High Martial: I Use Everything as Swords

Just thinking about it made Han Feng restless. He immediately took a bottle of Concentrated Spiritual Liquid from his Storage Ring and drank it to recover his depleted Sword Essence. Then, he got up and headed outside, intending to continue his training.

In the break room, Han Feng downed the entire bottle of Concentrated Spiritual Liquid.

The cool liquid slid down his throat, instantly transforming into a searing current that washed through his parched meridians.

If any ordinary Martial Artists outside saw him chugging a priceless Spiritual Liquid like this, they’d probably have an aneurysm on the spot.

This was something meant to save one’s life in a critical moment, yet he was drinking it like a Red Bull.

"Hooo..."

Han Feng let out a long breath. Most of the fatigue in his eyes vanished, replaced by an almost fanatical excitement.

That last flight was exhausting, but it was also a real thrill.

Most importantly, his Sword Control Technique’s Skill Proficiency had shot up by a thousand points, bringing him just a hair’s breadth away from a breakthrough.

This feeling of being right at the threshold without crossing over was unbearable.

’No, I have to strike while the iron is hot.’

Han Feng shot to his feet and pushed the door open.

In the hangar, Lin Xue and Zhao Yu were leading a team, fussing over the "Ghost" fighter jet as if they were serving royalty. They were examining every single screw three times over with a magnifying glass.

When Zhao Yu saw Han Feng return and start to climb into the cockpit again, he was so startled he nearly dropped the large wrench in his hand on his foot.

"You’re going to fly again?

This is a prototype! After those high-intensity maneuvers just now, the metal fatigue hasn’t fully dissipated..."

"Don’t worry, no stunts this time."

Han Feng waved a hand dismissively and nimbly hopped into the cockpit. "I didn’t collect all the data earlier. I’m just going up to take it for a couple of spins, get a feel for her."

"Take it for a spin?"

The corner of Lin Xue’s mouth twitched.

’Taking a prototype that cost billions and could blow half the factory complex sky-high for a "spin"?’

Before the technicians could react, the cockpit canopy had already closed.

This time, there was no earth-shattering sonic boom, no flashy vertical takeoff.

The black fighter glided out of the hangar like a ghost. It taxied for less than two hundred meters on the runway before its nose lifted gracefully, and it pierced the heavens.

...

「Ten thousand meters high, above the Cloud Sea.」

Han Feng was not "taking it for a spin" as he had claimed.

The fighter weaved through the clouds, at times diving at extreme speeds, at others executing a sharp roll.

But he was no longer performing those suicidal maneuvers that pulled dozens of Gs. Instead, he closed his eyes, relying entirely on his Divine Sense to perceive the changes in the airflow.

[Sword Control Technique Skill Proficiency +2]

[Sword Control Technique Skill Proficiency +3]

The system notifications chimed like a beautiful rhythm, pulsing continuously in his mind.

’It’s not enough. Still not enough.’

Han Feng frowned.

His current actions were more akin to "piloting" the aircraft, relying on its aerodynamic design and engine thrust.

But what he wanted wasn’t piloting, it was "Sword Control."

He wanted to make this steel behemoth, weighing dozens of tons, an extension of his fingers—a part of his own body.

’Treat it like a sword.’

’The wings are the blade, the engine is the hilt, and the airflow is the momentum of the sword.’

Han Feng took a deep breath. He stopped moving the control stick and even released his grip on the throttle.

He unleashed the boundless Spiritual Power from his Sea of Consciousness, holding nothing back. It poured out along the pre-inscribed Rune Circuits, instantly enveloping the entire fighter jet.

HUMMM!

In that instant, the fighter jet, which had previously only offered cold, mechanical feedback, suddenly came "alive" within his Perception.

He could clearly feel a turbulent current of air in the left intake, and an infinitesimally slight lag in the hydraulic rod of the right elevator.

He could even discern every trace of heat generated by the friction between the aircraft’s skin and the air.

’Rise.’

The thought crossed Han Feng’s mind.

Without any mechanical input, the fighter jet abruptly executed a bizarre lateral shift in the atmosphere.

It wasn’t achieved by deflecting its control surfaces, but by a repulsive force that erupted from the Spiritual Energy Circuits, forcibly "pushing" the jet to the side.

[BOOM!]

And in that exact instant, the progress bar in his mind, which had been stuck, was finally shattered.

[Ding! Congratulations, Host. Your Core Skill [Sword Control Technique] has reached maximum Skill Proficiency!]

[Level Up: Mastery → Small Success (1/10,000)!]

RUMBLE!

An indescribably vast torrent of information materialized out of thin air in the depths of Han Feng’s mind.

It was not dry text, but a flood of countless bizarre and dazzling images.

He felt as if he were seeing a Sword Cultivator in white robes, riding a Flying Sword through the astral winds of the Nine Heavens.

The Sword Cultivator used no flashy moves. With but a single thought, the Flying Sword beneath his feet transformed into a streak of light, crossing a thousand miles in an instant to cleave through the heavens.

At the same time, an even purer and more tyrannical form of Energy poured in from the void, blasting directly into Han Feng’s body.

System Empowerment!

This Energy, without undergoing any conversion, charged directly into the eighth Dao Vein he had just finished constructing—the Lung Meridian of Hand Taiyin.

The Dao Vein, which would have originally required at least three days of meticulous effort to fully solidify, was now scoured by this Energy, as if being forged with white-hot molten iron.

SZZZZZ!

That was the sound of Spiritual Qi being frantically compressed and refined within his meridians.

In the span of just a few breaths, the entire Lung Meridian of Hand Taiyin was completely cleared, and it began to emit a lustrous, jade-like sheen.

But that wasn’t all.

The remaining Energy, like a furious dragon, roared as it charged into his Dantian and merged with the lake of Sword Essence, which had already reached 900 drops.

The surface of the lake surged!

900... 950...

Finally, it settled at 1,000 drops!

The Sword Essence, originally a silvery-white, now took on a deeper hue. It faintly radiated a chilling glint that could make one’s heart palpitate, as if every single drop was a miniature sliver of Sword Qi.