Desolate Devouring Art - Chapter 1246 - Eighth-Level Transcendent Realm
Chapter 1246 – Eighth-Level Transcendent Realm
With the True Dragon Physique cultivation method, Liu Wuxie’s fleshly body strengthened at a pace visible to the naked eye. His raw power now allowed him to defeat ninth-level Origin Conversion Realm cultivators with a single punch. In sheer strength, he surpassed ordinary standards; no assembly of ninth-level cultivators could rival him.
More terrifyingly, his physique fused perfectly with the Nine Heavenly Dragon Forms.
He withdrew the porcelain bottle Elder Long had given him, preparing to refine the dragon’s blood and break into the eighth-level Transcendent Realm.
The moment he unsealed the bottle, a violent aura burst out and shook the palace. The blood carried the dragon clan’s ancient laws; its might condensed into the phantom of a golden divine dragon that hovered over his head.
“The owner of this blood must have reached the Earth Immortal Realm, or perhaps even higher,” Liu Wuxie murmured. Without hesitation, he poured the dragon’s blood into the Sky Devouring Divine Cauldron.
A thunderous rumble rocked the cauldron as demonic flames surged to refine the blood. The divine dragon phantom roared in defiance, unwilling to yield, but Liu Wuxie channeled the True Dragon Physique. Gradually, the phantom calmed, burrowed into his body, and carved dragon runes along his skin.
Golden scales erupted across his torso, rendering him neither fully human nor fully dragon. Power flooded his arms; he felt as if a single punch could shatter a mountain. The scales hardened his defenses, making him impervious to ordinary weapons.
The blood’s raging aura condensed into a divine dragon in his desolate world, propelling his cultivation toward the eighth-level Transcendent Realm. The Desolate Devouring Art accelerated, devouring spiritual energy and dragon aura alike, while the Heavenly Dao Book etched another sequence into its pages.
Even if Elder Long were here to witness it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t believe that Liu Wuxie could refine it so swiftly.
“Eighth-level Transcendent Realm, break!” Liu Wuxie roared. His voice rang like a dragon’s cry, shaking the palace walls. The stone walls bore immortal runes, impervious even to Earth Immortals, yet his shout made them quiver faintly.
The laws of the Transcendent Realm within Liu Wuxie’s desolate world multiplied without restraint. Their sheer density surpassed what tens of thousands of cultivators at the same realm could gather in their bodies.
When violent energy coursed through his draconic meridians into the desolate world, his transformation reached new heights. His meridians had already reshaped into a dragon’s, and his bones grew terrifyingly unyielding. Cloaked in the phantom of a divine dragon, he felt certain even Primal Origin Realm cultivators would struggle to slay him.
Beyond the palace, turmoil consumed the world. Experts swarmed Liu Wuxie’s courtyard looking for him, their numbers swelling by the day. Fortunately, He Yingwu had secluded himself in the Primordial Pagoda for training; had he been present, the situation would have become far more troublesome.
Undercurrents surged across the Heavenly Dragon Sect and Mount Dragon City. The lords of Sky Cloud Star and Tranquil Meteor Star secretly hired assassins to eliminate Liu Wuxie and stirred chaos behind the scenes.
Inside the palace, Liu Wuxie spent another half-day consolidating his cultivation, stabilizing himself firmly in the late phase of the eighth-level Transcendent Realm. The dragon-blood energy fully fused into his body and altered his very essence. His blood shimmered with traces of gold, a trait of ancestral dragons. Ordinary dragons bled red; his veins now pulsed with golden vitality. The discovery stunned him.
Rising to his feet, Liu Wuxie stretched and tested his physique. He did not release his true essence; instead, he relied on his physique to practice a sequence of fist techniques.
Each punch generated a booming shockwave that rolled through the hall like thunder.
“Time to practice the Dragon-Grasping Hand,” he murmured. Elder Long had demonstrated the dragon clan’s secret art twice before; its power had left a lasting impression. In close combat, it proved nearly invincible; at higher mastery, it could conjure countless claws that struck in unison.
The Heavenly Dao Book analyzed and refined the technique into a superior form, more exquisite than the version Elder Long had taught. Within its pages, a miniature Liu Wuxie tirelessly practiced the Dragon-Grasping Hand. When he opened his eyes, understanding surged through him.
He spread both hands and unleashed his true essence. A colossal dragon claw descended from the heavens, alternating between claw and fist. Its force already bore the outline of a mythical art. Though it had not fully matured, the strike rivaled the lethality of an actual dragon-clan martial technique.
At first, his movements felt clumsy; as he persisted, the claws multiplied in the air—one, two, a dozen—until more than thirty claws crowded the hall’s ceiling and radiated oppressive power. Immersed in cultivation, Liu Wuxie lost all sense of time.
“Seize!” he roared. The dragon claws shot forward, gripped a distant boulder, and lifted it effortlessly into the air.
“Break!” The claws clenched and shattered the boulder into rubble. He executed the action swiftly and cleanly, as if he had practiced the technique for decades.
Applause echoed through the hall. Startled, Liu Wuxie looked up and saw Elder Long striding in with steady, powerful steps.
“In only a few days, you not only reached the eighth-level Transcendent Realm, you also mastered the Dragon-Grasping Hand. You’ve never failed to surprise me,” Elder Long said. He rarely praised others, but he didn’t hide his admiration for Liu Wuxie.
He had spent an entire month to reach only a lesser mastery when he first trained the Dragon-Grasping Hand; Liu Wuxie, on the other hand, mastered it in just three days, achieving two consecutive cultivation breakthroughs.
No one would believe him if he told them. Elder Long had seen countless prodigies, but never one like Liu Wuxie. Calling him a prodigy no longer sufficed; even that word failed to capture the scale of his potential.
“Thank you for your praise, Elder Long,” Liu Wuxie said, stepping forward respectfully. Without Elder Long’s intervention, reaching the eighth-level Transcendent Realm so swiftly and mastering such a formidable art would have been far harder. He felt genuine gratitude.
“I have spoken with the sect master,” Elder Long continued, his tone softening, almost teasing. “There are two pieces of news—one good, one bad. Which would you like first?” He looked at Liu Wuxie with an expression softer than the stern mask he usually wore.
“Let’s hear the good news first,” Liu Wuxie replied calmly.
“The good news is that the sect master has granted you permission to enter Mount Sumeru and retrieve a Dragon Origin Herb,” Elder Long said.
Joy flickered across Liu Wuxie’s face; this meant he could save Han Feizi.
“And the bad?” Liu Wuxie asked. He knew it would not be simple. Mount Sumeru was the burial ground of the sect’s ancestors, forbidden to outsiders. Even with the sect master’s permission, the sect would demand a steep price.
“If you wish to obtain the Dragon Origin Herb, you must place in the top three of any event at the Myriad Race Ceremony,” Elder Long said solemnly. “Only then will you be granted the herb.
“Furthermore, the charge against you for killing Deng Huaiguang will be dropped if you succeed. I have agreed to this condition on your behalf.”
He knew what the Dragon Origin Herb meant to Liu Wuxie.
Liu Wuxie’s gaze sharpened with resolve. Even if he had to cross mountains of blades or wade through seas of fire, he would secure the Dragon Origin Herb. His determination was unshakable.
“The Myriad Race Ceremony?” Liu Wuxie murmured, frowning. He had read only snippets about it in the Book Collection Pavilion.
“That’s right. The Myriad Race Ceremony is where countless races in the Indigo Bamboo Astral Domain gather for a contest held once every decade,” Elder Long replied with a nod. The grand event offered Liu Wuxie a chance to achieve his goal, not only to obtain a Dragon Origin Herb, but also to spread his name across the astral domain.
“Elder Long, which event did you register me for?” Liu Wuxie asked.
“Blacksmith,” Elder Long answered. He had witnessed Liu Wuxie’s blacksmithing and believed his talent was unmatched among his generation. Placing in the top three would be difficult, but not impossible.
The Indigo Bamboo Astral Domain teemed with hidden prodigies. Even if Liu Wuxie qualified as a monstrous genius in blacksmithing, he would probably not rank at the very peak. Elder Long had no idea that when Liu Wuxie had reforged the Heretic Blade, he had revealed only the tip of the iceberg.
“Can you tell me more about the Myriad Race Ceremony?” Liu Wuxie asked. He could not refuse the Dragon Origin Herb. One way or another, he had to compete, and he had a month to prepare for it.
Elder Long sat without hurry and began to explain.
“In the past, the Indigo Bamboo Astral Domain contained countless races, and every year, brutal battles erupted over resources. Eventually, Emperor Haoyuan proposed the Myriad Race Ceremony to determine how to allocate those resources.”
The Astral Domain contained countless forces while resources remained limited, so conflict inevitably erupted.
In those days, cultivators fought daily life-and-death battles across the Indigo Bamboo Astral Domain until the Myriad Race Ceremony took hold. To Liu Wuxie, it felt like a summit of nations convened only when mediation failed.
