In the time it took them to speak, from the rooftop platform, they could see a corner of the school in the distance erupting with waves of commotion.
Of course, given the realms of the two of them, even without standing somewhere so high and far-reaching, nothing could have escaped their notice.
Usually, however, the more powerful a lifeform was, the more deliberately it filtered its perceptions, thereby nurturing its mental strength.
When ordinary people looked at things, their brains naturally filtered out countless useless details to reduce the burden. It was an instinct. And while more powerful lifeforms saw their capacity to process information grow along with their lives, that growth was often accompanied by an ever-broadening field of view.
Without control, it would not be enough to drag them down, but it would still waste a great deal of mental strength.
The current cultivation system had already developed to the point where many things had been thoroughly understood.
Mental strength was the most important thing to every cultivator, bar none.
The Dao was comprehended through the heart. Comprehending the Dao consumed mental strength.
Waste a little here and a little there, and in the end, it was only natural that your cultivation would progress more slowly than others'.
This was also why people of ordinary talent who could single-mindedly devote themselves to something often achieved no small accomplishments.
Of course, such theories had existed in similar forms long ago—perhaps even dating back to when swordsmanship had first emerged—but they had simply never been systematized.
Unlike today, when even the intangible thing known as mental strength could be measured. Generated mental strength minus expended mental strength, multiplied by focus, ultimately yielded an entirely new figure: "Dao Heart."
This thing had emerged more than seven thousand years ago. Based on