In the central district of Qingzhou City stands the Spirit Pagoda, its body wrapped in divine radiance. Rivers of energy cascade from it, thundering through the air and exuding surging life force in a spectacular display.
This nine-story pagoda, sacred and solemn, has long absorbed the essence of heaven and earth, growing increasingly fearsome. It has even birthed runes—mysterious dao runes of profound complexity.
Some powerful cultivators sit cross-legged in the void, meditating on these runes to great benefit.
"These runes grow more enigmatic by the day; fathoming them fully is daunting. Mastering them would surely yield a terrifying divine ability," an elder murmurs in the void, his voice making the air tremble.
"These runes can be comprehended?" Daoling startles upon arriving at the Spirit Pagoda. Eyeing the golden runes, he feels a surge of excitement—he lacks divine abilities, and here lies a ready-made opportunity.
During the trial, he'd witnessed firsthand the power of divine abilities and nearly suffered for his lack. He urgently desires to master such formidable martial arts.
Others around the pagoda sigh; the golden runes are too abstruse for all but the mightiest to understand.
A voice in the void responds, "Indeed. This pagoda's origins are too mysterious. I fear one day it might awaken and flee!"
"I share that预感 (premonition). It grows more extraordinary by the day. Claiming it would mean possessing a supreme treasure."
Phantom shadows flicker in the void, their forms outlined by golden runes and radiating terrifying waves. Many ancient powerhouses lament that even their profound cultivation can't breach the pagoda's ninth floor. It's speculated that only reaching the tenth floor—unattained since ancient times—could allow one to claim the pagoda.
Daoling studies the golden runes, envisioning a vast golden sea composed of intricate runes. They ebb and flow, condensing and dispersing, simplifying and complicating, evolving a dao before his eyes.
Deep in thought, he stands for a long while before turning toward the Small Martial Dao Stele.
Near the stele, crowds gaze up at the inscribed names, though many younger cultivators dare not look too long. The higher the name, the more fearsome its aura, like golden suns ablaze. Elders warn the youth that these names represent glory, urging them to strive for the stele's recognition.
"I wonder what treasure the Little Imperial Princess obtained from the stele," someone sighs, envying the artifact Qian Yao found there.
Daoling approaches, clad in white, black hair flowing. He looks up, fixing his gaze on the first name.
Heaven and earth rumble as chaos manifests and dao runes emerge. Lightning flashes, massive bolts tearing the sky as if splitting the primal world. A shadow parts the chaos, stepping forth with earth-shattering aura. Its true form is indistinct, like a celestial god surveying the vast land, its presence terrifying.
Daoling's body trembles under the oppressive might, yet unlike days past, he meets the shadow's gaze. Golden blood energy roars within him, his body glowing with divine radiance. His hair flutters, eyes shining with godlike light. The shadow's aura feels familiar, though he can't recall where he's sensed it.
His flesh emits golden light, every muscle seeming to awaken mysterious energy to suppress the shadow's might, yet the awakening proves difficult.
"Have I seen him somewhere before?" Daoling murmurs, frowning.
This remark stuns the crowd. A youth bursts into laughter: "He claims to have seen the Martial Emperor? Ridiculous! The Martial Emperor is the number one prodigy of the Mystic Domain's younger generation, who's only visited Qingzhou once. He rarely emerges from seclusion in his clan!"
"Is this lad mad? Longing to behold the Martial Emperor has addled his wits. Only天之骄子 (heaven's favored) or outstanding saintesses of各族 (clans) are worthy to see his true form."
Most speakers are youths, their awe for the Martial Emperor evident—they would bow at his presence.
Daoling shakes his head at their mocking stares and leaves. *Tempering my body to its peak is the priority. Only then can I thrive on this cultivation path*.
"Young Master, he's here. This brat dares to venerate the Martial Emperor's true form—utterly reckless," a giant youth sneers from the crowd. He knows Wu Penghai is distantly related to the Martial Emperor; even he can't meet the emperor, let alone a nobody.
"Hmph, does he think he's worthy?" Wu Penghai scoffs, then turns to a valiant-looking youth beside him, fawning: "Cousin, this is the one who stole my treasure. He's bold indeed, defying our Martial Hall."
This is Wu Hongsheng, flanked by two fearsome beings who revere him—for he has met the Martial Emperor. Even Wu Penghai lacks this honor, a testament to the prestige of meeting the emperor and Wu Hongsheng's might.
Wu Hongsheng, with sword-like eyebrows, says flatly: "I'm free now. I'll take his life for you. Let's go." His tone is nonchalant, even arrogant, but he has the right—he's a core member of the Martial Hall, destined to become a regional overlord.
Wu Penghai beams, eager for revenge, and leads Wu Hongsheng toward the Spirit Pagoda.
The pagoda's first floor teems with people, but life force is scarce, spread too thin.
Daoling reaches the fifth floor, absorbing life force while pondering the runes. He finds them mysterious; imitating them could yield great offensive power.
Mustering focus, he wills his palm to tremble, summoning a golden energy that splits into countless threads, squirming in the air to form a dim golden rune.
"These runes are indeed marvelous. Strengthening their charm daily is like cultivating a divine ability," Daoling thinks, thrilled to have manifested a rune.
Just then, he senses a shadowy gaze fixed on him, tinged with狰狞 (ferocious)杀意 (killing intent).
Frowning, he turns to see several figures approaching. A smile lights his face—perfect guinea pigs to test the runes' power.
Wu Penghai expects Daoling to cower, but the youth looks eager, even excited. *Is he not afraid?* His face sours.
"Hmph, still smiling when death is nigh?" the giant youth snarls. "Come forth and die!"
The shout startles cultivators from their meditation. They glare at the commotion but swallow their anger upon seeing the newcomers.
"It's from the Martial Hall!" someone gasps.
The Martial Hall is a colossus of the Mystic Domain, rarely challenged. With the Martial Emperor's rise, its status has soared.
"This lad is doomed. How did he offend the Martial Hall? Their influence spans the Mystic Domain—none who cross them survive."
"True. The Martial Hall is ancient and powerful; even descendants of ancient divine mountains and sects dare not provoke them lightly."
These whispers fuel Wu Penghai's arrogance. "Lad, you robbed the Martial Hall out of ignorance—now you die."
"Defeated dog, less chatter. Fight if you dare; my time is precious," Daoling retorts nonchalantly.
"Court death!" Wu Hongsheng strides forward, eyes cold. "Kill him. I have matters to attend—waste no time on this corpse."
"Yes, Young Master." Two beings beside him step forward, stunning the crowd. As a core Martial Hall member, Wu Hongsheng commands powerful attendants, confirming his exalted status.
Daoling's palm swirls, manifesting runes that flicker in the air, trailed by arcs of light.
"Roar!" The two beings thunder, shattering rocks and kicking up dust as they charge to decapitate Daoling.
Daoling sweeps them with his gaze, tracing patterns in the air. Runes materialize overhead, each weighing ten thousand jin, crashing down like boulders.
"What? He wields rune-based divine ability—a formidable attack!" someone cries, studying the runes.
"Trifles! Break them!" A fiery being roars, smashing the runes with an arm that can shatter巨石 (giant rocks).
A silver-clad being strikes next, palm radiating silver ripples.
Daoling's eyes flash. He merges runes with his flesh, golden symbols appearing on his skin as he clashes with the silver palm.
"Boom!" The collision rings like crashing mountains, deafening all. Golden runes glow brilliantly, each indestructible. Daoling's blow, weighted by ten-thousand-jin runes, shatters the silver being's palm.
In an instant, the other being pounces. Daoling's right leg lashes out, whip-like shadows interwoven with golden runes. The strike smashes through the being's defensive aura, caving in its chest and sending runes surging into its body.
The ten-thousand-jin runes rupture its internal organs, killing it instantly.