Rebirth of Bi Gan: A Male Student Traverses the “Investiture of God”

On the eve of the decisive battle, Zhang Hao sat in his room with the yellowed ancient tome "Phantom Steps" laid out before him. He had been studying it for hours, beads of sweat dotting his forehead, yet he was completely oblivious. This was a combat technique he had found two days prior in the library, and he was acutely aware of the urgency — the battle loomed on the morrow, and he had to grasp the essence of this movement technique within this single day.

Two days prior.

Zhang Hao stood within Qingchuan Sect's library, his gaze sweeping across the rows of bookshelves. "All I've been cultivating is inner strength; I haven't mastered any appropriate combat techniques," he thought. He knew his cultivation level was slightly inferior to Zhao Gang's, but he understood that victory was not solely determined by the level of cultivation — combat techniques played a crucial role as well.

His fingers gently glided over the spines of the books, finally resting on a seemingly ordinary ancient volume. The cover bore the title "Phantom Steps," a combat technique of the Huang grade, middle-grade, which was a decent starting point for Zhang Hao. Moreover, the name clearly indicated it was a movement technique.

Zhang Hao knew that in both games and movies, the decisive factor in battles was often one's agility. Flipping to the first page, he read, "Phantom Steps, Common Intermediate combat technique, cultivators should proceed with caution, as improper mastery may lead to deviation…"

A thrill surged through Zhang Hao's heart. "Deviation? This combat technique is quite thrilling!" He smiled helplessly, thinking to himself that he wasn't at that level yet; he just wanted to enhance his combat strength.

He slowly turned the pages, meticulously contemplating every step and form change, attempting to turn these theories into instinctive bodily reactions. Zhang Hao's gaze fell on a page describing a crucial turning technique, his brow furrowing as if capturing something.

"This damn technique seems to have some depth, but it feels incomplete," Zhang Hao muttered to himself. He stood up and began practicing according to the book's description.

His body turned lightly, tracing an elegant arc in the room like a gust of wind. Yet, at the moment of turning, he halted, his brow furrowed.

"It seems something is missing; this technique doesn't seem complete," Zhang Hao thought. He flipped through the book again, trying to find the missing links.

However, as he carefully examined the book, he quickly realized that each movement seemed incomplete. Zhang Hao's heart skipped a beat, plunging him into deep contemplation. "This book seems to have been abridged; no wonder I always felt something was off." He reviewed it again, carefully comparing each step, feeling increasingly uneasy the more he read.

Nevertheless, he decided to attempt cultivation. Zhang Hao began practicing as described, his body moving lightly, flickering around the room like gusts of wind, leaving a series of afterimages.

Although initially awkward, with continuous practice, he could feel changes in his body, those steps subtly enhancing his speed and agility.

He could sense that these steps not only improved his speed and agility but also quietly altered his understanding of combat.

Zhang Hao's movements became increasingly fluid. His steps weaved through the room as if he were a series of phantoms, elusive and unpredictable. His body left faint afterimages in the air, each movement carrying a mysterious rhythm.

Unconsciously, midnight arrived.

Zhang Hao stood alone on the training ground. Moonlight bathed him, coating his figure with a silver halo. He took a deep breath and began practicing the "Phantom Steps" on the training ground. His steps danced in the moonlight, each movement imbued with elegance and strength.

Zhang Hao knew that tomorrow's battle would be tough. Zhao Gang's strength was not to be underestimated, but he was confident that through the cultivation of the "Phantom Steps," he could find a way to defeat his opponent.

His steps quickened, his figure darting across the training ground as if he were a series of lightning bolts. He could feel his body gradually adapting to these steps, his speed and agility significantly improving.

As the night deepened, Zhang Hao's cultivation reached its peak. His body left countless afterimages on the training ground, each seeming an independent entity, making it hard to discern truth from illusion.

Despite the limited time, having learned only half of the technique, Zhang Hao already felt its extraordinary potential. He believed that the outcome of tomorrow's battle would be determined by the "Phantom Steps" in his hands.

Hope ignited in Zhang Hao's heart, and he was determined to showcase his strongest self in the upcoming fight.