Chapter 12: Primordial Spirit Sword Technique
Wang Heng's eyes immediately erupted with a radiant brilliance, akin to two dazzling suns.
"Buzz!"
Following a gentle sound, ten ancient characters fused together into an indescribable black glyph.
It remained silent without a sound, its black surface looked solemn and dignified, as if forged from some obsidian-like metal. It was immensely complex, with each unit breaking down into an astronomical number of basic ancient characters.
Witnessing this scene, Wang Heng was astounded. The ten previous ancient characters were already intricate, beyond his comprehension. Now, they had merged into such a breathtaking glyph, which was simply unimaginable.
It seemed like an incarnation of the Dao itself, surging with profound Dao rhythms, resembling the origin point of all creation, as if capable of splitting the heavens and the earth.
Suddenly, Wang Heng's eyes flickered, his expression turning to amazement and bewilderment. He wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but momentarily, he mistook the black glyph for a black seed.
Upon closer inspection, it was indeed so; no longer a black glyph, but a single black seed infused with the essence of the Dao lay quietly there.
“If that's the case, the supreme technique could also serve as a Dao seed,” Wang Heng muttered, hypothesizing to himself.
Just as he was deep in thought, the black seed underwent another transformation. Large sections of its outer shell began to fall away, revealing something within.
It was a small black sword. Merely by floating there silently, it stirred a sense of unrest and apprehension, as if in the next moment it could strike, destroying the soul and shattering the spirit.
Wang Heng could even feel the sharpness emanating from the sword's black body, a sharpness that could instantly plunge him into eternal silence, leaving only a shell of himself in this world.
This was the "Pacification Sword Doctrine", the supreme sword art coveted even by celestial kings. Of course, for now, its name remained the Primal Spirit Sword Art.
"Pacification Sword Doctrine!"
Wang Heng murmured softly.
In the chaotic ancient era of the Perfect World, Shi Hao had tried every means to acquire this supreme sword art, but in vain. It had always been a unique heritage of the Wang lineage, with only Wang Changsheng being the exception, whom the nine-headed fiend of the dark side had managed to control.
Now, it was easily within his grasp. The forbidden scriptures were hidden within his blood, ready to be awakened by meeting the right conditions, and they manifested before his eyes.
He couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement; this was the Pacification Sword Doctrine, the ultimate secret art of the Primal Spirit path. One stroke, and the heavens and earth fall silent, striking fear into both the living and the dead, and bringing peace to a tumultuous world.
At this moment, the black husk completely fell away, piling up on the ground. These husks were essentially ancient Dao characters, having provided all their essence to nurture the core sword body. Once drained, they became mere dregs, scattering to the wind. All that remained was the black sword body, suspended in Wang Heng's gaze.
From the outside, this small black sword seemed unremarkable—completely black, devoid of intricate carvings or mysterious patterns. It appeared ordinary, plain, and unadorned.
However, no one dared underestimate it, for the Primal Spirit Sword specifically targets the primal spirit, the weakest aspect for most cultivators. Everyone feared and respected it.
Wang Heng couldn't resist the urge to reach out with his mystical hand to gently stroke the sword body. Undeniably, this was a tremendous treasure, something he could rely on as he travelled through ancient realms, navigating the vast cosmos.
Having successfully mastered the extensive language of the ancient immortals, surpassing hundreds of thousands of characters, he had also unlocked the Pacification Doctrine inheritance within his bloodline. This enlightenment journey yielded immense rewards, laying the strongest foundation for his future path of cultivation.
Wang Heng exhaled deeply and rose from his meditative posture. Now, he was far stronger than before entering the Temple of Communication, understanding the most basic applications of the language of the Dao. His whole being was enveloped in ethereal immortal energy, mysterious and unfathomable, exuding an air of immortality.
His long, jet-black hair fell over his shoulders, and his profound eyes were inscrutable. His looks were as distinguished as jade, with exceptional bone structure and extraordinary demeanor. Despite being only ten years old, he commanded respect and awe.
“The bloodline power of the Celestial King is truly terrifying. I've nearly mastered all of the basic ancient characters.”
“Boom!”
As Wang Heng approached, the metal doors swung open by themselves, leaving a gap just large enough for a person to pass through.
As he stepped out, the two massive doors slowly closed behind him.
The enigmatic man, a prodigy in the realm of True Immortals, had been waiting outside for quite some time. Upon seeing Wang Heng emerge, he immediately stepped forward.
As a celestial being, his perceptive gaze easily penetrated through the superficial, instantly noticing the transformation in Wang Heng.
Compared to when he entered the Hall of Transmission, Wang Heng was no longer an untouched canvas; he had become a vast and blank expanse, waiting for the vibrant strokes of destiny to paint its colors.
The man's eyes lit up, a smile forming at his lips, "Congratulations, young master, your path to the Great Dao is unfolding."
Wang Heng's expression remained calm. Despite conversing with a True Immortal, he held a status far above the other, so he felt no compulsion to respond. However, he was already aware of the Wang family's impending decline, and acting arrogantly now could invite future troubles.
Smiling faintly, he replied, "This time, my harvest is indeed plentiful, thanks in part to your assistance. When my father returns, Wang Heng will certainly mention this."
Upon hearing Wang Heng speak, the enigmatic man's heart was already in turmoil. The mention of the Celestial King made it impossible for even a True Immortal to remain composed.
"You flatter me, young master. This is merely my duty. Moreover, you need not address me as senior; you can simply call me by my name."
"In the past, I was merely a human being stuck at the supreme realm, incapable of ascending to immortality. By a stroke of luck, I joined the Wang family and received unparalleled nurturing, finally crossing the heavenly chasm and achieving immortality as a True Immortal."
"From that moment, I discarded my surname and adopted the name of the Celestial King I followed. Young master, you may call me Wang Mian," the enigmatic man said respectfully.
Had the young man before him been merely a distant descendant of the Celestial King, it wouldn’t have demanded such reverence from a True Immortal like him. The truth, however, was that Wang Heng was the direct offspring of the Celestial King, holding an unsurpassable status.
In the outside world, True Immortals willing to guard Wang Heng were numerous, eager for the chance to be close to the supreme Celestial King.
Yet, Wang Heng shook his head.
"In the path of cultivation, attainment is the priority. I have not even planted the seed of the Dao. Facing a cultivator who has already ascended to immortality, it is only natural to address you as senior."
Wang Mian wanted to say more but was stopped by Wang Heng.
“Elder, there's no need to say more; I have my own judgment.”
Seeing this, Wang Mian didn't press the issue further and could only respect Wang Heng’s decision.
However, a doubt lingered in his mind. Before Wang Heng's talent awakened, in other words, before he lost his memory, his personality was not like this. It seemed a bout of amnesia had drastically changed him.
(End of Chapter)