"It was only basic martial arts."
That was how Shi Long Huizhen described the True Meaning Transmission in his hand.
But Wang Qi knew perfectly well that even so-called "basic martial arts inheritances" could be played into a dazzling profusion of tricks.
Take the so-called "swordsmanship inheritance," for instance. In truth, sword techniques occupied only a small portion of it. They were merely the continuous motion of a rigid object with a fixed shape through three-dimensional space—nothing remarkable, with little information involved.
Yet the "martial wisdom" contained behind them could hold an immense amount of information.
For example, under what circumstances was this martial art created, and what situations was it suited for?
Or, when an enemy attacked in such-and-such a manner, how should I throw a punch to defend myself?
Should I use offense as defense and attack where the enemy must rescue, or raise an arm to block, abandon the cart to save the general, and trade an unimportant organ for a vital point?
How should one fight when in imperfect condition? How should one fight when in perfect condition?
What if the enemy could fly? What if the enemy excelled at long-range spells?
How should one throw a punch underwater? What should one do in a vacuum?
Through repeated practice, any individual could develop an almost instinctive reflex, an approximate solution akin to an "empirical formula," allowing them to swiftly generate an appropriate response from their own martial arts when facing an unfamiliar situation.
That was what was known as "martial wisdom" or the "martial dao."
The information contained within these combinations of strategies was even greater than that contained within countless combinations of movements.
In the era of Ancient Methods, so-called "cultivating through battle" meant summarizing experience through "practice."
Modern Dharma immortality went a step further,