Desolate Devouring Art - Chapter 1223 - Primordial Pagoda
Chapter 1223 – Primordial Pagoda
A sixth-grade spiritual pill could raise a cultivator in the Origin Conversion Realm by one whole level unconditionally. Yet Liu Wuxie had to consume two to push himself to the fifth level of the Transcendent Realm.
If such news were to spread, no one would believe it.
The combined energy from the Pure Yang Pills and the astral stones condensed into the shape of a divine dragon that rampaged within him. Since he was cultivating the Panwu Divine Art, his body’s capacity had expanded many times over, with countless star nodes burning like constellations across his frame.
Each of his meridians shone like a flowing galaxy, intertwining into a vast star river through which the divine dragon shuttled.
The repeated impacts made him tremble violently, flooding him with unbearable pain. It was a clear warning; his physique was struggling to keep pace with his cultivation. Strike after strike failed to break the gateway to the fifth-level Transcendent Realm, and the backlash forced him to spit blood.
Drawing in a heavy breath, Liu Wuxie roared from within. The dragon in his meridians bellowed in response, and a phantom dragon appeared above him, opening its maw to devour every strand of spiritual energy within thousands of meters of him.
The spectacle captured the attention of countless eyes across the sect. Elder Long, who had just returned from Avatar Star, froze upon sensing the aura. He hadn’t resumed cultivation but had been tracing the reason behind the Heavenly Dragon Seal’s disappearance.
“It’s that boy again,” Elder Long muttered, staring at the horizon where dragon aura surged like a storm.
In recent days, he had been scouring old records and finally uncovered clues: the great war of ages past had bound the Heavenly Dragon Seal. His own ancestor had marched into battle wielding both the Heavenly Dragon Seal and the Dragon Clan Scepter, only to vanish with them when a fragment of the continent tore away.
Meanwhile, all of Liu Wuxie’s true essence rushed from his desolate world to strengthen the phantom dragon surging with a seemingly endless dragon aura.
With another earth-shattering impact, the gateway to the fifth-level Transcendent Realm crumbled into dust.
The instant the barrier shattered, the heavens shifted. A massive vortex opened above his courtyard, drawing spiritual energy in torrents. He Yingwu, cultivating nearby, no longer needed to refine astral stones; the energy pouring down was more than enough to propel his breakthrough.
Meanwhile, Liu Wuxie’s desolate world expanded under the deluge of true essence. Mountains thrust skyward, lakes roared into being, and surging waves of heat hammered the crystalline walls of the world.
Though he had made only two consecutive breakthroughs, the laws of the Transcendent Realm inside him multiplied fivefold, and the purity of his true essence grew tenfold. He felt an explosive power fill every inch of his bones and flesh, like a divine dragon awakening from a deep slumber. Cold energy coursed down his arm and spread outward, making the air itself shiver.
At the fifth-level Transcendent Realm, the Great Frost Mythical Art advanced dramatically, its strength rising in tandem with the Nine Heavenly Dragon Forms.
When unleashed, his art would conjure a dragon thirty thousand meters long. If he fused all three forms at once, he could even slay cultivators at the higher levels of the Origin Conversion Realm without resorting to the Heaven-Severing Strike.
Liu Wuxie spent more than a day consolidating his foundation. By the third day, he stepped out into the courtyard; he had stabilized his cultivation at the fifth-level Transcendent Realm.
His next goal was to temper his new realm in the Primordial Pagoda. Before departing, he handed the manual for the Great Asura Art to He Yingwu. The sword art did not suit him; he already possessed the Heaven-Severing Strike, after all.
Once He Yingwu had raised his cultivation, Liu Wuxie planned to entrust him with greater tasks. When he had first entered the Astral Domain, he was too weak to enact his plans, but things were different now.
He Yingwu remained in seclusion, working on his breakthrough, and Liu Wuxie refrained from disturbing him. Quietly, he left the courtyard and set off toward the Primordial Pagoda.
After crossing a mountain range, he finally beheld it—the towering yellow pagoda that the sect’s disciples revered as a sacred ground. Artisans built the pagoda in an octagonal design, and it had four gates, each leading to different ranges of floors.
The first through third floors belonged to outer disciples, the fourth through sixth floors to inner disciples, the seventh through ninth floors to true disciples, while the sect reserved the tenth floor for high-ranking elders and barred all disciples from it.
Since he secured first place during the wilderness training, Liu Wuxie had earned the right to cultivate on the fifth floor. The eastern gate led to the tenth floor, the southern to the seventh through ninth, the western to the fourth through sixth, and the northern to the first through third.
He headed straight for the western gate, ignoring the curious stares, and walked in.
“Who’s that brat? Why did an outer disciple come here?” some inner disciples muttered in confusion. By cultivation alone, a fifth-level Transcendent Realm cultivator was the weakest of the outer sect disciples, yet here he was.
“He probably came to the wrong place,” another sneered. Every year, a few new disciples would wander where they didn’t belong.
Inside, a vast hall opened, and a glowing portal led directly to the fourth floor. Several elders manned the registration tables while disciples lined up, depositing their points into a towering light pillar. One day on the fourth floor cost one thousand points; higher floors demanded more.
Liu Wuxie even saw high-level Origin Conversion disciples pay three thousand points to ascend directly to the sixth floor.
A line of more than twenty disciples stretched ahead of him. Liu Wuxie calmly took his place at the end of the queue.
“Brat, get out—you’re in the wrong place,” sneered two disciples behind him. One reached for Liu Wuxie’s shoulder but immediately recoiled as if burned, his face twisting in shock.
“You dare retaliate?” the pair roared, drawing the attention of others in line.
“I don’t want trouble,” Liu Wuxie said coldly. His eyes flashed like blades as he fixed his gaze on the one who had tried to touch him. That man was only at the third level of the Origin Conversion Realm, basically trash in Liu Wuxie’s eyes.
Heads turned throughout the hall. Liu Wuxie’s gray robe stood out starkly among a sea of purple Inner Sect garb.
Humiliated, the youth snarled, “You’re courting death!”
To an inner disciple, an outer disciple was nothing but an ant. However, this ant had actually dared to humiliate him. He lashed out with a palm strike, his speed vicious, but in Liu Wuxie’s eyes, it was no faster than a crawling snail.
“Get lost!” Liu Wuxie snapped. His foot shot out, and the youth flew backward, crashing hard against the floor. The line halted; even those near the portal turned to watch.
The youth’s companion rushed to pull him up, revealing a clear footprint that marred his abdomen.
“Zhou Chen, you’re pathetic. An outer disciple beat you? You’ve disgraced the inner sect,” others mocked.
The name rippled through the crowd. Zhou Chen wasn’t the weakest among the inner disciples; he had reached the third-level Origin Conversion Realm, after all. Compared to the elites, however, he was far from impressive.
The laughter only fueled his fury. He had meant to humiliate an outer disciple, but Liu Wuxie had kicked him aside in front of dozens. He had to kill Liu Wuxie here, or his name would rot in shame.
“You’re dead!” Zhou Chen roared, unleashing his Origin Conversion Realm aura like a crashing tide.
However, his oppressive aura didn’t affect Liu Wuxie at all. Onlookers gaped—he was an outer disciple, yet the pressure couldn’t even touch him. The elders guarding the pagoda remained impassive. Fights broke out here daily; stronger disciples often seized places in line. None of this surprised them.
“I only want to cultivate. Don’t provoke me,” Liu Wuxie warned. His aura flared like a storm-tossed sea, battering Zhou Chen with sheer force.
Both Zhou Chen and his companion staggered backward, but too many eyes watched for him to retreat. If he were to back down, he would never be able to hold his head high again.
“What a powerful aura! Who is he? Why haven’t I seen him before?” one disciple whispered. Even high-level Transcendent disciples showed unease at the oppressive weight.
“He must be new. I’ve never seen his face,” another said. Most of them knew every disciple who had ascended from the outer sect—but this man was a stranger.
“I’ll kill you!” Zhou Chen bellowed. Together with his companion, he drew his sword. Twin blades lunged, sword aura ripping the air. To any ordinary Transcendent, the pressure alone would crush them.
The swords scissored inward from both sides. Liu Wuxie didn’t dodge and charged straight into their path.
“Is he insane? Doesn’t he know how to evade?” the disciples muttered in disbelief. Zhou Chen’s earlier defeat, they thought, had been nothing but a result of his carelessness. Now that he and his partner had made a serious move, even if Liu Wuxie were at the first level of the Origin Conversion Realm, he would still crumble before them.
The twin sword auras descended, wrapping Liu Wuxie in a net of lethal light. One misstep would tear him to shreds, but what happened next shattered their understanding of the world.
