Chapter 943: Chapter 126: Vajra Prajna, Universal Salvation of All Beings (Double-Length)
The old woman was dazed for dozens, or perhaps hundreds, of heartbeats before she snapped back from the terrifying mont. Ignoring the bloodstains, her gaze fell upon the Divine Weapon in her hands, and her expression changed dramatically—
The Divine Weapon, once brimming with spiritual energy, now appeared bleak and dull. The Qilin Instrunt Spirit was still present but languid, and as she probed with her Inner Qi, it circulated once within, revealing an emptiness.
The Divine Weapon Qilin, placed in the spiritual land for years without use, had its accumulated spiritual essence dissipated in an instant, leaving only twenty or thirty percent remaining.
The old woman felt a pang in her heart, her body swaying slightly, nearly collapsing to the ground, her face already pale, lips trembling slightly before she couldn’t help but cry out:
“No!!!”
………
A drop of water fell on the table.
Then it was touched by a finger, the transparent liquid rotating in the air, transforming into an ancient character before disintegrating into the void, adding a slight stain to the already wet wooden table.
“…Failed again.”
Wang Anfeng stared at the disintegrating, formless water droplet. Before the thought even settled in his mind, his right hand was already lifted, lightly tapping the cup, yet this ti no droplets vibrated up. His finger remained in the air for a few beats, and only after failing to feel the familiar dampness did he finally co back to his senses.
“Used up, huh?”
Wang Anfeng glanced at the now-dry cup, relaxed, leaned back into the chair, and rubbed his forehead, feeling a wave of fatigue erging from deep within.
Still didn’t succeed.
Lately, he had gone through that mystical to from the Dongfang Clan, which included advanced mystical arts like altering Stellar Luck and reversing the wind’s direction; all of which disinterested him. His focus was only on so mystical arts that didn’t require rituals.
After all, those advanced mystical arts, while potent, often required building altars, praying to the heavens, or connecting with the Earth’s Vein, entailing complexities involving the Zhou Tian Constellation, Earth Vein circulation, and worldly fortune, encompassing everything.
The intricacies were such that rely calculating the factors was beyond the average person. Even a slight ntion in the to made his scalp tingle with fear and induced a desire to maintain distance, losing all interest in continuing to read.
Yet unfortunately, during this period, he had not even mastered the most basic mystical arts.
It’s not that he couldn’t sense the spiritual energy of all things. His mother was once the most outstanding mber of the Dongfang Clan, and his natural talents were evidently not lacking. He sensed the spiritual energy by the second day, considered promising even within the to’s records.
However, after sensing it, problems arose while channeling the energy. The Qi chanism communicated with the Hundred ridians, with a path full of killing intent.
The spiritual energy, barely mobilized, was imdiately scattered by this killing intent before he could control it, leaving nothing behind, subsequently being swept up by the Qi chanism and transford into a common origin.
He had tried countless tis over the past few days, failing every single ti. Were it not for the fact that practicing the heart thod from the book allowed him to sense the spiritual energy of Heaven and Earth, he would have almost believed the book was a counterfeit trick by Dongfang Ningxin.
However, this explained why, despite the diverse uses of mystical arts, the Dongfang Clan would divide into two branches, one practicing martial arts and the other mystical arts.
Simply put, if one hasn’t achieved any significant level, martial artists entering the Middle Third Rank communicate with Heaven and Earth, embodying vast Qi chanism, which, if mystical arts cultivation were diocre, would be shattered instantly, making it difficult to gather again, akin to having wealth without a ans to access it.
Conversely, if mystical arts cultivation reached a point where Heavenly Secrets could be invoked, the internal Qi chanism would also struggle to persist, no matter how diligently cultivated, unable to break through Longn and ascend the Middle Third Rank.
After all, martial arts and mystical arts utilize the spiritual energy of Heaven and Earth differently. One focuses on mobilizing, akin to an ocean flowing into a river, emphasizing ‘flow,’ alive through its flow. The other focuses on Breathing Techniques, embracing Heaven and Earth, emphasizing ‘containnt.’
The two paths inherently diverge. Cultivators of martial arts borrowing Heavenly Secrets would be overwheld and swallowed by their internal Qi chanism in monts, while exclusive practitioners of mystical arts, though initially capable of sensing the Heavenly Secrets Charm, would find it impossible to retain even a trace internally. No sooner would they succeed than it would dissipate, aspiring to master both was nothing more than wishful thinking.
Wang Anfeng glanced at the to on the table, a hint of helplessness on his face, initially planning to seize the brief monts when he could sense the spiritual energy without it being swept away by his Qi chanism. Unfortunately, he never succeeded.
After several consecutive days of this, at this point, he felt dizzy and fatigued, the stubbornness slightly waning, and he had to admit that he feared he couldn’t even grasp the basic mystical arts.
Yet, rationally acknowledging this, he still couldn’t let go internally. When he first began dabbling in mystical arts, he initially thought he should focus on martial arts, rely reading casually about mystical arts. Now, unable to even enter the basics, he refused to relax.
Even when Dongfang Ximing called him to dinner, his right hand held the chopsticks while his left hand continued to drop, sketching without effect, much like fraudulent talisman drawings.
His enchanted, absent-minded state certainly couldn’t escape others’ eyes. Li Qidao glanced at him peculiarly, knowing he was trying the Dongfang Clan’s mystical arts. Those were family-inherited skills, and even he knew little about them.
Anyway, those mystical arts were all so slow in cultivation; how many could withstand a single sword stroke from him that shakes mountains?
The old man drank wine, thinking indifferently.
While Li Qidao was unconcerned, Dongfang Ximing was the second to notice Wang Anfeng’s peculiarity. It wasn’t that her acuity surpassed Xue Qinshuang, Gong Yu, or others; it’s just that, after all, the latter were all won, and it was impossible to constantly watch Wang Anfeng.
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