Secret Realm Seclusion, Digesting Gains

The wind stopped, and the valley was so quiet that only the sound of breathing could be heard.

I sat on the bluestone platform, my hands still resting on my knees, my fingertips slightly numb. That battle just now had taken too much out of me. My meridians felt like they had been ground by sand and gravel; every tiny movement of spiritual power sent a searing pain through them. The mark on my brow hadn't calmed down either, heating up intermittently as if something was gently knocking from within.

I can't wait.

I took three Spirit Replenishing Pills from my storage bag and swallowed them directly. As the medicinal power spread, my chest felt constricted. The spiritual energy swirled in my Dantian, unable to flow smoothly. I held my breath, suppressing the surging Blood Essence, and focused my attention inward.

Nothing can go wrong around me.

I brought up the System interface and opened the points section. I still had quite a few points left from my previous quiz, which I could use now. [Consume 500 points to activate "Silent Spirit World-Protecting Talisman"?] When the prompt appeared, I didn't hesitate and clicked confirm.

Four streaks of yellow light emerged from the void and landed on the four corners of the bluestone platform. The lights connected, forming a thin, transparent barrier that enclosed me. The wind outside couldn't blow in, and the leaves no longer rustled.

It worked.

I let out a sigh of relief and leaned back against the warm body behind me. It was a spirit beast. It lay behind me, its back pressed against my Daoist Robe, a warmth seeping through my skin and slowly soothing my meridians. I didn't need to look back to know what it was doing—it was using its own aura to help me stabilize my spiritual power.

This ability awakened during the fight with the Guardian Beast.

I closed my eyes and began to regulate my breathing. The vortex in my Dantian was still there, but it was spinning slowly, like a wheel with grit stuck in it. I tried to push it to rotate in reverse, guiding the residual spiritual energy from my limbs back according to the first section of the Nine Revolutions Profound Origin Art.

No reaction.

The jade scroll lay open on my lap, its characters clear, but the incantations seemed to float on the paper, unable to enter my mind. "Star Chart Returns to Position," "Three Qi Return to Origin"—I knew these words, but when it came to applying them to myself, something felt wrong.

As I was thinking, a question suddenly popped into my mind: [For the method of "Primal Qi Returns to Origin," what should be used as a guide to lead the convergence of clear and turbid energies?]

Three options appeared.

I recalled the knowledge I had learned during previous quizzes and remembered something Hong Yun had said—for cultivators, the heart fire is the guide, and the divine sense is the bridge. The key isn't the strength of the power, but the clarity of one's thoughts.

I chose the second option: "using the heart and mind as a guide."

The moment the answer was set, the jade scroll lit up. A golden pattern rose from the pages and unfolded above my head into a small star chart, its stars arranged in a ring, slowly rotating.

I had a direction.

Following the star chart, I sank my spiritual sense into my Dantian, adjusting the rhythm of the vortex bit by bit. This time, the spiritual energy in my meridians finally began to respond, drawing back from the tips of my hands and feet like a tide receding towards the ocean's heart. It gathered more and more, and the pressure increased, causing a dull ache in the gaps of my bones, as if they were about to split.

I gritted my teeth and endured.

When the last wisp of scattered spirit returned, my Dantian gave a violent tremor. The vortex completed its first full cycle.

It worked.

Cold sweat had soaked my Daoist Robe. I took a few breaths and felt something different within me. The spiritual power before was scattered; now it was more condensed and flowed more smoothly. Although it was a small change, I knew that I had truly entered the first revolution.

The text on the jade scroll brightened further, and the second section of the incantation appeared: "Condense Origin into True Form, requires borrowing the opportunity of a single thread between heaven and earth."

Before I could examine it closely, my brow suddenly burned.

The "Flowing Abyss" mark stirred again.

This time, it wasn't restless, but as if awakened by something, it twitched lightly a few times. I tried to touch it with my spiritual sense, but there was still no response; the barrier, like a seal, remained.

I remembered the three questions I asked when drawing the sword in the secret realm.

Why do I cultivate the Dao?

To protect what I must protect.

If I gained power, would I bully the weak?

No.

If the heavens and earth did not tolerate me, would I still walk this path?

As long as the Dao is in my heart, I will not change.

I closed my eyes and repeated these words in my mind, not missing a single one.

The moment I finished speaking, a surge of heat exploded from my brow.

It wasn't pain, but a feeling of connection, rushing from my forehead straight to the back of my head. Immediately, a voice appeared in my Sea of Consciousness—not heard by my ears, but a sword's hum that sounded directly in my mind, short, ancient, carrying the scent of iron and fire.

A System notification immediately popped up: [Detected the initial awakening of the sword spirit. Fusion permission can only be unlocked after passing the third trial of the "Nine Questions of the Heavenly Dao."]

The question followed: [In the Primordial Laws, what is the cause of the power of "backlash"?]

I was stunned for a moment.

Backlash... it wasn't because of misusing a cultivation technique, nor was it an enemy's counterattack. I had encountered this concept when answering questions before, during discussions about "obsession" and the "balance of the Heavenly Dao."

If a person forcefully goes against the heavens, it's not divine punishment; you yourself have deviated from the rhythm of nature. The greater the power, the further you stray, and eventually, you will be dragged down by your own obsession.

It's like a drawn bow that is never released; the string will break.

I typed my answer: "It originates from excessive obsession, deviating from the balance of nature."

The moment I pressed the confirm button, my brow vibrated three times.

The "Flowing Abyss" mark was no longer burning hot, but had become warm and smooth, like a piece of warm jade nestled beneath my skin. I could feel it responding to me, though not yet completely, it was no longer inanimate.

I tried to call out to it.

A faint light emanated from my brow, flashing and disappearing. At the same time, intermittent fluctuations echoed from the depths of my Sea of Consciousness, like some kind of language I couldn't understand, but could sense its meaning—it was probing me, confirming whether I was the one who could wield the sword to the end.

I remained seated, my eyes closed.

The second revolution has begun. This time, I intend to master "Condense Origin into True Form." The new incantation from the Jade Scroll turns in my mind, guiding my spiritual power through my meridians, synchronized with the star chart. Its flow is faster than before, impurities being squeezed out bit by bit and left at my joints, to be expelled later when I circulate my energy again.

The spirit beast hasn't moved. Its body temperature remains pressed against mine. The tips of its horns still hold traces of golden threads, remnants of the potential it unleashed during battle, which haven't dissipated yet. It too is recovering and growing.

Time trickles by.

The sun moves from overhead to the west. The valley remains quiet; the wind has ceased, and no birds sing. The entire world seems to be on pause, with only me and this protective barrier still in motion.

As the spiritual power within me completes the initial cycle of the second revolution, I feel a new kind of sensitivity. It's not improved eyesight or hearing, but an awareness of changes in the surrounding airflow. Even the fall of a single leaf can be detected half a breath in advance, its trajectory foreseen.

This is a gift from "Flowing Abyss."

The sword hasn't fully recognized me as its master yet, but it's already beginning to influence my perception.

I reach up and touch my brow.

The mark is still there, warm, as if asleep. But at this very moment, it suddenly gives a faint twitch.

It's not a response to me.

It's a warning.

My heart tightens.

Outside the barrier, somewhere, there's an extremely faint disturbance. Not footsteps, nor breathing, but a ripple in the air, like someone is watching from afar, deliberately concealing themselves.

Without revealing my awareness, I continue to close my eyes, pretending to still be cultivating.

The spirit beast's ears twitch slightly, but it doesn't lift its head. It merely presses its body lower, its tail subtly sweeping the ground as it assumes a defensive stance.

I know it has detected it too.

Neither of us moves.

But I know that person—or that thing—is still there.

I slowly sink a thread of my spiritual sense into the System interface.

[Generate hidden detection-type question?]

[Currently available: Beginner Heavenly Secrets Sensing Test]

I select "Confirm."

The question appears: [When sensing a hidden aura, what is the optimal spiritual sense release frequency?]

I stare at the options, my finger lightly tapping my knee.

I choose the third option.

Correct.

The System rewards me with a brief period of vision penetration.

I seize the opportunity to scan the bushes to the left of the barrier.

Beneath the shadows of the trees, the outline of a rock seems… off.

Too regular, not naturally formed.

And… its surface is absorbing sunlight at an incredibly slow rate.

It's not a rock.

It's some kind of disguised magic item, or perhaps a living being in disguise.

I withdraw my spiritual sense, my heart rate steady.

I cannot move now.

My cultivation is incomplete, the sword not yet merged with me. If I interrupt now, all my efforts will be in vain.

I continue circulating the cultivation technique, the cycle of the second revolution restarting.

Spiritual power compresses deep within my Dantian, becoming denser and denser.

The mark on my brow pulses gently with the rhythm, as if breathing in sync with me.

Outside the barrier, that "rock" moves.

Extremely subtly, almost imperceptibly.

But the direction of its movement is directly towards the bluestone platform.