Ink Armor

Song Linjie seized Mo Li’s ankle, the energy within him swiftly channeling into his arm, intent on tossing him off the martial stage at once.

Suddenly, Mo Li’s sleeves billowed wide, and two jagged iron wires wound toward Song Linjie, forcing him to release his grip and retreat. The Heaven-Forging Blade spun in his hand, and as the two segments of iron wire were about to touch Song Linjie’s arm, they slipped and spun across the stage floor.

At last, Mo Li landed back on the martial platform, no longer concealing his skill. He pressed a hand to his waist and, in an instant, donned armor. The armor was tinged blue, its inner walls traced with thread-like grooves, and its exterior inscribed with runes. At first glance, it appeared an ordinary suit of armor buried under sand for years, yet it bore no weathered feeling; instead, it exuded an ancient aura.

The spectators erupted in astonishment. How could a man, in the blink of an eye, be clad in full armor? It was utterly unfathomable.

From the loft above, a man from Chenliu asked calmly, “Is this the ingenious craft you spoke of? To my eyes, it is but a suit of armor.”

Song Qingtian did not mock the emperor’s ignorance, but explained serenely, “Heavenly Craftsmanship is a forging art. The Mo family’s mechanical arts are many, and this armor represents the pinnacle of that craft. It combines Daoist runes with Mo family mechanisms, and is called Rune Armor, or Mechanized Armor. Within it are three hundred and sixty fine channels—only by infusing internal energy can it be controlled. The precision and mastery with which one’s armor is forged, and the proficiency of use, determine its power; the more internal energy poured in, the greater the strength revealed. The runes on the outside are Daoist seals, suppressing excessive internal energy to prevent the armor from rupturing, and they serve as both a warning of the armor’s limits and an extra layer of defense.”

At this, the man from Chenliu began to covet this masterpiece, murmuring to himself, “If used for the army, might it create an extraordinary force?”

Before Chenliu could dwell further on the armor’s application, Song Qingtian interrupted his fantasy, “Your Majesty, it is not so simple. Even among the Mo family elders, few can craft such armor. The materials alone are exorbitant, and the channels must be carved to suit each individual’s internal energy and skills, so the armor fits like a second skin. Therefore, Mo family armor is almost always made for personal use only.”

Despite Song Qingtian’s explanation, Chenliu persisted, pressing, “Is there truly no one in the Mo family who can forge armor for others?”

Song Qingtian chuckled softly, “Your Majesty may inquire if you wish.”

Thinking of the fate of the Chen nation, Chenliu turned to his old eunuch and instructed, “Ask them afterwards. Say that I am willing to cooperate with the Mo family, even offer them protection; it is not an attempt to recruit them.”

Song Qingtian, hearing this, couldn’t help but regard the emperor with newfound respect—such humility for the sake of the nation.

Below the stage, Zhang Ling listened to Li Jingqiu’s explanation of Mo Li’s mechanized armor, not with shock, but with an odd sense of discord—the term ‘mechanized armor’ seemed out of place in this era.

Clad in mechanized armor, Mo Li no longer dodged. He stamped his foot, cracking the jade beneath him. Though the armor seemed cumbersome, it burst forth with startling speed as he suddenly appeared before Song Linjie.

Song Linjie stood his ground, not using the Heaven-Forging Blade, but instead answering with a fist. Their blows met.

Mo Li retreated five steps, and so did Song Linjie—no more, no less.

This unnerved Zhang Ling, who had once agreed to duel Song Linjie as equals. Now, both were ranked third-tier, yet Zhang Ling could only hope to surpass Song Linjie in agility; in a direct clash, he could not even estimate his odds.

Beside him, Li Jingqiu felt true astonishment. Mo Li’s momentum was already approaching the first-tier; had his six meridians been fully connected, he could strike as quickly as a true first-tier master. With just the armor, he had leapt a whole realm—a fact hard to accept for those who had painstakingly advanced step by step.

What was even more surprising was that, even when Mo Li used such means, Song Linjie was not outmatched.

The crowd watched eagerly, but only Song Linjie on the stage bore the true hardship. After a single punch, his internal energy grew chaotic and difficult to circulate through his five opened meridians.

Mo Li saw this instantly and gave him no time to recover. He snatched a spear from a nearby rack and hurled it through the air.

Song Linjie’s internal energy had not settled; he dared not meet the spear head-on. He leaned to one side, and the spear shot past his ear, embedding itself in the railing.

Whether civil or martial officials, seeing these two fight without restraint, each stepped back unconsciously. Only those confident in their skills remained, some even disregarding their status and leaping down to watch from below.

These warriors, trained daily in battlefield killing arts, found the unique techniques of these martial artists fascinating—if they could grasp the secrets, they cared little for propriety. Such moves were valuable both for battle and for showing off in the barracks.

As Song Linjie straightened, Mo Li whipped his golden threads at Song Linjie’s feet, forcing him to move and preventing him from gathering true energy—he could only dodge passively.

Song Linjie, instead of retreating, charged at Mo Li. The Heaven-Forging Blade left his hand, spinning through the air before returning to his grasp as he closed in.

Meanwhile, the golden threads in Mo Li’s hands had dwindled to less than a foot.

Mo Li discarded the threads altogether, meeting Song Linjie head-on with fists and feet.

They were close enough that, even though Song Linjie had regained his true energy, the proximity made wielding his blade awkward, so he tossed it aside, embedding it in the jade floor.

The two grappled with bare hands and feet. The civil officials found it unsightly—such a brawl was no different from a street fight. Yet the martial men from the army watched with relish; this was a true contest between men, free of scheming.

The more Song Linjie fought, the fiercer he became. Though his internal energy faded faster, his attacks grew ever more reckless.

In comparison, Mo Li’s momentum was clearly waning, but he remained calm, calculating his remaining energy—he estimated he could last with sixty percent confidence.

So Mo Li chose to make fewer moves, waiting for Song Linjie’s energy to run out.

But in the next few exchanges, Mo Li felt the force of Song Linjie’s punches nearly double. Just as he was about to fail to block the final blow, Song Linjie suddenly froze in place.

Time waits for no one—Mo Li seized the chance to kick Song Linjie off the stage.