Kill Me More Times, I’ll Become Invincible

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Qiao Mu tried to numb himself through martial arts practice.

By focusing all his energy on practicing martial arts, he could immerse himself in it, highly concentrated, entering a state of flow.

Even though 80 years will not have a second shortened, he will have a false sense of time passing faster.

However, martial arts practice is ultimately a tough process. Whenever he is exhausted, he also comes out of the state of concentration.

So the many distracting thoughts that he forcefully set aside consumed him like an abyss.

At the execution ground of the vegetable market, King Qin looked at Qiao Mu who cut off his own leg and asked him with a smile:

"You’re courageous, but you’ve lost your life, just like Li Gongde."

"Was it worth it?"

At that moment, Qiao Mu didn’t have a moment of hesitation, just like in the first thirty years of his dreams.

But at that moment, he couldn’t help but feel a little regret in his heart.

"Being a hero comes with a price," he muttered to himself.

"If one’s skills are inferior, then death is inevitable."

For ordinary people who step forward, the price is death.

Qiao Mu won’t die.

But after experiencing three to four decades in his dreams, he now feels a bit like dying.

This is the price he paid.

But he could have stayed out of it, could have avoided coming to the Great Qin Prefecture.

So what if Copper Body Arhat arrives at the Imperial Capital? Qiao Mu has mastered Shape Changing Skill, he can simply change his appearance and leave, who can find him then?

When regret surged, other emotions followed one after another.

"This is not right," Qiao Mu was shaken, his gaze sharp as a sword, cutting off his many distractions, and then he continued to talk to himself:

"Eighty years is like a lifetime for an ordinary person. If I continue like this, before I reach eighty years, I might go mad."

It is impossible for an ordinary person to spend eighty years in isolation with a sound mind.

Qiao Mu briefly sobered up, he thought back to his days in the dream, feeling his mind clouded.

He needed to find a convincing reason for himself, one that could face King Qin’s questioning and provide a genuine answer.

If he felt regret in his heart, then the next fifty years would truly be like being imprisoned, the latter part of his life immersed in this regretful emotion, self-pitying.

Even if it’s a lie, he must come up with a reason that can deceive himself.

Otherwise, he will forever regret in the following fifty years, until he goes insane.

"I can’t regret, I need a reason, an answer," he continued talking to himself.

As his thoughts shifted, the scenery in the dream world changed again.

At this moment, Qiao Mu found himself in the battlefield of the solitary city in the desert, this was a memory from before.

Paper manbean soldiers kept attacking, he watched as Captain Hai led three hundred white-headed soldiers out of the city to fight to the death, one by one the soldiers fell under the Taoist soldiers, still fighting bravely.

These veteran soldiers were the bravest Qiao Mu had seen since he arrived, so he pondered at this moment, asking himself:

"If I were one of the veteran soldiers who defended the lonely city for forty years, facing King Qin’s questioning, I probably wouldn’t waver, right?"

Qiao Mu replayed this memory scene dozens of times, but eventually realized he was being foolish.

"Am I trying to move myself?" Qiao Mu chuckled self-deprecatingly.

People cannot deceive their inner feelings.

Qiao Mu used to charge into battle with the old soldiers, even leading them to their deaths.

But just because he fought alongside the old soldiers doesn’t mean he could also defend for forty years like Captain Hai and others.

He wasn’t from this world, so he didn’t feel belonging to the Great Yan Imperial Court, and naturally lacked patriotism.

What moved him in the past was not the noble sentiments of the old soldiers, but their brave sacrifice.

So, he couldn’t copy the old soldiers’ answer because he couldn’t relate to it.

"What will my answer be?" He closed his eyes, but his body, following muscle memory, began practicing the Long Life Fist once again.

He had fifty years to ponder.

If he had no answer and spent the full fifty years immersed in regret, he might have gone crazy by the time he woke up from his dreams.

…………………………………………………………..

Market square.

Blood water flooded the gaps between the cobblestones on the ground, spilling over the moss in the corner.

A boot stepped on the moss, making a light sound, and blood water once again seeped out from the moss.

The square-faced official raised his foot, furrowed his brow as he looked at the sole of his boot, deeply puzzled.

He was a martial artist of the 3rd rank in the Spiritual Refining Period, who had joined the Martial Arts League and mastered the Golden Body Technique, enabling him to transform completely.

In fact, although he was not a great hero originally, nor was he bloodthirsty, for some reason upon hearing King Qin’s order to massacre the market square civilians, he surprisingly felt little resistance in his heart.

"People’s hearts can change, have I changed too?" The square-faced official remained silent, carrying the axe on his shoulders and continuing to walk.

Although he had developed a layer of bronze skin through practicing the Martial Arts Golden Body, his original specialty was axe techniques, not fist techniques, so he still preferred using the axe.

He raised his battle-axe once again, about to strike a commoner who had collapsed and couldn’t get up, but suddenly his vision blurred.

He felt a sudden warning in his heart and turned to look at the figure.

It seemed to be an old man with all white hair, his long hair almost touching the ground.

However, upon closer inspection, he noticed that the man’s face had very few wrinkles and didn’t seem too old, perhaps in his middle age?

The white-haired middle-aged man didn’t speak, standing in the middle of the road like a statue, hands hanging down, eyes void of life, as if lost in thought, motionless, with many flaws.

Despite walking away, the military official inexplicably felt a sense of dread, so he quickly walked around the corner of the street, leaving the middle-aged man behind.

Although he had walked far, the command of King Qin still lingered in his mind.

Walking onto another street, he caught sight of a thin man crouched under the butcher’s stall table, and he immediately strode over, lifting the battle-axe on his shoulder and swinging it down with force.

However, before he could strike, his vision blurred, and the eerie white-haired middle-aged man reappeared in front of him, staring at the falling giant axe.

The axe, initially coming down fast, slowed to a stop just an inch away from the middle-aged man’s face, as the wind force lifted his white hair in front of his forehead.

His wrist was shaking violently, feeling sore, and the huge axe in his hand was shaking too.

"Scaredy-cat, why did you stop?" came another Copper Clad General’s mocking voice beside him.

"Now you realize your conscience and want to stop? Isn’t it too late?"

"I am not stopping." The square-faced officer clenched his teeth and slowly lifted the massive axe in his hand.

"This seems to be a martial artist at the first level of Spiritual Refining Period," he said with a hoarse voice.

The first level of Spiritual Refining Period is already the peak in the hierarchy of the nine ranks of martial artists.

At this stage, the overwhelmingly strong mind can already influence external physical objects.

Former first-ranked martial artist Qin Shiqing could make thrown stones change direction, subtly displaying similarities with the cultivator’s manipulation techniques.

But that’s where it ends.

He just felt as if the huge axe in his hand had struck an invisible mountain, not because he intended to hold back, but because he couldn’t bring himself to strike down.

Is the 1st rank of Spiritual Refining Period really this strong? The square-faced official wondered.

If an ordinary 1st rank of Spiritual Refining Period could stop his axe with just their eyes without even moving, then what’s the point of him practicing the Golden Body Technique?

With this thought in mind, he suddenly felt a violent earthquake, and darkness filled his vision.

It was actually the middle-aged man with white hair who opened his palm and held the square-faced official’s face in his hand.

Only heard a sour creaking sound, the square-faced man twisted the head made of copper from Cloud Patterns Mountain in the palm of the white-haired man and took it off from his neck.

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