High Martial: I Use Everything as Swords

The door to the Quiet Chamber was shut tight.

"Quick! Quick, stop him! This is absolute nonsense!"

Councilor Wang’s face was ashen. He was so anxious he was practically hopping on the spot, raising a hand to pound on the door.

If his technical experts saw a military elite performing what looked like an Evil Cult ritual inside the base, where would he ever show his face again?

"Wait."

Chen Beixuan grabbed his hand, his brow tightly furrowed. He closed his eyes, and an invisible stream of Spiritual Power silently passed through the thick, soundproof door.

Inside the Quiet Chamber, the scene was laid bare before him.

The young Pilot, Wang Rui, sat cross-legged, his face as pale as paper and his aura weak. He had clearly lost too much blood.

But there wasn’t the slightest trace of sinister energy around him. Instead, a current of pure True Qi was slowly circulating, nourishing his body.

Han Feng sat opposite him, his expression calm and his eyes slightly closed.

A wisp of refined Divine Sense enveloped Wang Rui like the most precise monitoring instrument, constantly tracking his vital signs.

Everything was under control.

Councilor Wang was no amateur himself and also perceived the situation inside. His anger immediately subsided for the most part, but his confusion only deepened.

’What in the world is that kid up to? Bleeding this much just to get intimate with a helmet?’

Just then, a flicker of understanding crossed Chen Beixuan’s eyes.

"It’s about to end."

Inside the Quiet Chamber, Han Feng slowly withdrew his Divine Sense.

Wang Rui opened his eyes. Though his body was weak, his gaze was astonishingly bright.

He looked down at the unremarkable helmet in his arms, and a feeling of being connected by blood washed over him.

The helmet felt as if it had become a new organ, a part of his very own body.

"Feeling it?" Han Feng’s voice rang out.

"I feel it, Instructor!" Wang Rui replied excitedly. "It’s... it’s like it’s breathing!"

"This is just the beginning."

Han Feng handed him a bottle of Elixir Pills. "From now on, use your True Qi and Qi Blood to nourish it every day. Remember, don’t be greedy. A little bit every day goes a long way."

Han Feng added in a level tone, "A month at most, and your synchronization rate with it will reach eighty percent."

With his instructions given, Han Feng stood up and pulled open the door to the Quiet Chamber.

Outside, a large crowd of people stood with complicated expressions, looking as if they were observing some rare animal at a zoo.

"Advisor Han!"

Councilor Wang was the first to speak, his tone scrutinizing.

"You had better give us a reasonable explanation! What exactly is this ’Blood Refining Technique’?"

"An explanation?"

Han Feng yawned lazily as if he had just woken up. "Councilor Wang, don’t make such a big deal out of it.

I just learned a few superficial tricks from an Ancient Cultivation Inheritance I found in the Suspended Mountain Secret Realm."

Of course, he wasn’t about to say that this was knowledge the system had poured into his mind when his Artifact Refining level broke through.

"The principle is simple. You use your essence blood as a medium to place a unique life imprint on an object, establishing the most direct spiritual connection.

You can think of it as... binding a personal account to a piece of equipment."

Hearing that it was from an Ancient Cultivation Inheritance and not some Evil Cult Secret Technique, the crowd collectively breathed a sigh of relief.

But Councilor Wang’s doubts were not dispelled.

He first offered some formulaic praise for Han Feng, acknowledging his Talent and abilities, before abruptly changing the subject.

"Advisor Han, your design philosophy is very advanced, but we must consider the practical realities.

This system is useless to the strong and unusable by the weak. Its positioning is very awkward."

"I admit, in the hands of a Grandmaster, it could unleash immense power.

But having a Grandmaster act as a Pilot is, in itself, a colossal waste of resources."

"Advisor Han, I understand what you’re trying to do. You want to create the ultimate weapon."

"But your idea is far too idealistic.

How much time and how many resources would it take to train a Pilot who can meet the Spiritual Power requirements and is also Proficient at piloting a fighter jet?

By the time he finally qualifies, his Cultivation would be not far from the Divine Containment Realm.

At that point, would he still be content with just being a Pilot?"

His analysis was logical and well-reasoned.

Even Li Tiecheng couldn’t help but frown.

Councilor Wang was speaking the truth.

In the Martial Arts World, the strong are ultimately the ones who are respected.

When a person’s individual strength reaches a certain level, the appeal of external objects like fighter jets does indeed diminish greatly.

Han Feng looked at Councilor Wang with a half-smile.

"So, according to you, we should change it back?"

"Back to the traditional model with joysticks, foot pedals, and a screen full of instrument panels?"

Councilor Wang nodded. "That is the most mature and reliable solution at present."

"And then?"

Han Feng’s voice suddenly turned cold.

"And then have our Pilots fly those sluggish iron coffins to go head-to-head with Tier Six City-Destruction Level creatures?"

"Councilor Wang, have you forgotten the original design purpose of the X-02?"

Han Feng stood up straight, an invisible, oppressive aura emanating from him.

"Its purpose wasn’t to let just anyone take it for a joyride."

"It was to give a group of ants, who are only at Tier Two or Tier Three, the fangs to bite a Tier Five or even a Tier Six beast to death!"

"If we revert to mechanical controls, its performance will be castrated by at least seventy percent.

What’s the difference between that kind of trash and the currently active ’Xiaolong·Modified’?

Why would I even bother building it then?

Wouldn’t it be better to just give the funding to General Li to buy artillery shells?"

Councilor Wang was rendered speechless, his face alternating between pale and livid.

"You... you’re just using sophistry! What’s the use of a grand ideal if it’s impossible in reality?"

"Who says it’s impossible?"

Han Feng cut him off and glanced at the time on his wrist.

"It’s 3:40 PM right now."

"That kid, Wang Rui, before he went in, his record in the simulator was lasting four minutes and twenty seconds with a synchronization rate of 32%."

"Give him one hour to recover."