Hearing Li Ke's answer, G.S.D felt a touch of helplessness.
Those who walked the path of Blood-Qi never met a good end. The raw, overwhelming power of Blood-Qi was simply more than a fragile human vessel could endure; merely channeling it was enough to drive one to despair.
Berserkers manipulated their own blood, a practice that frequently left them dead from exsanguination right alongside their slain foes, or killed outright by the volatile, foreign Blood-Qi ravaging their bodies.
Though a Hell Bringer could use their immense power to suppress that foreign energy—ruthlessly absorbing blood to prolong their own lives—it was nothing more than a temporary fix.
The erosion of the brain, the mental trauma, and the physical toll brought on by a foreign Blood-Qi were all ticking time bombs for a Hell Bringer. Once they absorbed too much, to the point where their bodies could no longer contain the volatile energy...
Destruction was inevitable.
Unless they underwent Blood Ignition.
"Blood Ignition is a path every Berserker must eventually walk," G.S.D said. "When the human body becomes too weak to contain such overwhelming power, only through the crucible of Blood Ignition can one truly master the ultimate power of Blood-Qi. During this process, the energy will swell uncontrollably within the Berserker's body, even pooling in the brain. The foreign wills locked inside the blood will assault your mind and consciousness. You must conquer the illusions manifest in your heart and reclaim control over your body. Only then can you completely burn away the volatile energy, turning it into pure, manageable Blood-Qi."
G.S.D paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "Once achieved, you can manipulate your Blood-Qi without physical limitations, and you will no longer have to worry about your life ending prematurely. At that stage, Blood-Qi is your life. Your body will have transcended mortality."
G.S.D had just laid bare the ultimate destiny of all Berserker kind. But when his gaze shifted back to Li Ke, his tone grew complicated.
"Of course, that is the standard Blood Ignition for a regular Berserker. But you are different." G.S.D's voice carried a deep, nostalgic sigh. "You have two paths open to you."
"Please enlighten me, Master," Li Ke replied.
"The first path is to rely on your currently vast and pure Blood-Qi, continuing your cultivation until the time is right. Then, you will absorb the Blood-Qi of other living beings and undergo a standard Blood Ignition. However, this is exceptionally dangerous. You lack the experience of repeatedly dragging yourself back from the brink of death; it is nearly impossible for you to succeed this way. Though the cultivation process itself would be much smoother, whether you can successfully transform into a Blood Evil depends entirely on your own fate."
Li Ke's mouth twitched. He had avoided mindlessly absorbing Blood-Qi precisely because he wanted to steer clear of this treacherous path. Besides, he didn't possess a Ghost Arm. His ability to draw in blood using only his own energy couldn't hold a candle to those born with the curse.
It was a hardware limitation. On top of that, that path was just asking for death.
"The second path," G.S.D continued, "is to continuously burn your own blood, triggering an independent version of Blood Ignition. Your Blood-Qi Secret Technique already contains guidelines on how to purify your energy, but Blood Ignition is fundamentally different—it is far more efficient, yet excruciatingly painful. The purity of your Blood-Qi is downright miraculous, meaning you won't have to worry about it running rampant during the ritual. You can ignite your energy indefinitely, using the flames to temper and strengthen your physical form. A stronger body can then generate and endure even more powerful Blood-Qi! However, this demands an incredibly high—almost impossible—level of control and willpower. If the agonizing pain forces you to lose focus and fail to stop the ignition, you will likely be drained dry and die on the spot!"
Deep down, G.S.D hoped Li Ke would choose this second path. Although it wouldn't allow him to manifest blood armor or transform into a Blood Evil, it would grant Li Ke an unimaginably powerful physique, devastating Blood-Qi, and a boundless, roaring vitality.
Furthermore, he would be devoid of conventional weaknesses. Much like a Blood Evil, he wouldn't die unless his head or heart were pulverized in a single instant.
Aside from being a slow process, it had no downsides.
Of course, for anyone else, this method was a death sentence. If a hundred people attempted it, maybe one or two would survive, and even then, they would likely end up crippled or insane. G.S.D only brought it up because Li Ke had managed to cultivate to his current level without a single scratch. To anyone else, it was still a demonic, forbidden path.
After all, ordinary people couldn't replenish their Blood-Qi overnight!
"Then again, I am just an old man sharing his thoughts. I am no Berserker myself, so how you walk your path is entirely up to you," G.S.D chuckled softly. "If you truly wish to learn, I will teach you how to ignite your blood and perform Blood Ignition. But I must still advise you: if you have any other options, it is always better to choose a different path."
Li Ke, however, had a crystal-clear vision. And more importantly, he possessed a vital asset G.S.D didn't know about: the ability to rapidly regenerate his Blood-Qi.
"Master G.S.D, I choose the second path," Li Ke said resolutely, bowing as he offered a gift. "This is my formal apprenticeship offering. Please accept it."
Li Ke produced every single gold bar in his possession, even adding his own sword to the pile. Setting aside only a small amount for basic living expenses, he pushed the rest across the table toward G.S.D.
"There is no need for you to take me as your master," G.S.D said, waving a hand in refusal. "After all, this old man hasn't truly taught you much, and I have no use for this money anyway. Besides, stripping a swordsman of his blade is a grave insult."
For someone like G.S.D, material wealth had long since ceased to matter. If he truly wanted riches, why wouldn't he have simply joined the Empire?
His sole purpose was to help as many Ghost Knights as he could. While Li Ke wasn't a Ghost Knight, he was still a young man searching for direction along his path. As a senior traveler of that road, G.S.D felt it was his natural duty to offer guidance and counsel.
To him, it was simply what an elder ought to do.
Li Ke took back his sword but made no move to retrieve the gold.
"As a seeker of knowledge, one must understand that wisdom does not come easily," Li Ke insisted. "Knowledge itself is priceless, but your willingness to guide me must be met with enough material gratitude. If it isn't, others will never learn to respect the value of what you offer."
Even though G.S.D hadn't given him a formal, extensive education, pointing out the proper direction and offering to teach the secret of Blood Ignition was a massive favor. Li Ke felt duty-bound to pay him back. Since G.S.D refused to take him as a disciple, providing financial support was the logical alternative.
As for whether the price was worth it...
While G.S.D might not be ranked among the absolute apex entities of the Arad Continent—such as the Apostles—he was an absolute monster. Take the Four Bludgeon Masters, for instance. If G.S.D were to go all out in a life-or-death duel against Aganzo—the man currently guarding the alley entrance who was revered as a Bludgeon Master—the only one walking away alive would be G.S.D.
Li Ke wasn't even sure if he could defeat Aganzo himself. Maybe he could, maybe he couldn't; Aganzo's actual combat experience and swordsmanship were undeniably superior to his own.
"Furthermore, helping so many people requires at least some financial backing," Li Ke added, casting his gaze toward the area where the young children with Ghost Arms gathered. "This can help you support more of them. For example... buying medicine, food, and books."
G.S.D fell silent for a long moment before giving a slow shake of his head.
Li Ke was right. Though the old man believed a life of poverty tempered the will of these cursed children—ensuring they wouldn't easily succumb to the demonic whispers of the Ghost Arm—he knew deep down that they still craved good food and toys.
More than that, they truly needed a proper school.
He had toyed with the idea before, but he feared that if he amassed too much wealth and status, many desperate Ghost Knights would be too intimidated to seek his help. Most ordinary people lacked the courage to ask a wealthy figure for favors, assuming the price would be far too high.
But when it came to a smiling, blind old man living in an alley, they harbored far fewer fears and reservations.
"Very well..."
G.S.D finally nodded. Dropping the subject of the money, he began to detail the precise techniques behind this variant of Blood Ignition. He explained everything down to the minutest detail, and Li Ke listened with absolute focus.
However...
Is it really supposed to be this difficult? Li Ke thought, a frown tugging at his brow.
Li Ke let his Blood-Qi coil around his fingertips. After listening to G.S.D's explanation, he had attempted a quick practice run, only to find that his energy was far too stable. There wasn't even a remote chance of it igniting.
"This is because your Blood-Qi is not yet volatile enough," G.S.D explained. "Unlike other Berserkers, you haven't drastically depleted your life force, nor have you forcibly absorbed anyone else's Blood-Qi. Your energy has never truly burned. Strictly speaking, you can't even really be called a Berserker."
G.S.D paused for a moment before continuing.
"Furthermore, without the experience of repeatedly teetering on the edge of life and death, your willpower lacks that extreme, unyielding edge. I do not mean to say your resolve is weak, but rather that you are not accustomed to converting your very flesh and blood into power. Ghost Knights, from the very first day they manifest the Ghost Arm, are forced to go against their survival instincts. They habitually sacrifice their lifespans for strength. This isn't a fault of yours; it is simply your body's natural self-preservation mechanism. I am afraid you must steel your will to the point where it overrides your basic instincts before you can successfully ignite your Blood-Qi by choice."
His tone carried a deep, melancholic sigh. If the Ghost Arm were truly a blessing, countless people would be clamoring to obtain it. But the reality was that aside from Empire citizens driven mad by a thirst for power, no one willingly sought the Kazan Curse or its ominous strength.
Beyond granting temporary, fleeting power, the Ghost Arm brought nothing but ruin.
Even if one tried their hardest to suppress it, the arm would still unconsciously augment their strength, drain their life force, and trick them into relying on its power.
"You are walking a path no one has ever tread before, so how you navigate it is entirely up to you," G.S.D said. "Perhaps fighting against incredibly powerful and resolute foes, enduring grueling training, or finally understanding what matters most to you—to the point where you would willingly lay down your life for it—will be the catalyst you need to ignite your Blood-Qi."
"In other words, without the shortcut of a Kazan-cursed Ghost Arm, continuing down this path requires a resolve that completely transcends life and death?" Li Ke asked, cutting to the heart of the matter.
"As far as I can tell, yes," G.S.D confirmed once more. "Your situation is exceptionally rare... Even I have never seen anything quite like it."
Reaffirming his assessment, G.S.D reached behind him and pulled out a heavy scroll.
"These are formulas for various elixirs I've gathered over the years, along with a few secret swordsmanship manuals. Study them when you have the time. If you run into any trouble, you can always come find me. However, a word of caution: though the swordsmanship here has been modified to omit the exact function of a Ghost Arm, several powerful techniques still fundamentally rely on its nature. You may use them as a reference, but you must absolutely not copy them blindly."
G.S.D was genuinely curious to see just how far Li Ke could go, and he didn't want to see the young man meet an early grave. Unfortunately, his expertise was primarily tied to helping Ghost Knights.
"Thank you, Master G.S.D."
Li Ke accepted the scroll gratefully, making no attempt to open it immediately. After exchanging a few more polite pleasantries, he took his leave.
As he walked out, he noticed that the Bludgeon Master, Aganzo, hadn't left. Instead, he was leaning against the alleyway wall, waiting for him.
"Don't go seeking Kazan's Curse just for the sake of power."
Aganzo looked at Li Ke, a characteristic melancholy clouding his gaze. Having overheard the conversation with G.S.D, he was well aware of Li Ke's predicament. He despised the thought of anyone intentionally exposing themselves to the curse just to chase strength.
Seeing Li Ke desperately striving to grow stronger—just as he had done in his youth—yet treading a completely uncharted territory, Aganzo fell silent for a moment. Then, he reached into his coat, pulled out a worn notebook, and tossed it over.
"That power represents nothing but tragedy. This is a journal from my earlier days. It might be of some use to you."
Li Ke caught the notebook in surprise, staring at Aganzo with genuine curiosity.
"This is your personal journal. Is it really alright to just hand it over to me like this?"
He truly couldn't fathom why Aganzo would show him such casual generosity.
"Because you're a greatsword user too, and I don't particularly enjoy watching people take the wrong path," Aganzo replied flatly. "As for why exactly... who knows."
Even Aganzo couldn't fully explain it. Perhaps he feared this young man would ruin himself chasing a Ghost Arm just for power, stepping onto the same tragic path as his late lover, Roxy. Or perhaps he felt that this man might grow into a worthy rival in the future—someone who could give him a battle fierce enough to make him forget his sorrow, if only for a moment.
He didn't know. He simply had an intuition that Li Ke was important. Important to this world, and important to him—someone who demanded special consideration.
It was a strange, almost fated sensation. Aganzo harbored a lingering certainty that their paths would cross again.
And besides... he desperately craved an opponent who shared his style, whose strength was close to or even surpassed his own!
"Long story short, don't go dying on me. And the next time we meet, buy me a drink. Consider that payment for the notebook." With that, Aganzo turned and vanished down the street, leaving completely.