The wind died down, and the valley grew so quiet that only breathing remained.
I sat on the bluestone platform, one hand still resting on my knee, my fingertips slightly numb. The battle just now had drained too much from me. My meridians felt as though they had been ground by sand and gravel; even moving a thread of spiritual power pulled at the pain. The mark between my brows had not settled either, heating up in waves as if something inside were lightly knocking.
I could not wait.
I fished three Spirit Replenishing Pills from my storage pouch and swallowed them straight down. The moment the medicinal power spread, my chest tightened. Spiritual energy made a turn in my dantian but failed to circulate smoothly. I held my breath, suppressed my surging blood and qi, and focused inward.
Nothing could go wrong around me.
I summoned the system interface and opened the points tab. I still had quite a few points left from the previous questions, just enough to use now. A prompt appeared:
[Consume five hundred points to activate the "Silent Spirit World-Protecting Talisman"?]
I did not hesitate and pressed confirm.
Four streaks of yellow light emerged from the void and landed on the four corners of the bluestone platform. The light connected into a line, forming a thin, transparent barrier around me. The wind outside could no longer blow in, and the leaves stopped rustling.
It worked.
I let out a breath and leaned against the warm body behind me. It was the spirit beast. It lay behind me with its back pressed to my daoist robe, warmth seeping through my skin and slowly soothing my meridians. I did not need to turn around to know what it was doing—it could now use its own aura to help stabilize my spiritual power.
It had awakened this ability during the battle with the guardian beast.
I closed my eyes and began regulating my breathing. The vortex in my dantian was still there, but it turned slowly, like a wheel jammed with grit. I tried to push it into reverse, guiding the residual spiritual energy in my limbs back according to the first section of the Nine Revolutions Profound Origin Art.
Nothing happened.
The jade manual lay open across my lap, its writing clear, yet the incantations seemed to float on the page and would not enter my mind. "Star Chart Returns to Position," "Three Qi Return to Origin"—I knew these terms, but when it came to applying them to myself, something felt wrong.
As I pondered this, a question suddenly appeared in my mind:
[For the method of "Primal Qi Returns to Origin," what must serve as the guide to lead the clear and turbid energies together?]
Three options appeared.
I recalled the knowledge I had learned from previous questions, then remembered something Hongyun had once said—cultivators used heartfire as the guide and divine sense as the bridge. The key was not how great one's power was, but whether one's thoughts were clear.
I chose the second option: "The mind and spirit as the guide."
The moment the answer was confirmed, the jade manual flashed. A golden pattern rose from the pages and unfolded above my head into a small star chart. The stars formed a ring and slowly revolved.
Now I had a direction.
Following the star chart's guidance, I sank my spiritual sense into my dantian and adjusted the vortex's rhythm bit by bit. This time, the spiritual energy in my meridians finally responded, drawing back from my hands and feet like a retreating tide returning to the heart of the sea. More and more gathered, and the pressure grew heavier. A swelling pain came from the gaps between my bones, as if they were about to split apart.
I gritted my teeth and endured.
When the last stray thread of spiritual energy returned, my dantian suddenly shuddered. The vortex completed its first full cycle.
It worked.
Cold sweat had already soaked through my daoist robe. I took two breaths and felt something different inside me. My spiritual power had previously been scattered, but now it had condensed somewhat and flowed more smoothly. It was only a slight change, but I knew that the first revolution had truly entered its initial stage.
More text on the jade manual lit up, and the incantation for the second section emerged: "To Condense Origin into True Form, one must borrow the fleeting opportunity between Heaven and Earth."
Before I could examine it closely, the mark between my brows suddenly burned.
Flowing Abyss's mark had stirred again.
This time, it was not restless. It was as though something had awakened it, and it gave a few faint pulses. I tried touching it with my spiritual sense, but there was still no response. That barrier resembling a seal remained.
I remembered the three questions I had faced when drawing my sword in the secret realm.
Why did I cultivate the Dao?
To protect what I had to protect.
If I gained power, would I bully the weak?
No.
If Heaven and Earth would not tolerate me, would I still walk this path?
As long as the Dao remained in my heart, I would never change.
I closed my eyes and repeated those words in my heart, not missing a single one.
The instant the words ended, a torrent of heat burst from between my brows.
It was not pain, but a feeling of being opened through, rushing from my forehead straight to the back of my head. Then a sound appeared in my sea of consciousness—not something heard by my ears, but the ring of a sword directly within my mind. It was brief and ancient, carrying the scent of iron and fire.
A system prompt immediately appeared:
[An initial awakening of the sword spirit has been detected. Fusion authorization can only be unlocked after passing the third stage of the "Nine Questions of the Heavenly Dao."]
The question followed:
[Under the Primordial Laws, what causes the power of "backlash"?]
I froze for a moment.
Backlash... it was not caused by using the wrong cultivation art, nor was it an enemy's counterattack. I had encountered this concept in previous questions, when "obsession" and the balance of the Heavenly Dao had been discussed.
When people forcibly defied Heaven, it was not Heaven punishing them. They themselves had strayed from nature's rhythm. The greater their power, the farther they deviated, until their own obsessions dragged them down.
Like a bow drawn to its limit—if it was never released, the string would snap.
I entered my answer: "It arises from excessive obsession and straying from nature's balance."
The moment I pressed confirm, the mark between my brows trembled three times.
Flowing Abyss's mark was no longer scorching. Instead, it became warm and gentle, like a piece of warm jade beneath my skin. I could feel it responding to me. Though it was still incomplete, it was no longer a dead thing.
I tried calling to it.
A faint light shone from between my brows, vanishing in an instant. At the same time, intermittent ripples came from deep within my sea of consciousness, like some kind of language. I could not understand it, but I could sense its meaning—it was testing me, confirming whether I was someone who could wield the sword to the very end.
I remained seated and did not open my eyes.
The second revolution had already begun. This time, I would see Condense Origin into True Form through to the end. The new incantation from the jade manual turned over in my mind. Guided by the star chart, spiritual power flowed through my meridians once more. It was faster than before, and impurities were squeezed out bit by bit, lingering around my joints to be expelled the next time I circulated my cultivation art.
The spirit beast had not moved the entire time, its body heat pressed against me. Golden lines still remained at the tips of its horns, the potential awakened during battle that had yet to fade. It was recovering too. It was growing too.
Time passed little by little.
The sun moved overhead, then slowly tilted westward. The valley remained silent. The wind did not rise again, and no birds called. The entire world seemed to have been paused, with only me and this barrier still in motion.
When the spiritual power within me completed the initial cycle of the second revolution, I felt a new sharpness. It was not improved vision, nor heightened hearing, but an awareness of changes in the surrounding air currents. Even if a leaf fell, I could sense its path half a breath in advance.
This was what Flowing Abyss had brought me.
The sword had not fully acknowledged me as its master, but it had already begun affecting my senses.
I raised a hand and touched the mark between my brows.
The mark was still there, warm, as though asleep. Yet in that instant, it suddenly gave a faint pulse.
It was not responding to me.
It was on alert.
My heart tightened.
Outside the barrier, somewhere, there was an extremely faint disturbance. It was not footsteps, nor breathing, but a disruption of aura, as though someone were watching from afar while deliberately concealing themselves.
I remained expressionless and kept my eyes closed, pretending I was still cultivating.
The spirit beast's ears twitched slightly as well, but it did not raise its head. It merely lowered its body further, its tail quietly sweeping across the ground as it assumed a defensive posture.
I knew it had noticed.
Neither of us moved.
But I knew that person—or that thing—was still there.
I slowly sent a thread of spiritual sense into the system interface.
[Generate a stealth-detection question?] [Currently available: Beginner Heavenly Secrets Sensing Test]
I pressed confirm.
The question appeared:
[When sensing a concealed aura, what is the optimal frequency for releasing spiritual sense?]
I stared at the options and lightly traced a line across my knee with my finger.
I chose the third option.
Correct.
The system rewarded me with a brief period of penetrating vision.
Taking advantage of it, I swept my gaze over the bushes to the left of the barrier.
Beneath the shadows of the trees, the outline of a stone looked wrong.
It was too regular, unlike anything naturally formed.
And... its surface was absorbing sunlight at an extremely slow pace.
It was not a stone.
It was some kind of disguised artifact, or a living creature that had transformed itself.
I withdrew my spiritual sense, my heartbeat unchanged.
I could not move yet.
My cultivation was unfinished, and the sword had not fused with me. If I interrupted now, all my previous effort would be wasted.
I continued circulating my cultivation art, and the cycle of the second revolution began once more.
Spiritual power compressed deep within my dantian, growing denser and denser.
The mark between my brows pulsed gently with the rhythm, as though it were breathing alongside me.
Outside the barrier, that "stone" moved.
It was extremely slight, almost impossible to detect.
But it moved directly toward the bluestone platform.
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