Desolate Devouring Art - Chapter 1307 - Eighth-Level Origin Conversion Realm
Chapter 1307 – Eighth-Level Origin Conversion Realm
Everyone held their breath. If it had been anyone else, the moment wouldn’t have drawn such attention, but Liu Wuxie’s deeds over the past two days had shocked them all.
“He’s nothing to worry about. He must have thrown that profound talisman together at the last minute. There’s no way he’ll surpass Senior Brother Mo Hong,” the Grand Unity Sect disciples prayed silently. They assumed he’d crafted it in haste and that it couldn’t top their senior brother’s work.
The profound talisman streaked through the air and fused with the ancestral talisman. The instant they merged, it flared like a rising sun, wrapping the ancestral talisman in radiance as countless runes intertwined.
A staggering scene followed. The damaged portion of the Fire Ancestral Talisman began to repair itself beneath the outpouring light.
“That’s impossible! Impossible!” a Grand Unity Sect elder cried, collapsing to the ground, unable to accept what he saw.
The other races stood dumbfounded; only the Heavenly Dragon Sect cheered.
“His profound talisman didn’t just earn the ancestral talisman’s acknowledgment—it also repaired its inner space. Could he be Emperor Haoyuan’s heir?” everyone whispered as suspicion spread.
It wasn’t the first time they wondered about it, but now, it seemed plausible.
Liu Wuxie’s recognition suddenly made sense.
Somewhere in the vast universe, Emperor Haoyuan’s eyes snapped open.
“Kid, thank you for helping me repair the ancestral talisman. It would be rude not to return the favor—I’ll give you a great gift,” Emperor Haoyuan murmured. Only someone whom countless beings admire can become a planet lord.
Emperor Haoyuan had risen to fame hundreds of thousands of years ago. In character and standing, he remained beyond reproach.
With Liu Wuxie’s profound talisman aiding it, many fissures within the ancestral talisman vanished, leaving it more complete than before. A gentle radiance then surged from the talisman and wrapped around Liu Wuxie.
A strange sight unfolded as the soft light lifted him into the air and streamed into his body.
“This is…” Many rubbed their eyes in shock.
“Immortal radiance! That’s immortal radiance!” an Earth Immortal cried, half-frenzied at the sight of Liu Wuxie receiving its baptism.
“It must be Emperor Haoyuan!” Envious voices rippled through the crowd.
As the ancestral talisman reflected it, the immortal radiance crossed countless realms and descended upon White Moon Valley, enveloping Liu Wuxie.
Though faint, it was more than enough for his current level. His aura surged—he broke through at once, and his cultivation drove toward the eighth-level Origin Conversion Realm.
In just two months, he had climbed from the fourth to the eighth level of the Origin Conversion Realm. The speed of his rise stole everyone’s breath. Hundreds of thousands of Pure Yang Pills vanished and became pure yang energy that flooded the desolate world.
The Grand Unity Sect ground their teeth as the comparison stung. Mo Hong’s profound talisman was powerful, but it couldn’t compare to Liu Wuxie’s.
“Liu Wuxie is really lucky to receive Emperor Haoyuan’s acknowledgment,” many remarked, sighing in envy, yet their envy changed nothing. His talisman was too breathtaking. It helped repair a portion of the ancestral talisman, so receiving the baptism of immortal radiance in return felt natural.
Conversely, if Emperor Haoyuan hadn’t responded after Liu Wuxie’s aid, it would have made him seem petty.
The talisman event ended with joy for some and bitterness for others. The Heavenly Dragon Sect’s upper echelons rejoiced, while the Grand Unity Sect wore grim faces.
News spread swiftly—Liu Wuxie had won the talisman event. Hua Feiyu met a white-haired elder, and then he opened the rune on his palm. The rune blossomed into words.
“Elder Han, I won’t impose any longer. I’ll take my leave,” Hua Feiyu said, departing the Spirit Sealing Institute.
“Farewell, Sect Master!” The white-haired elder rose and saw him off. Whatever they’d discussed, only they knew.
The ancestral talisman slowly faded while Liu Wuxie savored the sharp rise in his cultivation. When his eyes snapped open, the space around him trembled, and a powerful aura rippled outward.
“What a terrifying aura! Is he really at the eighth-level Origin Conversion Realm?” the crowd murmured, eyelids twitching.
Even now, few could clearly gauge Liu Wuxie’s combat strength. In the blacksmithing event, he relied on a spiritual array; in the talisman event, on a profound talisman. Those who had seen him fight in person rarely survived.
Silence settled over the Grand Unity Sect as another championship slipped from their grasp.
“Damn it!” Sang Lu slammed his fist, venting his rage. The Grand Unity Sect had sent four thousand disciples to the Myriad Race Ceremony and had just over three thousand left. One man had cost them more than six hundred lives.
“Kill him at any cost in the alchemy event. If you can’t kill him, ruin his pill. We can’t afford any more mistakes in the third event,” Sang Lu said, drawing a long breath to rein in his fury as his gaze swept across the disciples.
The alchemy event was their last chance. Humans rarely fared well in the Divine Sun-Shooting Tower; the final event favored other races, while humans held the edge in the first three.
“Don’t worry, Elder San. He’s dead for sure,” many disciples declared, stepping forward with rage on their faces. Family and friends lay among the fallen, and they would not rest until Liu Wuxie died.
“Go rest and adjust your state as much as possible,” Sang Lu said with a nod. The alchemy event would begin in three days.
When Liu Wuxie returned to the warship, many disciples stepped up to congratulate him. Even the Earth Immortal elders couldn’t hide their excitement; it had been a long time since the Heavenly Dragon Sect had done this well in the Myriad Race Ceremony.
Once again, he received the same reward—a seventh-grade spiritual talisman, astral stones, and Pure Yang Pills. Yet these meant little after his breakthrough to the eighth level of the Origin Conversion Realm with the immortal radiance’s baptism.
“Use the cultivation chamber,” Zhuge Ming said.
Liu Wuxie nodded. He needed time to consolidate his breakthrough. Entering the chamber again, he sat and circulated the Desolate Devouring Art, drawing spiritual energy from every direction. He also refined the hundred thousand Pure Yang Pills the sect had awarded him.
“Elder Zhuge, why don’t we let him forfeit the alchemy event?” Elder Long asked after seeking out Zhuge Ming. He intended to have Liu Wuxie withdraw. He could foresee the Grand Unity Sect going all out to kill Liu Wuxie, and after watching him grow this far, he couldn’t bear the thought of him dying here.
“We’ve already submitted his name—equivalent to signing the pact. No one can change it now,” Zhuge Ming replied, shaking his head. A trace of difficulty flickered in his eyes. The sect master had also sent word for Liu Wuxie to continue.
Unaware of the sect master’s plan, he couldn’t say more.
Elder Long sighed at the answer.
Time slipped by. Three days later, the alchemy event began.
When Liu Wuxie emerged from the cultivation chamber, the immortal radiance had withdrawn into him. He no longer projected the overwhelming aura of three days prior, but it only made him feel more dangerous.
“It’s filled with danger—we will send all of you to the depths of the Netherworld. The Netherworld has eighteen treacherous layers. The pill you refine must use the spiritual herbs there,” Zhuge Ming explained.
The Netherworld was nothing like the prior arenas. Zhuge Ming’s gaze paused on Liu Wuxie—a brief look urging him to return alive, even if he failed to place in the rankings. One glance was enough for them to understand each other’s message.
Many disciples had failed to place well, but they had grown immensely through the Myriad Race Ceremony. The judges would automatically disqualify anyone who broke through to the Void Realm—that had always been the rule.
“What’s the Netherworld?” many disciples asked, unfamiliar with the place.
“Where the nether clan lives,” replied those who knew.
Thousands of races had come to compete, but some had not, such as the nether clan. Experts aboard the warships stepped forward, formed seals, and opened a space-time portal to send their disciples to the Netherworld.
At the end of the event, they would open the portal again to bring them back.
In a blink, hundreds of Quasi-Heaven Gaze Realm experts tore open a spatial rift and constructed a space-time portal. It resembled an interstellar teleportation array, but with a limited duration. Through it, one could cross into another world.
One after another, participants rose into the air and vanished into the portal.
“Wuxie, be careful in there,” Elder Long said, patting his shoulder.
Liu Wuxie nodded and vanished from the warship, stepping into the portal. The moment he entered, dazzling light surged around him, and he felt as though he had crossed into another world before landing in boundless darkness.
When he regained control of himself, he found himself in a dim land where flames jetted from the ground. Looking down, he saw honeycomb terrain, each cell coughing up fire.
One misstep and a person would burn. This was Netherflame—extremely potent but manageable with vigilance. Yet the actual danger of the Netherworld wasn’t the flame; it was the nether clan.
People said the nether clan commanded nether power—masters of darkness who could even rouse one’s inner demon. They were foes even Liu Wuxie preferred not to provoke, especially with a wisp of black miasma lodged in his heart—an inner demon the grandmaster’s pill had only suppressed temporarily back on the True Martial Continent.
Once the pill’s efficacy had waned, the inner demon would surge again. Refining pills from spiritual herbs one had gathered in the Netherworld would be brutally difficult.
If participants could refine only ordinary pills, the event would lose all spectacle, and the judges would find it hard to determine the victor. After all, nearly everyone knew pillcraft; if hundreds of thousands of them were to refine such pills together, the appraisal alone would take a year.
By raising the difficulty, the event would cull the mediocre, just like how one had to collect runes in the ancestral talisman during the previous round. The effort to gather enough runes eliminated a large portion of the participants.
