Soul Separation

Dense characters covered the stone slab, and Zhou Yan stared at them for the better part of the night.

The longer he looked, the colder the back of his neck felt.

The etchings cut three-tenths of an inch into the stone, every single stroke exuding a killing intent, as if carved purely by bare fingers.

Yet what these words discussed was an entirely different matter.

This was a divine-soul technique called the Soul Separation Scripture, its name inscribed at the very top of the stone slab. A single glance drove it straight into his mind.

It mainly explained how to condense and train a detached divine soul, and how to force divine intent out of this mortal shell.

In his past life, Zhou Yan had read plenty of pulp novels; things like flying immortals via sword-control and manipulating objects with divine intent were all fabricated.

Now that the real deal lay before his eyes, he could not regain his wits for a moment.

Good grief, this Heavenly Human Realm truly intended to turn one into a heavenly human!

He followed the opening line of the slab to guide his breath. The moment his divine intent gathered at the center of his brow, his head buzzed as if a needle were churning inside his skull.

The pain made him suck in a cold breath, and he quickly released it.

This damn thing is quite eerie, he muttered, rubbing his temples.

He understood now. The Soul Separation Scripture and the inner-sect blood-qi martial arts were completely different things.

Never mind mastering it, even just to reach the entry level required one to slowly cultivate divine intent bit by bit.

Without ten or eight years of grueling, millstone-like effort, he could not even hope to touch the threshold.

At this thought, the shred