Martial Dao Stele

"Heh, lost martial arts techniques aren't so easily comprehended, let alone divine powers."

Shen Chong stood among the crowd and said with a smile.

Every one of these scions from great families had reserved slots allocated by their clans each year to come here and seek enlightenment.

Yet after all these years, while some had comprehended martial arts techniques, no one seemed to have comprehended a lost one in more than a decade.

Wu Yuan folded his arms over his saber and gazed at the Martial Dao Stele. "Hard to say. That freak reached Sixth Rank Circulatory Acupoints Perfection on the day of the Martial Examination, then Fifth-Grade Peak a week later. I can't make sense of it."

"..." Shen Chong was speechless.

As for himself, even if he cultivated according to a cultivation method, talent was something whose upper limit had long been set.

As for nourishing the five viscera, he had only barely mastered their balance so far.

Yang Shuo, standing between them, sneered. "Hmph, maybe he used a Qi-Concealing Art before and hid his blood qi. Maybe he had already been Fifth Grade for a long time."

"Among the three of us, Wu Yuan, you have the greatest talent for martial arts. Tell me, how many chances would you need to be confident in comprehending a lost martial skill?"

Wu Yuan thought for a moment before answering, "To comprehend a complete existing martial arts technique and reach the third realm of perfect mastery, three attempts would be enough."

"But for a lost technique, even if it is also a saber technique, I wouldn't be confident within ten attempts."

Hearing that, Yang Shuo shrugged, spread his hands, and smiled. "There you have it. No matter how talented he is, he can't be ten times more talented than you."

Seeing Wu Yuan remain silent and merely shake his head, Yang Shuo was somewhat puzzled.

What?

Could it be that he was wrong?

Shen Chong, standing nearby, said helplessly, "You really don't remember a single thing they taught in martial hall."

Faced with Shen Chong's jab, Yang Shuo laughed. "With you two here, does it matter whether I remember or not? Hurry up and explain."

"If one wishes to go far on the martial path, talent and natural constitution are both indispensable. But that is only the foundation. At best, it lets you overpower others with brute force. Talent in martial skills is what reflects combat strength."

Shen Chong thought for a moment and continued, "In other words, a person's comprehension of martial arts has nothing to do with their innate talent or natural constitution.

"Talent corresponds to the absorption and conversion of blood qi."

"Natural constitution corresponds to the efficiency of developing one's physical body."

"Martial skill talent corresponds to comprehension and aptitude."

After hearing Shen Chong's words, Yang Shuo fell into thought.

He had also been in the viewing stands on the day of the Qing Prefecture Martial Examination. Zhou Ming had not displayed any martial arts attainment, so he was curious how Wu Yuan and Shen Chong had determined that Zhou Ming's talent in martial skills was also exceptionally high.

He immediately asked, "How are you so sure that his talent in martial skills is extraordinary?"

A sharp glint flashed through Wu Yuan's eyes as he said, "Neither Shen Chong nor I could react to the slap he gave you."

Yang Shuo's face fell. He said irritably, "So it was his movement technique. I was wondering why you two just stood there and watched me get slapped."

Time slowly passed.

The restlessness in the hearts of the Martial Artists throughout the area gradually subsided.

"Everyone, ascend the Martial Dao Stele!"

Principal Zhao Xuchu's deep, powerful voice rang out.

Then, the twelve people including him activated their blood qi one after another, forming seals with their hands and sending them into the Martial Dao Stele.

As the seals entered it, the entire Martial Dao Stele began to emit strands of light until it shone brilliantly.

"Within the Martial Dao Stele, strength is not considered. Only martial talent matters. Anyone may choose any martial arts technique, true intent, or inheritance. You may even choose a martial divine power."

"However, the Martial Dao Stele will independently give you the choice best suited to you."

"Please remember: choose only what is right for you. Otherwise, you will ultimately gain nothing."

After Zhao Xuchu's words fell, a beam of golden light instantly burst from the stele.

It enveloped every Martial Artist climbing upon it.

In an instant, all the Martial Artists stood motionless, their consciousness drawn into the Martial Dao Stele.

The moment his consciousness was pulled in, Zhou Ming completely let himself go.

He shouted, "War God divine powers, here I come!"

To be honest, he knew absolutely nothing about the Martial Dao Stele.

The only public information he had was what everyone had discussed after entering the Imperial City Martial Academy.

But martial true intent was easy enough to understand—it was personal insight.

And obtaining martial true intent meant obtaining someone else's insight.

Yet Zhou Ming's goal on this trip was not true intent. As he had said, it was divine powers!

As his consciousness was drawn away.

Zhou Ming appeared within a white, square space.

"At the peak of martial dao lies the Supreme Realm and Transcendence. Break falsehood and seek truth."

"Among martial arts techniques, inheritances, and true intent, my will shall choose that which suits you best. You may also make your own choice."

An aged voice rang out within the space.

Without the slightest hesitation, Zhou Ming said bluntly, "War God divine powers. I want to comprehend War God divine powers!"

"Thirty-six divine powers detected. Only seven remain available. Divine powers are divided into martial arts technique divine powers and physique divine powers. Please choose."

Zhou Ming looked around the tiny space and asked in confusion, "Can't I choose them all?"

"..."

After receiving no answer for a long while, Zhou Ming continued asking, "What divine powers are they exactly? Can you tell me?"

"..."

"Are you a person, or some kind of thing?"

"..."

A moment later, Zhou Ming muttered under his breath, "What kind of thing is this?"

The moment his words fell.

The white space flickered.

Zhou Ming froze.

"Say something!"

"Why aren't you speaking?"

"Are you naturally shy? Do you not like talking?"

In an instant, the white space began to glitch.

"Based on the divine power Immaculate Body that you possess, a martial arts technique divine power shall be selected for you."

"To comprehend a divine power, you must undergo a battle reenactment of martial arts techniques, as well as a trial of the heart and a test of will."

"Enlightenment shall begin in three breaths!"

The scene flashed.

Zhou Ming found himself atop a mountain pass.

A stream of information surged into his mind.

Vast Sea Calendar, year 145 of Ganwu.

Heaven's Lament Pass.

Behind the towering mountain pass lay the countless lights of the homes throughout the Ganwu Dynasty.

Beyond the pass, a horde of exotic beasts surged toward the city walls like a tidal wave.

Zhou Ming stood atop the three-hundred-meter-high pass, gazing out at the battlefield on the front lines.

Soldiers wielding all manner of weapons fought bravely upon the front lines.

Facing the tide of charging exotic beasts, not a single one retreated. All fought with their lives on the line.

"General, the task of repelling one hundred waves of exotic beasts has been completed. Of the million troops of our Ganwu Dynasty, only one hundred and eight remain."

A soldier whose armor still dripped with blood rushed onto the city wall.

He looked at the man standing atop the pass, unmoving as a mountain, and felt a stabbing pain in his heart.

The man stood atop the pass, gripping a long staff covered from end to end in carved patterns.

In a hoarse voice, he asked, "Have all the civilians behind us evacuated beyond the border?"

The soldier remained silent.

Without receiving an answer, the man looked toward the battlefield and said calmly, "It seems they still need a little more time. You should withdraw. I alone am enough on the front lines. You are needed more in the rear."

"General, withdraw. The brothers on the front lines can hold on."

The man raised his hand and spun the staff in a flourish. He laughed hoarsely. "I'm not leaving. I want to see the brothers sleeping ahead of us for ten years one more time."

The soldier's entire body trembled. He seemed to want to say something to persuade him, but after opening his mouth, he remained wordless for a long time.

At last, he bowed slightly, accepted the order, and departed.

Not long afterward.

At Heaven's Lament Pass, three hundred meters high and so wide that its end could not be seen, only Zhou Ming remained.

He stood atop the pass and watched the man leave.

Alone, twirling his staff, the man slowly walked toward the front lines.