Supreme Mastery
Li Miao gauged the spiritual energy within the stone sarcophagus, sensing no formation traps, and reached inside to retrieve the “broken blade.” The war sword, missing substantial pieces from both ends, felt weighty in his grip—at least a hundred pounds—and was cold to the touch, its material unknown. As soon as he grasped it, a faint spiritual feedback coursed through him, confirming it as a magical artifact.
A surge of delight rose within Li Miao; he channeled a strand of primal energy into the sword. Instantly, as if a dormant dragon awoke, the long-sealed divine weapon burst forth with vigorous vitality. An unparalleled sharpness erupted from the blade, echoing with a resonant dragon’s cry. From the fractured tip, two feet of blade light shot out, leaving a deep mark on the stone platform with a crisp sound. The sword light’s intensity surpassed that produced by his cold steel saber at full force by a considerable margin.
Li Miao’s eyes gleamed with joy. This was an excellent blade. Even damaged, it rivaled the mid-grade spiritual treasure, the Purple Jun Sword. In its prime, it must have been a “Calamity Treasure” war sword, transcending the level of spiritual treasures.
Rarer still, because the sword was broken and its artifact spirit had dispersed, it appeared nearly indistinguishable from ordinary iron, giving no hint of its true nature. Now, the sword retained only its peerless sharpness, devoid of any spiritual fluctuations or sentience—a perfect disguise, free from attracting covetous eyes, and he could use it without concern.
Indeed, its lack of spirit was why Li Miao had overlooked it at first. Otherwise, with its quality not inferior to a mid-grade spiritual treasure, its spiritual power would have radiated from afar.
Overflowing with delight, Li Miao bowed respectfully to the remains within the sarcophagus. “General Mohe, you have long departed this world. Leaving this treasured blade here would only let it gather dust forever. It’s better to let a junior wield it, allowing its edge to shine once more. Rest assured, I will only use it to subdue demons and evil, never to slaughter the innocent.”
A gentle hum echoed from the sword, as if it understood his intent—whether rejoicing at its return to the world, or mourning its separation from its master, he could not tell.
Li Miao stowed the war sword and continued to examine the sarcophagus. Besides the damaged sword and armor, there was a skeleton shaped like a warhorse. Its bones were smooth and lustrous as jade, clearly not from any ordinary beast—likely a spiritual or demonic creature of remarkable lineage.
According to the murals lining the tomb passage, this warhorse had accompanied General Mohe for many years and died heroically fighting a rhinoceros demon, living a life of steadfast loyalty.
Beside the warhorse’s remains lay a set of tack, somewhat corroded but still showing traces of its former excellence, previously consecrated but now devoid of spiritual light.
Beyond these, there was only the stone coffin—a modest nine feet in length, containing General Mohe’s remains. The murals revealed he was slain by a giant blue eagle with wings blotting out the sky, his skull shattered with nothing but the body remaining.
Thus, within the coffin rested a headless skeleton, only the portion below the neck. General Mohe’s bones shone even more brilliantly than the warhorse’s, crystalline and translucent like white jade, exuding not terror but a serene, transcendent aura, akin to the physical relics left behind by an enlightened immortal.
Alongside the general’s bones lay a token engraved with a flame motif.
“This token…” Li Miao’s gaze sharpened.
Every mural in the tomb depicted General Mohe with this flame token at his waist—clearly of great significance. Connecting it to the “Flame God Army” armory at the tomb’s entrance, he deduced, “It must be the general’s insignia of the Flame God Army.”
The stone coffin bore no formation traps either. Li Miao reached in and picked up the token. Unexpectedly, a hidden spell was triggered as he touched it.
A hum reverberated; spiritual energy pulsed, and a consciousness appeared in Li Miao’s mind.
He saw an aloof, hawk-nosed man traversing the void, arriving outside the stone gates of “General Mohe’s Tomb.” Standing before the gate, the man sneered, “Dead already, yet you make such a spectacle—what a joke.”
With a sweep of his hand, a whirlwind surged through the mountainside cave, unleashing a barrage of explosions and obliterating the formation lurking at the tomb’s entrance.
The man then kicked the stone gate, opening a gap two feet wide, allowing him passage.
Inside the tomb, he continually summoned fierce winds to dismantle the complex formations within the passage and chamber, turning the once formidable general’s tomb into a mere ordinary grave.
Within the chamber, five massive blocks of black ice sealed the corpses of five demon cultivators—dog, serpent, crab, bat, and rhinoceros—each resting upon a circular platform.
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The aloof man regarded the five blocks of black ice and the central sarcophagus atop the platform, laughing coldly. “Using five demon corpses to disperse my wind bane and let your body rest—clever, but you won’t have your way.”
With a single gesture, he severed the invisible link between the platforms, conjuring a new formation to replace the old one meant to resolve the wind bane.
“With this Nine Yin Refining Bane Formation, these five demon corpses can absorb your deathly yin energy and reforge their souls to be reborn. I wonder if the newly awakened White Rhino will still be as tempestuous, turning your tomb upside down.”
Having spoken, the man stepped onto the high platform. Lifting the stone slab covering the sarcophagus, he peered at the headless corpse inside, tutting, “Mohe, oh Mohe, you had peerless talent, but you followed the Flame King your whole life and gained nothing. I have only known Old Dog Senior for three hundred years and acquired three divine techniques. That’s the difference in choosing the right master.”
With these words, the aloof man’s figure flickered, vanishing from the tomb chamber.
Yet the token’s transmission to Li Miao did not cease.
After the man’s image faded, a low, somber voice echoed deep within Li Miao’s mind.
“Ah…” A heavy sigh resounded in his heart.
The voice spoke with sorrow, “This Darkwing Eagle King truly bears grudges. Conflict between humans and demons, life and death, is commonplace. I slew his sworn brother, the White Rhino Demon; he killed me in revenge—fair enough.
“But now he won’t even let me rest after death, laying this sinister formation to torment my lingering soul—truly cruel.
“Alas, I am powerless, left to suffer humiliation. My lord, the Flame King, has marched eastward, likely never to recall his tooth general. The ages ahead will be nothing but torment until my soul fades away.
“My descendants, if you one day reach my tomb and touch this Flame God Token, please promise me one thing.
“Swear that, when you have the strength, you will sever a wing from the Darkwing Eagle King and press it beneath my coffin.
“Only then will I find true peace.
“Additionally, this Flame God Token contains the cultivation method for my divine art, ‘Celestial Finger,’ and my insights into swordsmanship. I hope you will comprehend them fully and let them shine once more in the world.
“If possible, use my Celestial Finger to defeat the Darkwing Eagle King.”
General Mohe’s voice gradually faded; no divine consciousness remained in the token.
Li Miao sighed softly.
This general spent his life following the Flame King through countless campaigns, yet ultimately met a tragic end, and even now his soul cannot rest, tormented by the Darkwing Eagle King. His lord, the Flame King, seemed never to care, not once sending anyone to honor his grave.
Within the token’s lingering consciousness were two names: “Flame King” and “Old Dog Senior”—the respective masters followed by General Mohe and the Darkwing Eagle King.
Li Miao had heard both names.
The Flame King’s renown echoed everywhere, ruler of the ancient East Xuan Kingdom’s Yan Prefecture. The realm of East Xuan comprised five prefectures, each spanning tens of thousands of miles. To be the master of a prefecture was akin to a vassal king, second only to the supreme sovereign.
These five lords were exalted, appointed only under exceptional circumstances. Each was a mighty supernal being of immense power and prestige, able to command the allegiance of countless strongmen across vast lands.
The Flame King ruled all of Yan Prefecture.
But… this was Xin Prefecture, at least ten thousand miles distant from Yan. General Mohe’s burial here must date back many centuries.
The five-prefecture division had remained unchanged for over a thousand years; General Mohe’s era of following the Flame King was at least a millennium past.
As for “Old Dog Senior,” Li Miao had heard the name only once before—on the night Ji Lingyu discovered Guo’er’s extraordinary talent and visited her. When the two discussed the “Reincarnation Lotus Dharma,” Ji Lingyu mentioned that Old Dog Senior’s notes contained relevant information.
This showed Old Dog Senior’s knowledge was vast, able to recognize even relics from the Tai Xu Divine Tomb.
Combining this with the words of the Darkwing Eagle King in the token’s memory, it was clear that Old Dog Senior was a supreme figure among the demon race.
There was nothing more to be found in the sarcophagus.
Li Miao held the Flame God Token, feeling waves of warmth surging through his palm, eager to impart its recorded knowledge.
The divine art “Celestial Finger” and General Mohe’s swordsmanship insights were both highly alluring to him.
Yet Li Miao was not impulsive and refrained from hastily beginning his comprehension atop the high platform.
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Instead, he bowed respectfully to the general’s remains within the stone coffin. “Senior, I promise you: when my cultivation is sufficient, I will sever the Darkwing Eagle King’s feathered wing to comfort your spirit in the heavens!” He then lifted the stone slab and resealed the coffin.
To inherit another’s secrets, one must honor their conditions. Though General Mohe was long dead and the task daunting, Li Miao resolved to fulfill it when he had the power.
The Darkwing Eagle King was a ruler among demons, his strength far beyond the Profound Realm, having reached the level of Divine Transformation—equal to “Old Immortal Moyun,” the strongest in Longquan Prefecture, and perhaps even greater.
But given time, Li Miao believed his talent, fueled by the world’s abundant primal energy, would eventually surpass the Darkwing Eagle King!
Having closed the coffin, Li Miao left the platform and moved to a spacious spot nearby.
The tomb chamber was vast, an ideal place for cultivation.
The Flame God Token radiated heat, untouched by the passage of at least a thousand years, still pristine as if newly forged.
Li Miao seated himself atop an empty round platform, sending his consciousness into the Flame God Token.
Instantly, a surge of scorching energy swept into his mind, transforming his inner world into a sea of fire.
The blaze roared, seemingly spilling from consciousness into reality, making Li Miao sweat profusely.
Then, in his mind’s eye, a thunderous shout rang out—a giant formed of flames appeared within heaven and earth.
“This sword art is my life’s culmination, comprising three forms. Watch closely.”
The giant grasped a long-handled war sword conjured from boundless fire and began to wield it.
His blade work was fierce and relentless, each stroke imbued with unstoppable momentum, like a thousand charging warriors, capable of shattering any obstacle.
As the sword swung, the heat in the inner world grew ever more intense, torrents of flame streaming from the blade and amplifying the scorching aura.
“The first form: Scorching Heaven!”
The giant bellowed, charging three steps with his sword, gathering infinite power, and struck down fiercely!
In that instant, all the flames in the inner world converged into the blade. With that mighty slash, a force capable of burning heaven and earth erupted!
Boom—
Where the sword fell, flames exploded. The inner world became a sea of fire centered on the blade’s impact, even hotter than before.
The flame giant continued his martial display, wielding his battle-worn sword with the valor that had claimed countless foes.
After a while, a deep voice intoned, “The second form: Shattering Void!”
The giant stomped the ground and soared skyward, thrusting his blade forward with lightning speed.
Crack—
As though something had shattered, faint cracks appeared across the inner world, forming a vast net spanning the sky.
With a whoosh, an infinite suction surged from the fractures, swallowing tens of thousands of miles’ worth of fire, dimming the flames of the consciousness world and clearing a broad emptiness.
Having finished, the flame giant paused, seeming exhausted.
After a moment, he once again raised his sword, poised to gather strength.
“The third form: Annihilation!”
“Ha!”
With a furious roar, the giant lifted his sword and brought it down in a heavy strike.
Boom boom boom boom boom—
A simple, unadorned blow unleashed a terrifying chain reaction, the inner world erupting with thunderous explosions.
Centered on the flame giant, hundreds of miles around detonated in a thousand consecutive blasts! That strike felt as if it cleaved the very essence of heaven and earth, making the world tremble on the brink of collapse.