I Can Fix My Talent in Hundred Lives

Chapter 541 - 447: Farewell

Spirit Realm, Western Extreme, Domain of the Golden-winged Roc Race.

To the southeast, a palace forged entirely of celestial dark gold, with beams and columns carved with grandiose totems of the roc striking at the heavens, radiates magnificence and supreme splendor.

At this moment, deep within the grand hall, an old man in a dark gold Daoist robe sits cross-legged.

The elder’s face is ancient and simple, his brow laden with the vicissitudes of time, while his aura is condensed and majestic, boundless as if quelling the universe, even in tranquil stillness.

It is the Golden Feather Demon Venerable, who ascended to the Spirit Realm long ago. His closed eyes now slightly tremble, and his originally stable aura suddenly becomes chaotic.

"The Eleventh Tribulation has arrived!"

...

The eleventh Dao Tribulation is neither a strike from celestial thunder nor the nurturing of heart demons; it is the most perilous inner tribulation cultivators face on their path—Dao’s backlash.

Once the calamity arrives, it is swift as lightning, urgent as thunder breaking through the sky, giving no chance for preparation.

In a flash, two completely different forces burst forth within the Golden Feather Demon Venerable’s body.

The yin force, akin to the chill wind of a netherworld’s cold pool, is intangible yet carries a bone-chilling cold and annihilating aura, containing the purest yin Dao Principle of heaven and earth.

The yang force resembles the Yang Fire of a celestial sun, fierce and dazzling, engulfing heaven-burning heat and destruction, concealing the ultimate yang Dao Principle of the cosmos.

Yin and yang qi wildly collide within him, transforming into countless streams of black and white Dao Principles, crisscrossing and sweeping within him, as if trying to utterly obliterate his Dharma Body and Yang Spirit.

Each stream embodies the power to devastate heaven and earth, torturing his flesh and Divine Soul until they are riddled with holes.

The pain endured is unimaginable to ordinary people!

Yet, there is no trace of panic on the face of the Golden Feather Demon Venerable as he sits upright on the lotus platform, his spine as upright as a pine, only his brow slightly furrowed.

He begins to chant obscure Daoist incantations slowly, forming intricate Dharma Seals with his hands, as brilliant golden light emanates from his body.

Within the golden light, countless Peng Race runes swirl, embodying the essence of his lifetime of cultivation and the supreme Secret Techniques passed down through the ages by the Golden-winged Roc Race.

His Yang Spirit sits firmly at the center of his consciousness, its gaze clear and resolute.

"Yin and yang give birth to each other, the Great Dao reunites as one..."

Suddenly, he opens his eyes, golden light bursts forth from them, and two tangible roc shadows shoot out from his eyes, straight to the sky.

The Power of Origin of the Golden-winged Roc explodes entirely within him, and behind him, a mighty roc silhouette slowly condenses, its wings stretching out to cover the sky.

Its beak, as if forged from celestial gold, glints with biting cold light; its claws, as if molded from ancient divine iron, encapsulate the power to rend the firmament.

For a moment, golden light and black and white qi entwine and collide within the grand hall, unleashing an energy wave of apocalyptic destruction.

The aura of the Golden Feather Demon Venerable frantically oscillates between peaks and valleys, and as the last shred of Power of Origin is exhausted, the golden light within him dims completely.

A trace of golden blood spills from the corner of his mouth, dripping down his chin, onto the dark gold floor, creating a crisp sound akin to the prelude of a tragic song.

The yin and yang qi within him lose their suppression, erupting to the extreme in an instant, utterly destroying his meridians and organs, and rapidly dissolving his Yang Spirit...

At this moment, the Golden Feather Demon Venerable slowly lifts his head, his gaze drifting toward the sky outside the hall, carrying a hint of nostalgia:

"The sunset is infinitely beautiful~"

...

"Caw——!"

The last resounding roc call echoes from within the Golden Feather Hall.

The mighty roc silhouette rises skyward, its wings shimmering with dazzling golden light, its beak resplendent as celestial gold.

Yet, just as the silhouette is about to break through the hall, its form begins to gradually disperse, transforming into countless black and white yin-yang ions, slowly dissipating into the cosmos.

Outside the Golden Feather Hall, aureate clouds swirl, and suddenly a figure appears.

The newcomer is dressed in a black robe imprinted with demon patterns, his features handsome, bearing an innate majesty and dominance—it is the true form of Chen Sheng from the Demon Race.

He stands silently outside the hall, his gaze fixed upon the now annihilated figure within, a flash of indescribable sorrow flickering within his eyes.

Having been under the Golden Feather Demon Venerable’s care extensively, witnessing his annihilation firsthand inevitably stirs feelings of reflection and lamentation within him.

He does not step forward, only standing quietly for a long time before slowly speaking, his voice deep and solemn:

"Demon Venerable, journey well."

...

Fifty thousand years ago.

Back then, Chen Sheng was still in the Lower Realm, his cultivation having reached its peak and trapped at a bottleneck.

In pursuit of a breakthrough, he resolutely chose to ascend to the Spirit Realm, and immediately ventured to the Golden-winged Roc Race.

For someone like "Peng Huan" who has cultivated alone to such a realm, his talent and potential were deemed immense by the Peng Race’s senior ranks.

A Tribulation Crossing Daoist Monarch spoke up, granting him access to the clan’s ultimate treasure—the Daoist Diagram left by the Mahayana Venerable—for his enlightenment and cultivation.

What a pity, tens of thousands of years have passed, and he still hasn’t been able to take that crucial step, always unable to break through the bottleneck...

The breeze brushed by, dispersing the auspicious clouds outside the hall, and also scattering the thoughts in his heart.

Chen Sheng gently shook his head, his tone calm:

"It’s time to go."

He turned around and headed in the direction where the Integration Dharma Master of his lineage resided.

Facing this Great Power within the clan, Chen Sheng maintained the necessary etiquette and informed him of his decision to leave the clan’s land.

The Dharma Master Qian Tian listened, looked at this "fallen genius," and did not try hard to keep him. He just nodded:

"Go ahead, your fortune is not bad, perhaps outside, you can find the opportunity for a breakthrough."

Bidding farewell to the Integration Dharma Master, Chen Sheng did not linger any longer.

With a movement of his body, he transformed into a stream of light, soaring into the heavens and flying out of the clan’s land, soon disappearing into the sky.

...

Time passed quickly, another ten thousand years.

Spirit Realm, Yunlu Daoist Palace.

In the Hall of Life-Annihilating, mysterious light circulated, Chen Sheng sat cross-legged on the lotus platform, his aura ethereal and mystical, seemingly merging with the hall, heaven, and earth.

Outside the hall, a figure in a gray robe stood quietly, it was Zhang Hongdao.

His hair and beard were touched with frost, though his Dao Rhyme was still condensed, it faintly carried a hint of decline.

He had long achieved the Eleventh Tribulation, but for countless years, he was stuck at a bottleneck, unable to comprehend the next transformation of his inner vision, difficult to step into the Twelfth Tribulation.

"Master, this disciple will not return after this journey."

Zhang Hongdao slowly walked into the hall, deeply bowing to Chen Sheng, his voice calm yet carrying a tinge of unnoticeable melancholy.

He had cultivated his heart for tens of thousands of years, his Dao Heart already as firm as a rock, but facing this insurmountable shackle, he could not conceal his regret after all.

Chen Sheng slowly opened his eyes, black and white intertwined in his gaze, reflecting the figure of Zhang Hongdao, without the slightest ripple:

"Where do you plan to go?"

"Disciple wishes to see the Taiyi Realm, where Master once traveled."

Chen Sheng nodded slightly, with a slight movement of his fingers, an ancient Jade Talisman slowly floated in front of Zhang Hongdao:

"This is the Final Dao Talisman, activate it in moments of crisis for protection. Go!"

"Thank you, Master!"

Zhang Hongdao received the Jade Talisman with both hands, clenching it tightly in his palm, and once again bowed deeply to Chen Sheng. This time, he bent his waist and did not straighten it for a long time.

After a while, he finally straightened up, turned around, and transformed into a gray light, breaking through the roof of the hall, disappearing into the cloud sea of the Spirit Realm.

Chen Sheng watched the direction he left in, sitting quietly for a long time; the Final Dao Rhyme in the hall seemed to become more solemn along with it.

Thus, among his disciples, apart from Qi Yuan, Gu Ye, and Chen Qingyun who fell early, now Zhang Hongdao was also sent off, leaving only Ming Qian alone in the vast Hall of Life-Annihilating.

An image of Ming Qian emerged in his mind, and he sighed inwardly, this lad had wasted too much time self-sabotaging.

The path of Cultivation is far more perilous than others, each Crossing of the Tribulation is like licking blood off a blade.

In previous years, Ming Qian barely comprehended during his tenth Longevity Dao Tribulation, just in time a millennium ago, successfully Crossing the Tribulation.

Whether he could cross the next Dao Tribulation, Chen Sheng did not know, because his own time was also nearing its end.

Chen Sheng lowered his gaze to his palm, where a faint gold Dao Rhyme lingered, a mark left by the Twelfth Longevity Dao Tribulation.

"The final five thousand years!"

...

Inside the Star Hub Hall.

Chen Sheng walked into the hall slowly, bowing to Dharma Master Hong Jue: "Disciple Life-Annihilating, pays respect to Master."

Dharma Master Hong Jue slowly opened his eyes, his gaze fell on Chen Sheng, with a trace of indistinguishable pity.

This disciple of his, the early stages of his Cultivation path could be described as fierce and vigorous, rising from the Lower Realm, smoothly cultivating to the Void Refining Twelfth Tribulation.

He even made a groundbreaking achievement in Chongli Heaven, an astounding power that suppressed a world, his battle prowess nearly unparalleled in ages, yet he was stuck at the final step of condensing the Dharma Seed.

However, Dharma Master Hong Jue was accustomed to this, in his long years of Cultivation, he had personally witnessed countless extraordinarily talented individuals stop at this step.

He had more than one such disciple.

Chen Sheng: "Master, this disciple has come to bid farewell."

Dharma Master Hong Jue was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded, his voice as weighty as an ancient bell: "Go."