Martial God Asura Chapters 51-55: Spirit Compass, Secret Techniques, and a Desert Confrontation

The air in the Ancient City was thick with anticipation and the dust kicked up by countless newcomers. Every inn was packed, every street crowded with cultivators from various schools and clans, all drawn by the whispered promise of a Profound realm expert's tomb. In the midst of this chaotic gathering, a splash of pink and a cheerful demeanor stood out. Su Mei, having pulled Chu Feng from their tavern, was a vision of fresh, refined beauty in her pink cheongsam, her hair flowing freely with a large bow perched atop her head. To Chu Feng, following behind her and enduring the jealous glances of other men, she was a delightful distraction.

“What’s this darling? After being separated for such a short while, you’re already thinking of me?” he couldn’t help but tease, a grin playing on his lips.

The sweet face instantly morphed into a fierce scowl. “Do you believe me if you call me darling again, I’ll tear your mouth apart?” Su Mei gritted her teeth, but the effect only made her seem more endearing to Chu Feng.

“Why don’t you allow me to call you darling? I am your lover!” he retorted, laughter in his voice.

Her response was swift and painful. Snow-white hands darted out, two fingers clamping onto his arm like a pair of steel pliers. A scream that truly resembled the wail of ghosts and howl of wolves tore from Chu Feng’s throat, echoing down the street. “Ah~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~”

After that painful negotiation of affection, they wandered the ancient roads, which had transformed into a sprawling, makeshift market. Seeing business in the waiting crowd, many had laid out strange treasures and trinkets. Su Mei, ever curious, dragged Chu Feng from stall to stall. She was particularly captivated by a display of colorful, uniquely crafted jewelry, kneeling to examine them with serious focus. Chu Feng, standing guard, cast a wary eye on the crafty-looking old woman running the stall.

Bored, his gaze drifted to a neighboring stall, or rather, a lack thereof. An old man lay sprawled on the ground, his appearance the very picture of destitution. His hair was matted, his face filthy, and his clothing a patchwork of rags. He paid no mind to the passing crowd. Before him was a pile of old, dusty, and utterly unremarkable books. Yet, as Chu Feng’s Spirit power subtly extended, a strange fluctuation emanated from one volume within the pile. His interest was piqued.

“Old man, how are you selling these books?” Chu Feng asked, approaching.

The old man didn’t bother looking up, merely raising a single finger. “One copper coin?” “Ha! Is a copper coin even enough for a meal for a beggar?” The old man shot up, indignant. Suppressing a curse, Chu Feng tried again. “So you want a tael of silver?” “One Spiritual Bead and you can take everything!” the old man declared clearly.

Chu Feng was flabbergasted. “Damn! Why not steal it instead? You charge that much for these broken books?”

The old man simply lay back down. “Take it or leave it.” He then muttered, almost to himself, “My books are passed down by my ancestor. Within some of them there must be some treasure, but it’s just that normal people can’t see the difference.”

Su Mei, having noticed the commotion, came over. “Ancestor? You are quite ridiculous. Who’s your ancestor?” “My ancestor came from quite a place. He’s a World Spiritist!” the old man said with sudden pride. “World Spiritist? What a boast!” Su Mei scoffed, unconvinced. “You can believe it or you can not. At the end, someone who knows what they are doing will buy this.”

The words struck a chord in Chu Feng. If there was even a sliver of truth to it, that strange fluctuation could be the remains of a World Spiritist’s knowledge. He made a decision. “Su Mei, do you have a Spiritual Bead? Lend me one!” “What are you doing? Are you really going to be tricked by this old man?” she protested, unwilling. “If you have one, please lend it to me!” Chu Feng insisted, hand outstretched. “You idiot. I never seen you being this stupid.” With a sigh of exasperation, she fished a Spiritual Bead from her waist purse and handed it over.

After the exchange, as Chu Feng gathered the dusty books into the old man’s cloth, the beggar suddenly spoke up again. “Hehe, little brother, you have quite the eye. As an admiration towards you, I’ll give you a present.” From his tattered bag, he produced a purple disk made of special wood. Compass points were marked on its sides, and the words ‘life’, ‘death’, ‘good luck’, and ‘bad luck’ were engraved around a strange central symbol.

Su Mei snatched it. “What’s this?” “Heh, little lady. This thing came from quite a place. It’s essential for World Spiritists. It can predict life and death, good luck and bad luck. It is called the World Spirit Compass!” the old man explained with an air of mystery. “Oh? How do you use this thing?” Su Mei pressed. “This…This is a thing for World Spiritists so how should I know? Hehe, you two study it on your own. Hope to meet you again!” With a sly grin, the old man pocketed the Spiritual Bead and scurried away with surprising speed. “Look! I knew he was a swindler!” Su Mei stamped her foot, but Chu Feng clutched the bundle of books and the strange compass, a feeling of anticipation growing in his chest.

Back in the privacy of their tavern room, Su Mei’s pretended anger melted away, replaced by a sweet, knowing smile. “Oi, did you find a treasure within this pile of rotten books?” Chu Feng realized her earlier opposition had been an act to keep the old man from raising his price. He grinned and together they rummaged through the pile. His Spirit power guided him unerringly to one specific book. Though shabby, it was intact and made of a unique, unadorned material. Wiping away the dust revealed its title: Secret Spirit Techniques.

Su Mei’s eyes widened with shock as she inspected it. “If this ‘Secret Spirit Techniques’ is real, then you’ve earned quite a profit. Although it can only be used by people with the Spirit power, the market price is absolutely no lower than 1000 Spiritual Beads.” She theorized the old man was likely illiterate, hiding such a priceless item beneath worthless texts.

A thousand Spiritual Beads! The number was astronomical to Chu Feng, enough to potentially propel him into the Origin realm. “Haha, after I finish using this, wouldn’t I earn a lot when I sell it out?” he exclaimed.

Su Mei clarified, “This secret book is just some controlling techniques for the Spirit power and not the cultivating methods for a World Spiritist. But if you can truly grasp the power of the Spirit Formation and become a World Spiritist, many schools will beg you to join them.” She then revealed a staggering fact about the Azure Dragon School’s resident World Spiritist: a monthly stipend of one Profound Bead, equivalent to one million Spiritual Beads.

Chu Feng was rendered speechless. The concept of such wealth was beyond his current imagination. Su Mei further explained the World Spiritist was only a guest elder, lured by the rumored treasures of the Thousand Bone Graveyard within the Spiritual Medicine Mountain. Chu Feng’s heart skipped a beat. That place. He remained silent, unable to reveal that the source of his own Spirit power was connected to that very forest of bones.

Seeing his eagerness to study the manual, Su Mei prepared to leave. But first, she took something else from her purse—a small sack embroidered with intricate symbols. “Here, this is your reward for going out for a walk with me!” Chu Feng inhaled sharply. “A Cosmos Sack?” It was a luxurious spatial treasure, something his own father couldn’t afford. Su Mei brushed off his awe, stating every Wings Alliance member had one and she couldn’t have him looking poor when the tomb opened. As she left, she glanced back. “If you don’t understand why, then you can take it as me trying to rope you in.”

Alone, warmth spread through Chu Feng’s heart. He immediately sat cross-legged and devoured the Secret Spirit Techniques. It was precisely what he needed: methods to control, extend, and refine his Spirit power. He learned to use it to observe in minute detail, see through concealed auras, and even disrupt an opponent’s awareness in battle. It was a foundational treasure that would exponentially increase his capabilities.

The Awakening of Power and a Mysterious Map

For the next several days, Chu Feng immersed himself in cultivation, barely pausing to eat or sleep. The Ancient City swelled past bursting, with camps spilling outside its walls. Conflicts flared daily, a grim preview of the bloodshed to come at the tomb. Through his window, Chu Feng practiced his new skills. Focusing on a passing elder from the Thousand Wind School, he channeled his Spirit power. A moment later, a smile touched his lips. “9th level of the Spirit realm. This Thousand Wind School elder is very ordinary.” His control was becoming proficient.

Next, he turned his attention to the World Spirit Compass. Among the other books from the old man were notes from a World Spiritist describing its use: a tool to find paths through danger, to seek out traces of life and opportunity. Chu Feng concentrated, sending a strand of invisible Spirit power snaking into the compass. Instantly, the engraved characters glowed and lifted from the wood, spinning in a rapid, mystical orbit around the disk. Elation surged through him. This was no trinket; it was a genuine treasure that could be the difference between life and death in the tomb’s treacherous confines.

Satisfied, he stored the compass in his new Cosmos Sack, marveling as the small sack easily absorbed the larger object. Lying on his bed, a sudden, thrilling thought occurred to him. The strange symbols branded onto his chest in the Thousand Bone Graveyard—could his Spirit power interact with them?

He focused, directing a stream of Spirit power into the mark on his chest. To his amazement, the symbols reacted. They glowed through his clothing, detaching and floating in the air before him, arranging themselves into a large, rotating diagram. The lines were complex, but the overall shape was unmistakable: a map. “Is it possible that there really are treasures in the Thousand Bone Graveyard? This would be the map to open it!” The potential was staggering. The symbols were not a curse, but a key. However, just as the map began to solidify into a coherent image, a sharp pain lanced through his brain. His Spirit power was depleted. He would need vastly more strength to fully decipher it.

The attempt left him exhilarated. On a whim, he tried to probe his own dantian with his Spirit power, curious about the Divine Lightning sleeping within. It was futile; an imperceptible barrier repelled his探查. Initially disappointing, the realization soon brought immense relief. If he couldn’t penetrate it, then no other World Spiritist could either. The secret of the Divine Lightning was safe.

His mood buoyant, he decided to take a walk. Not far from the tavern, the sound of curses and blows drew him to a narrow alley. Two burly men were viciously beating a beggar—the same thick-haired, ragged man from the market. Yet the beggar seemed utterly unconcerned, calmly eating a stolen bun amidst the assault. Chu Feng’s Spirit power swept over the beggar, returning a baffling result: an ordinary person with no cultivation. But no ordinary person could withstand such a beating.

“Stop!” Chu Feng commanded. The men, recognizing a cultivator, immediately ceased. Chu Feng paid for the bun and ordered ten more, dismissing the thugs. Alone with the beggar, Chu Feng studied him closely. The man’s eyes were vacant, drooling dully at the buns in Chu Feng’s hand. Then, Chu Feng noticed it: on the beggar’s forehead was a bizarre, flesh-grown scar shaped like a vivid, burning flame.

Driven by curiosity, Chu Feng reached out to touch the strange mark. “What are you doing?!” The reaction was instantaneous and terrifying. The beggar transformed. A roar erupted from him as a hand like a steel clamp seized Chu Feng’s wrist. An overwhelming, suffocating pressure flooded into Chu Feng’s body, a tidal wave of power that threatened to shatter his bones and explode his organs from within. Agony consumed him, yet he couldn’t even scream; the power had stolen his voice. He was utterly helpless, facing annihilation in a dusty alley.

A Frightened Expert and the Road to the Tomb

“It’s you!!!” The beggar’s roar shifted from anger to abject terror. He released Chu Feng as if burned, scrambling backwards until he was cowering in a corner, hugging his knees. He stole terrified glances at Chu Feng, his body trembling violently. “Don’t come over. I beg you, please forgive me. The things you wanted me to do I already did. Please forgive me. I don’t want to die yet!”

Before Chu Feng could process this, the beggar waved his sleeve. A strange, powerful wind swept through the alley, and when it settled, the beggar was gone without a trace.

Chu Feng stood panting, his wrist throbbing, his mind reeling. The insane beggar was a peerless expert, his cultivation level unfathomable. And he feared Chu Feng. He seemed to recognize him. For the first time, Chu Feng’s thoughts raced toward the enigma of his own origins. It was not a simple story of abandonment. Something significant, something potentially dark and powerful, was tied to his past.

“Oi, I’ve looked for you for quite a while. Why did you come to this place?” Su Mei’s voice, tinged with urgency, cut through his turmoil. She stood at the alley’s entrance. Chu Feng quickly composed himself. “What’s wrong?” “The position of the tomb was already announced. Right now, all sorts of powers are rushing over there. We need to quickly go as well or else we won’t even be able to get the leftovers!”

The journey began, moving from the crowded city into a vast, arid desert. The atmosphere was tense. Groups from the Azure Dragon School and Thousand Wind School clashed frequently, their long-standing rivalry boiling over. Chu Feng was grateful for Su Mei’s foresight in having them wear plain clothes, avoiding immediate targeting.

During their trek, they witnessed a skirmish: a single Azure Dragon core disciple in blue robes effortlessly defeating a dozen Thousand Wind inner court disciples. The Wings Alliance members felt a surge of pride, but Su Mei acted strangely, quickening her pace to avoid the scene. “Su Mei!” The core disciple had spotted her. She ignored him, walking faster, but he easily caught up, blocking her path with a slick smile. “It’s really you Su Mei, why didn’t you even look back when I called you?” “So it’s senior Zhou? What a coincidence meeting you here,” Su Mei replied with forced politeness. “Hey, no need to be so foreign. You can call me brother Zhiyuan.” His eyes roamed over her lecherously. The Wings Alliance members seethed but felt powerless; a core disciple was not someone they could openly challenge.

“Su Mei, you’re also here for the tomb? Follow me and I guarantee that no one will bully you.” As he spoke, Zhou Zhiyuan suddenly moved, his dirty hand shooting out to embrace Su Mei’s waist, taking advantage of her momentary surprise.

A Stand in the Desert

But the hand never found its target. Chu Feng was suddenly there, pulling Su Mei smoothly into the protective circle of his own arm, leaving Zhou Zhiyuan grasping at air. The core disciple’s face darkened instantly, his eyes shooting cold killing intent toward Chu Feng, who paid him no mind.

Chu Feng looked down at Su Mei in his arms and chuckled. “Darling, do you know him?” Understanding his play, Su Mei smiled sweetly. “Not too familiar.” “Ohh, in the future, don’t chat with people you are not familiar with. Girls need to pay attention.” He stroked her hair, the picture of a caring lover, deliberately ignoring the fuming Zhou Zhiyuan.

The core disciple’s face turned green with rage. “Boy, who are you?” he demanded, finger jabbing accusingly. Chu Feng met his gaze with arrogant calm. “And who are you?” “Who am I? I am a core disciple of the Azure Dragon School, Zhou Zhiyuan.” “Oh? You’re Zhou Zhiyuan?” “That’s me.” “Never heard of you.” “You…”

The surrounding Wings Alliance members were stunned. Chu Feng had publicly and blatantly humiliated a core disciple. “You’re looking to die!” Zhou Zhiyuan exploded, his palm slicing through the air toward Chu Feng’s face with wind-splitting force.

Su Mei tensed, spiritual energy gathering, but Chu Feng gently pushed her aside with a warm surge of power. He leaned his head, the slap whistling past his ear, and simultaneously stepped in, his fist a bolt aimed straight for Zhou Zhiyuan’s chest. Shocked by the swift counter, Zhou Zhiyuan hastily mustered his own spiritual energy and met the punch head-on.

BANG! The collision of fists sent both men staggering back several steps. Chu Feng’s expression remained placid, but Zhou Zhiyuan’s face contorted in shock. He had felt it—the formidable, steely strength in Chu Feng’s body. This inner court disciple at the 6th level of the Spirit realm had just traded blows evenly with him, an 8th level core disciple trained in Mysterious Techniques.

“You are decently skilled. Boy, do you dare to announce your name!” Zhou Zhiyuan barked, not pressing another attack. Chu Feng stood tall, his voice clear and ringing across the desert. “I do not change my name whether I am sitting or standing. Inner court disciple of the Azure Dragon School, I am called Chu Feng!” “Chu Feng, very good. I’ve remembered you,” Zhou Zhiyuan spat, his voice icy. “After seeing a core disciple, you, a mere inner court disciple, not only did not pay your respects, you even disrespected me. You better not let me see you again or else I will have you face the consequences.” With a final venomous glare, he turned and strode away.

The moment he left, the Wings Alliance members swarmed around Chu Feng, their faces alight with admiration and awe. Bai Tong, Ye Taozi, the Dragon and Tiger brothers—they had never seen an inner court disciple stand up to a core disciple like that. They attributed his incredible physical defense to his Spirit power, a theory Chu Feng did not correct.

As the group resumed their march, Su Mei fell into step beside Chu Feng, her voice low. “You are really scary.” “What’s wrong?” “You just used the Breathing Technique or else you wouldn’t have been able to hold off Zhou Zhiyuan’s punch.” “That’s right. What’s so scary about that?” “Do you know how much time I spent training the Breathing Technique? I used an entire year to be able to use it. But you. You only used a few days!” “So are you praising that I’m too smart, or do you want me to say that you’re too stupid?” “You bastard.” “Ah~~” Another chunk of green blossomed on his arm, much to the resigned amusement of their companions.

Rubbing his sore arm, Chu Feng heard Su Mei speak again, softly. “Thank you.” “Thanks for what?” “You are a smart person, so I’m sure that you know what the future holds if you offended Zhou Zhiyuan. But you still chose to help me, I…” He cut her off, his tone turning serious and warm. “What are you saying? Don’t think of foolish things. Remember, not only some core disciple, even if there’s a stronger person that wants to bully you, I will stand in front of you without hesitation and help you to teach him a lesson!” “Why?” “Because you are a person that I want to protect!” He gave her a bright, unwavering smile and continued walking.

Su Mei stopped in her tracks, her beautiful eyes wide and shimmering with complex, unreadable emotions. For the first time, this young man she hadn’t known for long felt profoundly, undeniably reliable. A genuine, heartfelt smile blossomed on her face, so sweet it seemed to light up the harsh desert air. With a light, bouncing step, she caught up to him, walking by his side with her hands clasped behind her back, the troubles of the road momentarily forgotten in a newfound sense of security and camaraderie. Ahead, the tomb of the Profound realm expert awaited, a crucible of danger and opportunity where Chu Feng’s newly honed Spirit power, his mysterious treasures, and his defiant courage would all be put to the ultimate test.