw their way.
Yao Shen nodded, choosing to drop the issue for now. “Good. Did Shadow pass by you?”
Duyi’s eyes seemed to brighten up at the mention of Shadow, his mouth curling up into a light smile before he responded, “Yes, Master. I also saw our new Junior sister, but she was unconscious. Shadow said it was Qi Exhaustion, but her Qi reserves seemed to be filled to the brim.”
“Ah,” Yao Shen replied, the puzzles finally falling into place. If it wasn’t Qi Exhaustion then the girl was likely fine, the day’s events just too draining on her emotional capacity to bear shock— cultivator’s could not truly face any lasting consequences from it, like a heart attack, but fainting or falling into slumber was possible if the cultivator felt that they were in a secure environment.
“Master, may I request something?” Duyi asked boisterously, his request sounding like something he would do regardless of Yao Shen's response.
“Ask.”
“Our new junior sister seems quite frail. May I educate her upon the joys of body cultivation?” Duyi asked, with a passionate gleam shining in his eyes as he flexed his rippling muscles almost subconsciously.