Desolate Devouring Art - Chapter 1237 - Get Lost
Chapter 1237 – Get Lost
The Yeluo Mirror served one purpose alone—to prevent cheating in every form.
Many disciples entering the Book Collection Pavilion tried to take shortcuts. They secretly summoned Memory Talismans to record the texts, planning to study them at their leisure later. This would allow them to read more than their allotted number of books.
However, the Yeluo Mirror blocked such tricks entirely. Under its watch, the Yeluo Mirror rendered Memory Talismans useless and blocked even ordinary ocular techniques.
When Liu Wuxie unleashed Ghost Eye, the Yeluo Mirror instantly responded. The words on the page writhed and jumped, rejecting him and blocking his view of reading. The next moment shocked him—the Heavenly Dao Book suddenly unfolded on its own, linking directly to the Yeluo Mirror.
A strange sequence of symbols appeared in the Heavenly Dao Book. The exact writhing words emerged there, as if the book itself had bridged directly to the texts in the lesser realm.
Although disciples read in the Book Collection Pavilion, the sect sealed the actual books in the lesser realm. This method ensured no one could steal them and safeguarded them from damage or destruction during battles.
In mere seconds, the Heavenly Dao Book recorded the entire text. It transformed the content into a flawless memory and merged it directly into Liu Wuxie’s soul sea.
“It’s done?” Liu Wuxie murmured, his voice full of disbelief at the unbelievable speed.
The process proved faster and more efficient than Ghost Eye, saving him the trouble of slowly integrating the knowledge later. In the past, he had been relying on Ghost Eye to scan texts before digesting them whenever time permitted. Now, the Heavenly Dao Book etched the knowledge directly into his soul sea as complete memories.
Ecstasy surged through him, but he forced himself to calm down. He closed the book with a steady hand and immediately turned to search for another.
With a flick of his finger, a new projection appeared on the Yeluo Mirror. Again, Liu Wuxie unfolded the Heavenly Dao Book and imprinted the text upon it. Within minutes, another complete set of memories flooded his soul sea.
His soul sea grew tremendously. Training in the Cannibal Valley expanded it, and in the past few days, cultivation with the Wisdom Stone pushed it even further. Of the eighty stones he once had, only fifty remained, but even those were enough to let his soul sea surpass most cultivators in the Primal Origin Realm.
He tapped again. The book on the Yeluo Mirror vanished, and another appeared in its place.
At first, the deacons assumed nothing unusual. They thought Liu Wuxie had found the previous book unsuitable and switched to another. The pavilion held tens of millions of texts, and disciples often searched for the right one.
Soon, they noticed something was off. Liu Wuxie never stayed on a single projection for long—barely a few seconds passed before he replaced it with another.
The deacons grew overwhelmed. Each time he flipped to a new book, they had to reorganize the previous one back into the spiritual array’s order. Within minutes, a mountain of displaced books piled up, and irritation spread across their faces like wildfire.
Still, Liu Wuxie showed no sign of slowing. One after another, he imprinted complete books into his soul sea. Before long, he had absorbed more than a hundred sets of memories, each one representing an entire text he could summon at will.
Time slipped by until a deacon’s patience finally snapped. In just fifteen minutes, Liu Wuxie had read through over a thousand books. This was no longer reading but causing trouble in the Book Collection Pavilion.
“Brat, what do you think you’re doing? If you can’t decide what to read, then get out and come back when you’re ready!” the deacon barked. Sorting that many displaced books would take them at least an hour.
“I can read however I want. That’s my right,” Liu Wuxie replied firmly. “The Book Collection Pavilion never set a rule on how many books one can read.”
He was right. The pavilion limited access by time, not by quantity. Most disciples browsed four or five books before settling, but none had ever flipped through thousands. By the rules, however, Liu Wuxie was not wrong. In this aspect, the Heavenly Dragon Sect differed from most other sects.
“Brat, don’t push it! Do you realize the chaos you’re causing? If the spiritual array jams, the upper echelon will hold you accountable!” the deacon shouted in anger.
If the array collapsed, no disciple could read until the deacons reorganized every book. Should the upper echelon blame them, the deacons could never shoulder the responsibility.
A faint smirk curved Liu Wuxie’s lips. This was precisely what he wanted—to draw the attention of the sect’s higher-ups.
“That’s your problem, not mine. Don’t disturb me again,” he said, waving dismissively before moving on to the next projection. In minutes, another set of memories entered his soul sea.
“Brat, you’re courting death!” the deacon roared, slamming his palm out.
A powerful aura swept forward, brimming with the might of the high Origin Conversion Realm. Most deacons cultivated at this level, while those who reached the Primal Origin Realm could serve as outer elders. His strike carried enough force to expel an outer disciple outright.
The clash immediately drew attention.
“What’s going on? Why would a deacon attack an outer disciple?” Inner disciples whispered, gathering in confusion. Although the outer disciples rarely visited the sixth floor, they were permitted to do so. With enough merit, they could gain entry.
The strike hurtled toward Liu Wuxie, but waiting passively for an attack was never his way.
“Get lost!” he bellowed, sweeping out his palm. A violent shockwave erupted, countering the attack head-on.
Gasps swept through the crowd. None expected Liu Wuxie to wield such strength.
The deacon’s face shifted with alarm as he twisted aside, barely evading. The pavilion itself stood unscathed because the sect reinforced it to withstand even Void Realm battles.
However, Liu Wuxie did not stop. Another palm swept forward, this time striking true. The deacon slammed into the corner wall, groaning.
The other deacons rushed over but dared not step closer. The oppressive aura radiating from Liu Wuxie froze them in place.
“Don’t disturb my reading. Get lost,” Liu Wuxie snapped coldly.
The thousands of books he devoured carried immense value. Even the most ordinary martial techniques contained painstaking insights of predecessors. From them, Liu Wuxie absorbed fragments of knowledge that refined his own cultivation.
Not even an Immortal Emperor could claim to master every art in the world. When Liu Wuxie first practiced the Great Heavenly Dragon Mythical Art, also known as the Poison Dao Art or the Spatial Dao Art, he lacked experience and advanced only through trial and error.
Each book offered him a foundation to improve.
Aside from martial techniques, some texts introduced the structure of the Indigo Bamboo Astral Domain and explained its connections to other planets. To his surprise, he even found precious information about the Spirit Clan.
That discovery carried weight. He had promised the Feather Emperor to return the Earth-Binding Chains to the Spirit Clan. Over the past year, he had barely used them, sensing their growing rejection.
After all, the Spirit Clan created the Earth-Binding Chains as a sacred artifact, and they never truly belonged to him. Although he cultivated the Soul Forge Art, without their bloodline, he could only control them shallowly.
This was why he raged at the deacon’s interference. At the same time, he used the chaos to achieve a second goal—to attract the upper echelon’s notice.
“You’ll regret this! Once the array jams, the entire pavilion will fall into chaos. Let’s see how you handle it then!” the deacon spat, his face twisted with malice.
The deacons failed to reorganize as quickly as Liu Wuxie read. Inevitably, the spiritual array collapsed enough to force someone from the lesser realm to investigate.
However, Liu Wuxie ignored him. A faint smile stayed on his lips as he flipped through one book after another, each becoming a perfect memory in his soul sea.
His actions shocked the entire pavilion. Crowds of disciples gathered, whispering.
“Has he gone mad? The array will collapse at this pace,” many muttered. The pavilion sustained only ten thousand books a day, yet Liu Wuxie had already passed four to five thousand before half a day ended.
Each time he reached a thousand, he would pause for an hour to rest and digest what he had absorbed. Then, he would resume without hesitation.
More people crowded in from the surroundings, but Liu Wuxie ignored them and immersed himself in reading. Books were the ladder of human civilization and evolution.
Through them, his vision, combat strength, knowledge, perspective, and understanding of cultivation grew sharper. Even obscure concepts that once baffled him now became clear.
By midday, he had finished reading every book on the sixth floor, over twenty thousand texts. The Heavenly Dragon Sect accumulated these works over the course of a million years, yet Liu Wuxie consumed them all in a single day.
“He must be insane. Even an Earth Immortal would struggle to digest tens of thousands of books,” many inner disciples scoffed. To them, Liu Wuxie was only trying to draw attention and would soon pay the price once the spiritual array collapsed.
Meanwhile, chaos overtook the sixth floor. The deacons failed to keep pace with reorganizing the displaced books. Each text bore a unique number, and they had to restore it exactly as it was. If they placed a book in the wrong category, it would stop the disciples from finding it. A book on spiritual herbs, for example, could not remain among martial techniques.
It would have been far simpler if the pavilion had been using physical books. Liu Wuxie could have returned them himself after reading. However, the Heavenly Dragon Sect’s pavilion operated differently. Every text on the Yeluo Mirror projected was directly from the lesser realm. Each time Liu Wuxie read, the system would pull out the corresponding book and project it. Then, it would force it back once he dismissed the book.
Liu Wuxie was flipping through books without pause, and his actions threw the lesser realm itself into disarray.
“What’s going on? Who’s making such a mess on the sixth floor?! The books are in complete disorder!” Screams echoed from the lesser realm’s pavilion, where deacons scrambled frantically to sort the chaos.
