Void Absorption: Rise of the Martial God

2

His heart leaped with excitement as he immediately lowered his head to examine it.

Nine Solar Sovereign Art:

The Supreme Martial Scripture!

Supreme solar force, unyielding and absolute.

Once mastered, it generates internal energy at an astonishing speed, greatly enhancing the body's recovery abilities. Even ordinary punches and kicks can unleash devastating force, with unmatched defensive capabilities. It renders the practitioner immune to all poisons and specifically counters any cold or darkness-based techniques.

The human body contains approximately 52 single pressure points, 300 paired pressure points, and 50 extraordinary pressure points — totaling 720 pressure points in all. Among these, 108 are vital points, with 72 being non-lethal and the remaining 36 known as "death points."

Mastering this art requires unblocking all these pressure points. Once achieved, the practitioner's energy becomes limitless, circulating and regenerating endlessly.

A supreme martial technique?

What exactly is a supreme martial technique?

A flicker of confusion flashed in Dorian's eyes.

From his inherited memories, he knew that martial techniques in the Aethermoor Continent were categorized into four tiers: Mortal, Mystic, Earth, and Heaven.

But if he recalled correctly, even the most prestigious martial academy in the vast Ironveil Kingdom — Stormcrest Martial Academy — only possessed Mystic-tier techniques.

As for Earth-tier techniques... those likely existed only within the legendary sects.

As for Heaven-tier techniques...

Forgive his ignorance, but he had never heard of such a thing existing anywhere.

And yet, right before his eyes, there now lay a supreme martial arts manual that transcended even that...

Just how powerful was this technique?

Brimming with curiosity, Dorian flipped through the pages of the Nine Solar Sovereign Art manual. As he finished, the book dissolved into shimmering starlight, merging directly into his mind.

The pathways of energy circulation, the methods of cultivation — all of it was instantly engraved into his memory!

A sharp glint flashed in Dorian's eyes!

Was it just his imagination?

Even though his cultivation realm hadn't advanced, he felt an overwhelming surge of power, as if he could now punch a mid-level Two-Star martial artist to death with a single blow!

Was this technique seriously this insane?

A thrill of excitement pulsed through Dorian's heart.

"Whoa, calm down, calm down... The path of martial arts is endless. This is just the beginning..."

Dorian took a deep breath, willing himself to settle his racing thoughts.

But just as he was about to immerse himself in meditation and explore the profound mysteries of the Nine Solar Sovereign Art—

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A sharp knock echoed at the door.

"Who could it be at this hour?" Dorian frowned slightly but still walked over to answer it.

Two strangers stood on his doorstep. One was short and stocky, the other had a weaselly face with sharp, pinched features. Though Dorian didn't recognize them, the condescending sneers they wore were all too familiar.

Narrowing his eyes, he spoke coolly, "What brings you here so late?"

"Well, well, if it isn't Dorian the Useless!" The sharp-faced youth's eyes lit up with mock delight.

"Hahaha! We heard you hadn't shown up at the academy for days — thought you'd kicked the bucket!" The stocky one chimed in, laughing derisively.

"Morons."

Without another word, Dorian slammed the door shut in their faces, leaving them coughing in a cloud of dust.

"...?!"

For a moment, the two stood frozen in disbelief — then erupted in fury.

Damn it!

How dare this worthless trash act so arrogantly in front of them?!

"BAM!"

The short, stocky young man kicked the door open with a powerful stomp, sending it flying off its hinges. The two barged into Dorian's room, their faces twisted with rage.

Dorian stood with his back to them, his expression now cold and detached.

"Speak. Who sent you?"

There was no such thing as a random provocation — someone had to be behind it.

As soon as Dorian finished speaking, the stocky youth who had entered first sneered.

"Dorian the Useless, you've got some nerve! You kicked the backside of a woman Brother Warren had his eyes on, and you think hiding at home will save you?"

Got it!

Brother Warren?

That would be Warren Cole, the prodigy from the third-year class of Duskfall Academy, already at the late Two-Star stage of cultivation.

So, this was all because of one of Lyra Ashton's suitors. Dorian finally understood.

If Dorian had once been the worst of Lyra's backup options, then Warren was the frontrunner — the one most likely to win her heart.

"Why even waste words on this loser?"

The sharp-faced youth shook his head dismissively.

"True enough!"

The short, stocky youth cracked his neck with a series of loud pops, then glared at Dorian with a sneer.

"Alright, Dorian the Useless, Brother Warren's orders were clear — beat you so badly even your own mother wouldn't recognize you. So, you better—"

"Shut your mouth!"

Before the stocky youth could finish, Dorian's expression turned icy. Channeling his energy, he spun around and delivered a vicious punch straight to the man's face — lightning-fast!

THUD!

A sickening crunch echoed as the stocky youth howled in pain, soaring backward through the air. Bloodied teeth scattered like broken pearls as his body traced a graceful arc before slamming hard into the ground.

"AAAH! My face! My teeth!"

The moment he hit the dirt, the stocky youth clutched his ruined mouth, writhing and wailing like a wounded animal.

Dorian's face was icy as he advanced step by step toward the fallen young man.

In his past life, he had been a renowned martial arts grandmaster across Valdris — fearless, indomitable, and unrivaled in dominance.

With nothing but his fists, he had forged a reputation that commanded awe and reverence from thousands.

His martial philosophy was simple: charge forward without hesitation, bowing to no one.

So what if his current strength was but a fraction of what it once had been?

Did this insignificant worm truly think he could provoke a grandmaster and walk away unscathed?

"Do... Dorian the Useless, you—"

The stocky youth lay sprawled on the ground, trembling as he pointed a shaky finger at Dorian, his face twisted in disbelief.

Rumors had painted Dorian as a weakling, a coward who never dared to fight back, no matter how much he was mocked.

So why was he suddenly so ruthless? How had he struck so swiftly — before anyone could react?

"Useless?" Dorian sneered. "Let's see who's truly worthless."

THUD!

A heavy boot came crashing down, slamming directly onto the young man's forehead. His eyes bulged — no scream, no struggle — just instant unconsciousness.

And that was with Dorian holding back. A full-force strike would have crushed his skull outright.

Only now did the sharp-faced youth behind him snap out of his daze.

Staring at the stocky young man sprawled on the ground, mouth full of blood and barely clinging to life, his face twisted in disbelief. He thrust a trembling finger at Dorian and shrieked,

"Dorian the Useless! You — you actually beat Brother Warren's man half to death! You're dead! You hear me? Dead!"

"Dead, am I?"