For Jing Qian, the Sacrificial Banquet Aura was something he absolutely had to obtain. It was directly tied to his progress on the Dao; there was no room for negligence.
Through the jade slip provided by Fan Zhuoyi, he had already mastered every detail concerning the upcoming Academy Banquet.
Under normal circumstances, with his current foundation, there would be no difficulty at all in claiming a share of the Banquet's aura and being chosen by whichever top-tier law lineage he desired.
But his chosen goal was none other than Pure Yang Ruins.
Having personally witnessed the Blood River Sect join forces with Wuchang Temple in their hunt for Chi Ling, Jing Qian could already guess which factions were arrayed against Pure Yang.
Yet after carefully studying the information in hand, he realized it was far more than simple targeting. What was happening was a death-strangle, an alliance of sects determined to extinguish the very last vestiges of the Pure Yang Heaven's legacy.
The records showed that in the last three hundred years, the Pure Yang Ruins had only managed to recruit four disciples through the Academy Banquet.
And all four had, for one reason or another, perished prematurely.
The notes explicitly warned Fan clan disciples never to choose Pure Yang Ruins, branding it an ominous place, a path of no return.
The contrast to the other elite lineages, all deemed highly favorable, could not have been sharper.
But Jing Qian's heart was already set. Out of the twelve supreme Dao lineages, it was Pure Yang Ruins that had long since captured his gaze.
For him, entering Pure Yang meant the chance to witness swordsmanship at its truest and most profound. That desire was rooted in his heart, unwavering in his will, and entirely clear in his intent, an unshakable wish.
The path of seeking the Dao was no child's play, no arena for half-measures or compromises.
Even as he glimpsed the chains of cause and effect binding Pure Yang's fate, he paid them no heed. In fact, he felt more motivated than ever.
We sword cultivators exist to face difficulty head-on to meet edge with edge!
...
Jing Qian secluded himself for a full ten days, refining the Fate-Locking Needle completely into his system.
By then, Fan Zhuoyan had already been waiting outside his door for some time.
Jing Qian called him in. The youth spoke quickly, excitement shining in his eyes:
"Senior brother, I have already completed my body-burning and fate-binding. I've awakened an innate Life Pattern! I beg the elder to act again and remove another Fate-Locking Needle for me!"
Jing Qian nodded and immediately cast his Fate-Reading Technique over the boy to examine his condition:
Fan Zhuoyan
Lifespan: 94 years
Life Measure: 5 taels 3 qian / 6 taels 8 qian
Life Essence: 7 (White Fang)
Spiritual Constructs: Fate-Locking Needle ×2
Life Pattern: Weaving Thunder (Golden Root)
The boy had truly gone from misfortune to fortune; his luck had reversed completely.
On his second body-burning and fate-binding attempt, he had awakened a golden root life pattern, one renowned for its strength. His Life Essence had also surged upward.
Once Jing Qian removed the second Fate-Locking Needle for him, he would immediately become a prodigy with a forged destiny of Spiritual Constructs, a true seed of greatness.
Jing Qian, pleased to help others succeed, wasted no time. He summoned the power of his Entwining Karma Pattern, drew out the second needle, and this time did not separate it. Instead, he guided it into perfect fusion with Zhuoyan's newly awakened Weaving Thunder pattern.
When the process ended, Zhuoyan's life measure plummeted to:
2 taels / 6 taels 8 qian
Jing Qian's cultivation potential had undergone a qualitative leap.
When young Fan finally awoke from his meditation, he could feel the lively surge of Life Essence coursing through him and the stability and vastness of his newly freed sea of consciousness. His entire foundation felt transformed.
More importantly, the golden needle in his hand, now a Spiritual Construct, had become his sharpest weapon.
Unlike his elder sister, Fan Zhuoyi, his Weaving Thunder life pattern and the Fate-Locking Needle meshed seamlessly. The fusion not only enhanced his cultivation but also directly amplified his offensive power.
He flicked his wrist and, with electromagnetic force driving the needle, unleashed a devastating railgun blast.
Jing Qian's eyes lit with interest. He raised his hand, sending out a blade of Skinning Sword Light to clash with the thunderous railgun mid-air.
The two forces collided violently, bursting with surges of law and power, the backlash tumoring young Fan head over heels.
Jing Qian nodded and said:
"Your system packs quite the punch. Ordinary Dragon-Elephant cultivators won't last a single strike from that needle!"
"What you need now is to refine another Life Pattern. Once you do, we can unlock the second Fate-Locking Needle. With two needles in hand, your offensive power will leap again."
"But remember, if you want to save as much Fate Weight as possible, the higher the grade of this new Life Pattern, the better."
In truth, Jing Qian had just forged a powerful Spiritual Construct cultivator. Though the boy still could not compare to him, the fact that he could, freshly ascended, already crush ordinary Dragon-Elephant cultivators with a single strike meant his potential was limitless.
Fan Zhuoyan was ecstatic. He bowed deeply and declared:
"Many thanks for your guidance, elder brother. I'll immediately devote myself to refining a new Life Pattern!"
"I'll also join you at this year's Academy Banquet!"
Jing Qian nodded in return:
"Then you'd better hurry. Only half a year remains. If I'm taken into a Dao lineage, finding me to remove another needle will be far more troublesome."
The boy, hearing this, hurriedly excused himself to dive back into his cultivation research.
When he was gone, Jing Qian too disappeared, slipping directly into his Void Realm.
There he crouched beside Little Corn, flicking its kernel head to wake it up.
"Xiaomi, is the bait ready? I've prepared the hook and line. It's time to try fishing the void!"
The corn spirit, still drowsy from feasting on Xiang Yu's remains, blinked awake, mumbled a few nonsense words, and then said eagerly:
"I've been ready all along, waiting for you!"
Jing Qian took out his own Fate-Locking Needle and held it forward.
"Then let's begin."
Little Corn bent its three-inch body, lowered its tiny head, and rammed itself against the needle.
The single golden kernel on its head slid neatly onto the hook.
The needle-hook was bound tight with shimmering threads of causality, extending all the way back into Jing Qian's hand.
He lifted it, feeling the connection. The binding was seamless, the bait could not slip free.
The kernel glowed faintly, exuding a trace of pure Dao-rhyme, like a pill of immortality.
Even Jing Qian nearly leaned forward to devour it himself, so irresistible was its aura.
Indeed, the Little Corn bloodline was born to be the supreme bait for fishing the void; its form and essence matched the art perfectly.
"Alright… I'm starting."
Jing Qian's tone was solemn.
Little Corn twisted its tiny waist excitedly, squeaking:
"Start! Start! My father told me I'd definitely succeed! His first cast hooked a third-rank dragon. I'll surpass him for sure!"
Jing Qian nearly choked on his own spit.
"Why don't you go fish up your father instead…"
Still, despite the jest, his anticipation surged. His first attempt at fishing the void was about to begin.
The treatise Guerrilla Tactics Across Rivers, Lakes, and Seas stated clearly: the art was not exclusive to second-rank grandmasters.
As long as one controlled a personal cave-world and possessed a metal-attribute space Life Pattern, one qualified to pierce the boundary of realms and cast into the intersections of myriad worlds.
With the right tools and techniques, even lower-third-rank cultivators could attempt it.
Jing Qian's Sumeru power and his Void Realm more than met the requirement.
But with his current level of cultivation, the risks were severe. When fishing the void, one never knew whether you were catching the fish or feeding it.
Yet for all its dangers, void fishing was the supreme method of resource plunder.
Every creature dragged in from another realm carried with it oceans of essence, mana, and often treasures or even powerful Spiritual Constructs.
For the angler, each cast was a rare windfall.
What's more, the art could be turned into a lethal weapon: hooking an enemy, dragging them across the void into one's cave-world, battering their body with spacetime's crushing pressure before finishing them under domain suppression.
Against such methods, leaping a realm or even two was not uncommon.
For void fishing, the maxim was simple: with line and hook in hand, the weak catch nothing, but the strong reel in worlds.
Moreover, nothing that was hauled up from the void would go to waste
not a wisp of essence, not a drop of blood or flesh.
Each catch also carried with it the time-space aura of another world, which was especially beneficial for the growth of one's cave-world.
Across countless years of cultivation history, generation after generation of mighty cultivators had experimented with and refined methods of fishing the void, leaving behind endless streams of experience.
And the inheritance Jing Qian had obtained from the second-rank True Corn was nothing less than the culmination of all those traditions.
Following its guidance, he pieced together the required tackle as best he could, and at last, he was ready for his first true attempt!
Forming a strange hand seal, he used the power of Sumeru to stir the origin of his Void Realm.
In an instant, his divine sense soared upward, rushing endlessly higher until he arrived at a convergence of time and space.
The process was smooth as silk, a display of the power of a Heaven-tier life pattern.
The place looked like a tidal sea of chaos, endlessly surging above the boundless expanse of the Void Realm.
Jing Qian appeared there, holding his Fate-Locking Needle wrapped with causal threads. Following the instructions of his inheritance, he cast his "hook."
Guided by secret techniques, the hook bearing a single glowing corn kernel pierced into the time-space rift and vanished.
The other end of the fishing line was securely tied to the Void Furnace, anchored with utmost stability.
Now came the moment for Little Corn to shine!
The tiny stalk twisted its little waist and shuffled over to the line. It extended a slender root and rested it gently upon the thread.
Then, channeling its peculiar innate power, it infused the line, connecting with the kernel bait it had produced itself. This was the most crucial part of void fishing: luring the catch.
Would it be an empty cast or sudden fortune? All depended on this!
Meanwhile, Jing Qian had already withdrawn from the time-space crossing. He gathered a wisp of Bone-Peeling Sword Qi and crouched beside Little Corn with the civet kitten. Together, they watched the little sprout "seriously" pluck at the line.
The civet asked doubtfully:
"My lord… is this thing reliable? It looks like nothing but a bean sprout."
Jing Qian answered calmly:
"Don't worry. If it fails, I'll give you that yin-core instead."
At that, the civet's eyes lit up, malice bubbling in its heart as it started cursing furiously for the corn sprout to fail.
Jing Qian, meanwhile, flipped through his copy of Guerrilla Tactics Across Rivers, Lakes, and Seas, comparing its knowledge to Little Corn's "technique."
That manual devoted lengthy chapters to the art of controlling the line during void fishing, vividly naming it the Art of String Control.
Methods like nine feints and one pull, slow lift, sudden jerk, and so forth were considered advanced techniques, greatly reducing the chance of empty casts.
At first, Jing Qian thought Little Corn's motions seemed authentic, as if it truly had inherited family teachings in line control.
But after watching closely for some time, he realized in exasperation the little thing was bluffing!
It was only putting on a good act, imitating the grave demeanor of a fishing master, but with no real skill behind it.
What Jing Qian didn't know was that Little Corn had spent years sprouting atop True Corn's head, witnessing countless fishing sessions even as a seed. Though it couldn't replicate the results, it had copied the air of mastery perfectly: serious eyes, confident gestures, the full posture of a veteran angler.
Jing Qian no longer expected much, treating this only as practice.
But then, suddenly, change struck!
"It's coming!"
Little Corn stiffened and squeaked:
"Second layer of the Eyeless Hell, northeast wind position! Master, lift in thirty breaths!"
The fishing line trembled violently as the void rippled with blood-colored waves.
Jing Qian frowned.
"What nonsense about northeast and hell layers… you're spouting dreams!"
But he didn't hesitate. At the critical moment, he pulled hard, guiding the line with his Entwining Karma life pattern.
The thread that had once felt light as air suddenly grew crushingly heavy!
And so, on their very first cast, Jing Qian and Little Corn, under the shield of the beginner's protection period, had hooked a massive catch!
...
Far away, in the southwestern seas of the Feathered Tuo Root Realm, a towering mountain pierced the clouds.
For countless years, thunderclouds had gathered and clashed above it, pouring down endless bolts of lightning that blanketed the entire range. Beneath those storms sprawled nest after nest of great birds.
This was the nesting ground of the Thunderbird clan. Among them, they cultivated two fourth-rank Star-Seizers, seven fifth-rank Earth Fiends, and even one mighty great demon.
Yet one particular Thunderbird stood out.
It was the only sixth-rank in the flock, ironically, the weakest of them all.
Somehow tainted by strange bloodlines, its body was utterly bald, not a single feather left, looking nothing like its kin with their dazzling violet plumage.
Because of this, it was shunned by the clan, forced to survive on scraps, its cultivation painfully slow. Were it not for the fact that it had hatched before their very eyes, it would have long ago been driven out.
On this day, as the bald Thunderbird lay in its nest absorbing thunder essence, it suddenly sensed an odd ripple of space.
Curious, it reached out with its power and drew forth a crystal-clear seed from a hidden fold in the void.
The Thunderbird's eyes gleamed. With a glance, it knew this was no common object. At the very least, it was of upper third-rank, priceless beyond compare.
Ecstatic, it thought:
At last, my fortunes turn! A treasure like this, falling into my claws of its own will if I can refine it, my cultivation will soar!
But just as it rejoiced, a smaller Thunderbird swooped down, slammed it into the ground, and stood on its head in disdain.
"Featherless wretch! Where did you steal this True Seed of the Void from?"
"Such a treasure belongs to me! You are unworthy."
Without hesitation, the smaller Thunderbird swallowed the seed whole.
Though younger, this one's rank and standing were far above the bald outcast.
Its bloodline was powerful, and it had already awakened the life pattern of Thunder's Command. When it advanced to Earth Fiend, it had even been blessed by the Dao itself, receiving a Heaven-Bestowed Title.
Such titles were marks of the Great Dao, granted only to true prodigies, a dual recognition of limitless potential and overwhelming combat power.
Across the myriad worlds, among the billions of clans, only those who receive a title can be called true Seeds of the Great Dao.
This young Thunderbird had obtained a lower-grade Heaven-Bestowed Title, Child of Thunder. Perfectly suited to its thunder attribute, the title greatly amplified its Command Lightning life pattern, sharpening its combat power and easing its cultivation.
For an Earth Fiend–realm being to bear even a lower-grade title meant its strength and status were equal to that of an untitled Star-Seizer.
Indeed, within the Thunderbird clan itself, this so-called Child of Thunder stood above even another Star-Seizer who lacked a title.
Thus, when it snatched away the hairless one's cultivation resources, no one so much as batted an eye.
The priceless True Seed of the Void entered the Thunderbird's belly, transforming into pure essence and merging into its power cycle.
A wave of intense Daoic ecstasy flooded into its consciousness, drowning it in bliss and illusions as it embarked on a supreme journey of enlightenment.
Within its vision, it rampaged unstoppably, gods fell before it, Buddhas perished beneath its claws, tearing through the entire Feathered Tuo Root Realm.
It even performed the impossible: slaying two titled Star-Seizers, seizing their titles, and ascending to the upper third rank. In its dream, it became nothing less than a god-ancestor.
But to the hairless Thunderbird beneath it, what it saw was simply this so-called genius convulsing madly after swallowing the seed.
Then, the prodigy shrieked aloud:
"I've ascended!"
And in a flash of lightning, it shot skyward and vanished.
"Caw!!"
From the nests below, a fourth-rank Thunderbird ten times larger soared upward, hurtling toward the spatial rift.
Its divine sense swept furiously, searching for its descendant, yet found nothing.
At that moment, a snow-white phoenix drifted gracefully into view, its voice like music:
"Another has taken the bait. Our Feathered Tuo Root Realm has been targeted!"
"Thunder Ancestor, I intend to strike the Assembly Bell, summoning the great saints of winged, scaled, and rooted clans. You will come with me. Unless we eradicate this angel, our realm shall never know peace!"
…
The greedy Child of Thunder, beguiled by the corn kernel, had completely lost its mind. The fishhook formed from the Fate-Locking Needle pierced through its soul and flesh, hauling it across realms and endless void until it was dragged into the Void Realm.
There it lay: dazed, body mangled, barely able to resist.
Jing Qian, who had long awaited this moment, showed no mercy. As the terrifying thunder-bird broke through the world's membrane and appeared before him, he unleashed his prepared Bone-Severing Sword Light, one strike through the heart, leaving a gaping hole in its chest.
Then, dozens of Skin-Flaying sword beams, with tenfold shadows to match, tore into it. Feathers ripped away, flesh carved off, bones cracked until the fifth-rank Thunderbird was no more.
The civet, quick-witted, snatched up two massive wings and dragged them to the Void Furnace to roast.
Meanwhile, Little Corn, certain it had done great deeds, proudly dragged the thunderbird's priceless heart to its feet, claiming it for itself. In its childish voice, it chirped:
"See how awesome I am!"
But Jing Qian paid it no heed.
Because at the very instant he slew the Thunderbird, an extraordinary Daoic aura descended upon him, shaking his sea of consciousness.
A Heaven-Bestowed Title of his own was quietly condensing!
In the Scripture of Yama's Void Cycle, there is a chapter called the Title Canon, as important as the Life-Furnace Canon.
Jing Qian had studied it before. He knew what a title meant, but he had never imagined he could condense one while still only at the Dragon-Elephant Realm.
The canon records: when cultivators of the Yama Path seek longevity and ascend to Life Extension, those with sufficient foundation may inscribe their power upon the Tower of Yama's Great Dao, and be granted a lower-grade Heaven-Bestowed Title: Child of Yama.
Those so titled are the true heirs of the Yama lineage, qualified to succeed as heads of the sect.
Within the Yingfu Domain, the greatest prodigies of the age, Child of Yama, Heir of Ying, and Child of Pure Yang each bore Heaven-Bestowed Titles of their respective Dao lineages.
And among all the supreme sects, only these three could glimpse the truth of titles as early as the Life Extension stage.
Other sects, while not without titles, had to wait until the middle third ranks, accumulating slowly before they could condense them.
Jing Qian had never expected to claim such fortune himself. Yet by slaying this Thunderbird, he had seized precisely that.
For the canon also states: besides receiving titles through cultivation breakthroughs, one may also plunder the Heaven-Bestowed Title of an enemy by killing them across realms.
Such spoils become nourishment for one's own title to ascend.
For example, in the Yama lineage, a cultivator who holds the lower-grade title Child of Yama can, by seizing two more lower-grade titles, merge them into a single middle-grade title: Yama Emperor.
And if one were to seize eight middle-grade titles thereafter, it would evolve into the upper-grade title: True Lord of Yama's Void Wheel, a name of infinite mystery and unfathomable might.
These were matters far beyond Jing Qian's current strength. But with this Thunderbird's fall, he had been gifted an unimaginable leap forward, his very first personal Heaven-Bestowed Title.
From this day forth, he could rightfully call himself
Child of Sumeru.
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