novelraw Chapter 54 : The Taixu Invocation
Chapter 54 : The Taixu Invocation
Chapter 54: The Taixu Invocation
At this moment, Shen Yanzhou naturally stepped into the third stage.
He could clearly sense strands of martial blood essence intertwining with the Daoist soul essence within the Primordial Qi vortex — colliding, dissipating, and attempting to merge.
As the two forces clashed and fused, a current was born — one that blended the essences of Martial and Daoist origins, interwoven with the aura of the Primordial State.
The first strand of Primordial Mother Qi was formed, and the stability of the Primordial Qi vortex could not exist without it.
It was like injecting a continuous, bubbling spring into a stagnant pool of dead water.
Previously, when Shen Yanzhou circulated the Breath of Primordial Chaos within the vortex, it could deplete entirely, requiring him to draw it anew from the boundless void.
But with the birth of Primordial Mother Qi, his vortex could now autonomously generate and refine the Breath of Primordial Chaos.
This marked the beginning of his physical body’s rebellion — the reconstruction of the Primordial Embryo.
Upon entering the third stage of the True Explanation of Primordial Unity’s first realm, both his Martial and Daoist realms advanced together, breaking through to the Seventh Rank, Middle Stage.
“You broke through again?”
As Shen Yanzhou’s realm surged, Lin Qingcang, who had been recuperating within the Sumeru Ring, sensed the fluctuation.
His eyes snapped open in disbelief.
Something wasn’t right.
He clearly remembered that Shen Yanzhou had only advanced to the Eighth Rank last night — starting from having no cultivation at all.
It wasn’t even dawn yet.
Only a few hours had passed, and he had already advanced to the Seventh Rank?
“Just a stroke of luck.”
Shen Yanzhou recalled a line and smiled faintly.
“……”
Lin Qingcang fell into stunned silence.
After several breaths, he finally asked with hesitant disbelief, “Be honest with me—are you the reincarnation of some ancient powerhouse?”
One couldn’t blame him for suspecting so.
Shen Yanzhou’s composure — his disregard even for a Martial God like Lin Qingcang — and the superior attitude he maintained even against that sword-wielding girl of far higher cultivation, spoke volumes.
What kind of youth behaved like this — so calculating, so shrewd, so unfathomably old in mind?
“Senior, among the movement techniques you pride yourself on, which one would best suit me to learn?”
Shen Yanzhou smiled, sidestepping the question.
Lin Qingcang’s martial legacy was already in his possession — including the Martial God’s Secret Scripture he had created himself, as well as various other cultivation methods and techniques, none ranked below the Third Grade.
If the current martial sects of this world learned of this, they would surely go mad with envy.
Even a single Fourth-Grade technique could serve as a sect’s core inheritance — its Town-Guarding Technique.
The classification of cultivation arts in this world was, in fact, quite simple.
Thousands of years ago — or even earlier — the system had been standardized into nine ranks.
Generally speaking, as long as one’s aptitude wasn’t terrible, cultivating a Fourth-Grade technique to its limit could lead one to attain the Fourth Grade.
At this moment, Lin Qingcang was thoroughly convinced that Shen Yanzhou must be the reincarnation of an ancient being.
He snorted coldly.
“Those movement techniques of mine—would you even bother to look at them?”
“……”
Shen Yanzhou truly didn’t know how to respond, for this was indeed a blind spot in his knowledge.
In the original story, while higher-ranked movement techniques were strong, they didn’t necessarily suit him.
Seeing Shen Yanzhou remain silent, Lin Qingcang suddenly felt inexplicably pleased.
After a moment, he continued, “The Martial God’s Secret Scripture I created includes a movement art called Seven Steps of the Martial God. With each step, a Martial God’s true form manifests; upon the seventh step, the heavens and earth are destroyed — none can stand against it.”
“An offensive art. I’ll pass.” Shen Yanzhou shook his head.
He was purely a numbers-type cultivator.
The Selfless Sword Heart already provided all the offense he needed — simple, direct, without any needless flourish: the will moves, the sword follows.
Greed only leads to inefficiency.
Learning another offensive technique would be useless.
It would be better to fully enhance his Selfless Sword Heart.
Right now, what he sought was a high-speed movement art — ideally one with invulnerability frames or untrackable effects, something to ensure survival in critical moments.
Lin Qingcang raised an eyebrow and huffed coldly.
“Blind fool.”
But soon, another thought crossed his mind.
“The Phantom Steps of Star Treading, perhaps? Back then, I won it from the founder of the Ancient Stargazing Sect in a wager. He created it after three years of observing the shifting paths of the stars — walking their trajectories upon a fine sand plate. It’s elusive and bewildering, impossible to predict or guard against…”
“This technique is indeed rather unique. In the end, it still fell into my hands.” His tone carried a trace of pride.
“An illusion-type movement art? I’ll pass.” Shen Yanzhou shook his head again.
“You—!”
A vein twitched on Lin Qingcang’s forehead.
You won’t learn this, you won’t learn that — then why bother asking me at all? Was this just to toy with him?
“Does Senior know of any techniques for escaping or evasion?” Shen Yanzhou asked directly.
“Escaping?”
Lin Qingcang was taken aback, his expression turning strange.
“When I face an enemy, I’ve never known what it means to flee, nor have I ever considered such things.”
“But if you insist, there’s one I can recommend — called Ephemeral Crossing. Unfortunately, it has long been lost. I never obtained it myself. It was said to be created by a great master who, upon observing the mayfly’s life of dawn to dusk, devised a movement art embodying ultimate agility — ever-shifting, impossible to capture.”
“Though the ages have long buried its origin, and its creator’s tomb may no longer be found, if one seeks it earnestly enough… perhaps it can still be discovered,” Lin Qingcang said.
Hearing that, Shen Yanzhou couldn’t help but shake his head.
He had no intention of wasting time searching for a long-lost art.
A movement technique was merely a safeguard.
True power lay in one’s own strength.
“Besides Ephemeral Crossing, there’s another technique I know of — though far more difficult. To even begin, one must have mastered the Laws of Space. If blessed with spatial affinity, all the better. Generally, only certain special races — those dwelling hidden within the void — could ever hope to cultivate it.”
Lin Qingcang recalled that legendary movement art.
Even at his peak, he had only glimpsed it — and realized it didn’t suit his Martial Heart, for he despised stealth and concealment.
“Oh?”
“What movement art is it?”
Shen Yanzhou’s interest was piqued.
“Taixu Invocation.”
“Transforming the body into nothingness, drawing upon and escaping into space,” said Lin Qingcang.
……
At that moment, near the gorge of Hidden Moon Mountain, Wu Ruyue frowned deeply as she studied the formation before her.
Thin mist drifted around, and though dawn was fast approaching in the distance, she still could not find the formation’s core.
When she had tried to help Shen Yanzhou delay the villains of the Nether Cult, she had not expected to be lured here by them, only to end up trapped within the formation.
Her martial cultivation was not shallow, yet her knowledge of formations was indeed lacking.
She had already spent several hours here.
“I wonder how the Young Heir Shen is faring…”
Wu Ruyue attempted to contact Shen Yanzhou through his Transmission Jade Talisman, but no reply came.
With no other choice, she could only wait in vain for the people of the Bureau of Immortal Inspection and the Chilin Guards to arrive.
“Eh? The mist is dispersing…”
Suddenly, Wu Ruyue noticed that the mist not far away was thinning, the scene gradually becoming clearer.
Just as she felt puzzled, she noticed a few figures walking toward her.
“Miss Wu?”
One of them recognized her and called out in delight.
Only then did Wu Ruyue see that it was Zhou Yang, a Hundred-man Commander of the Chilin Guards.
Behind him followed several other guards, all looking exhausted, their armor stained with blood as though they had just endured a fierce battle.
Among the group of Chilin Guards were also Immortal Officers such as Gu Ruoxi and Chu Dao.
“Have you seen anyone from the Nether Cult?”
“What about the attendants and retainers of the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion?”
As the group approached Wu Ruyue and saw her alone, they could not help but ask in confusion.
Wu Ruyue frowned slightly and explained how she and Daoist Qingfeng had been separated, as well as how she had encountered Shen Yanzhou.
“Dawn is almost breaking, and those frenzied beasts have already retreated. We were worried that we might encounter that Demon King, but now it seems that even its presence has vanished.”
“But it’s strange—along the way, we saw traces of fighting, yet not a single person from the Nether Cult.”
All the Chilin Guards found it odd.
“Should we still proceed into the mountains toward the Forest of No Return?” someone asked.
“No matter what, even knowing the path ahead is dangerous, we must go and take a look at the Forest of No Return.”
The group did not linger.
After a brief discussion, they decided to continue deeper into the mountains, following the path through the gorge.
Wu Ruyue quietly followed along.
At first, everyone feared an ambush within the gorge and advanced cautiously, but aside from a few beast carcasses, they encountered no other presence.
In fact, compared to the rest of Hidden Moon Mountain, this area was even quieter.
Until daylight began to brighten the horizon, and the first pale light of dawn appeared, they finally exited the gorge and started along the mountain path toward the Forest of No Return atop Hidden Moon Mountain.
“Why does everything about this feel suspicious? Chu Dao, do you think this could be some act staged by the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion?”
Gu Ruoxi, with her charming face and a floral dress swaying as she walked, whispered to her colleague beside her.
“You think so too?”
“In truth, there may never have been any Nether Cult members at all. From beginning to end, it was all the people of the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion,” said Chu Dao, who, though rough-looking, was keen-minded.
He deliberately lowered his voice.
“Even rousing the beasts and alarming the Demon King of Hidden Moon Mountain—likely all part of their arrangement.”
“Those attendants and retainers must have been feigning loyalty while acting in secret,” murmured Gu Ruoxi thoughtfully.
Otherwise, how could one explain that they had not seen a single hidden member of the Nether Cult along the way?
“They want to use the Nether Cult’s hand to justifiably eliminate the Young Heir Shen?”
“And afterward, the blame for failing to protect him would conveniently fall upon us,” Chu Dao said with a cold laugh.
Gu Ruoxi frowned and said in a low voice, “But what would be the reason for doing so? Could it be internal strife within the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion?”
“Have you forgotten the rumor that spread before the Young Heir was captured—that the Demon Suppression King has an illegitimate son…” Chu Dao’s gaze flickered.
“That illegitimate son, who has never shown his face, seeks to remove the heir and seize the position?” Gu Ruoxi suddenly realized.
“Most likely, this is a tacit agreement within the Prince’s Mansion itself. Compared to that frivolous wastrel of a second generation, the illegitimate son probably holds far greater potential and promise…” Chu Dao had nearly pieced the whole matter together.
Gu Ruoxi fell silent, shaking her head with a sigh.
The power struggles within the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion were even more intricate than she had imagined.
“At this point, by the time we reach the summit, we’ll likely be retrieving the Young Heir’s corpse,” Chu Dao said.
The journey toward the mountain’s peak was not as perilous as they had imagined—there were not even any beasts in sight.
Nor did they encounter any ambush.
All this only deepened their unease.
Meanwhile, at the summit of Hidden Moon Mountain, the clouds had thinned, and the outlines of distant mountains faded into the vast horizon.
A ray of brilliant golden light pierced from the distant edge of the sky, painting the forest in radiant hues, driving away the chill of the previous night.
The wilderness seemed to come alive with vigor.
Shen Yanzhou sat alone atop a half-human-tall green stone, watching as the great sun rose, its light spilling across the heavens.
Streams of purple qi ascended, converging into what looked like a magnificent brocade stretching for a thousand miles.
“This long-held wish and obsession—I’ve finally helped you fulfill it.”
Shen Yanzhou spoke quietly to himself.
He could clearly feel faint traces of obsession dissolving within him, like prayer beads shattering one by one.
At the same time, fragments of broken memories seemed to merge into his flesh and soul—at first blurred, then clear, then fading again.
They were pieces of the original body’s past, fragments once buried deep in consciousness.
Now they surged forth, scattered and indistinct.
Compared to the descriptions in the book, these memories made Shen Yanzhou feel that the original body had indeed been a living person.
Yet now, the two had become one.
Though these memories might stir his emotions, he could only view them as an observer looking upon his past self.
After all, he was no longer that timid, weak man.
Returning from his thoughts, Shen Yanzhou rose from the green stone.
Behind him stood the Soul-devouring Flood Serpent in its black-clad guise.
“Young Master, a large group of people are heading this way,” the Soul-devouring Flood Serpent said.
“It seems the Chilin Guards and the Bureau of Immortal Inspection have arrived first.”
“Let the beasts begin their move.”
Shen Yanzhou waved his hand.
Obeying his command, the Soul-devouring Flood Serpent turned into a shadow and vanished into the clouds.
The next instant, a roar shook the heavens, echoing across all directions.
In that moment, the once-deadly stillness of Hidden Moon Mountain erupted into chaos as the roars of countless beasts rose one after another.
The many beasts that had lain dormant through the night went mad again, charging out from every corner like a flood, surging toward the mountain’s periphery.
For a time, the mountains trembled, the ground quaked, as though the earth itself shuddered.
Trees snapped along their path.
Those from the Chilin Guards and the Bureau of Immortal Inspection, who were on their way to the summit, turned pale.
The quiet journey had lulled them into a false sense of security, and none expected this sudden eruption of madness among the beasts.
A terrifying, overwhelming aura—like a vast river bursting through its banks—poured down from the mountain’s peak, washing over them like a flood.
Faces turned deathly white.
A few of the weaker Chilin Guards nearly collapsed, unable to stand.
“The Demon King! There’s a Demon King at the summit…”
“We must not go any farther—it’s likely its territory!”
The senior immortal officer from the Bureau of Immortal Inspection was the first to speak, his expression grim, refusing to take another step up the mountain.