Even a colossal top-tier sect like the Wangliang Sect possessed only a scant few introductory cultivation methods for Soul Cultivators, and even those were treasured beyond measure.
They would never be passed on to any disciple below the nascent soul stage. Even cultivators at the nascent soul stage or above had to pay an enormous price merely to study them—a price that, it was said, only old monsters at the spirit transformation stage could afford.
Cultivation methods for divine sense, the arts of Soul Cultivators, were so rare in this world that they had all but vanished. Whenever one appeared, it sparked a boundless struggle, stirring up blood-soaked rain and winds reeking of slaughter across the heavens.
These were treasures everyone dreamed of possessing. Even nascent soul and spirit transformation cultivators would strike without hesitation for them.
Yet Soul Cultivators were not invincible. Their greatest weakness lay in the peculiar nature of their cultivation methods: they needed prolonged meditation to continually strengthen their souls.
For that very reason, their bodies were much frailer than those of other cultivators at the same level. Once an opponent closed in, their chances of dying far exceeded those of other kinds of cultivators.
Earlier, Li Yan had avoided grievous injury to his soul partly because his divine sense was powerful and partly because he had taken precautions beforehand. The moment he sensed something amiss, he stopped instead of continuing toward the sky above.
Even so, the pain had been so terrible that he wished he were dead.
Now he wanted to try using the broken clay pot to teleport back, but his attempt failed.
"Just what damned place is this?"
Li Yan could only put away the broken clay pot in disappointment. He looked up at the sky and cautiously extended his divine sense