The Seed Has Formed!
Within Shi Hao’s body, numerous gates stood ajar, each emitting a wisp of ethereal light that converged into a single seed. The sight was mystical—countless gates, now indistinct, exuding an aura of profound mystery. These gates resembled ancient repositories of the Dao, connected to undying realms, channeling supreme energy. Shi Hao felt an irresistible urge to pry open one of these portals and glimpse what lay beyond. Yet, for now, such an act remained impossible.
“Physical power,” murmured the woman in the distance, utterly astonished. Had he truly succeeded? She had witnessed a miracle—someone forging an unprecedented path before her eyes. It was perilous, nearly fatal, yet ultimately triumphant.
A fleeting calm settled over her before a bolt of lightning seemed to strike her soul, shaking her to the core. She realized the magnitude of this event—a path never before treaded had been conquered!
Shi Hao remained impassive, closing his eyes to reflect. The ordeal had been treacherous, deceptively smooth yet teetering on the brink of annihilation. Even now, unease gnawed at him, his skin prickling with foreboding. Why?
He sought to comprehend the seed. His Dao had taken form—a seed suspended in the deepest recesses of his being, radiating pure light, fused inseparably with his flesh and spirit. It felt complete, brimming with vitality. With a mere thought, the seed glowed, drawing power from the gates. His body surged with energy, suffused with light, as if capable of slaying gods and demons.
The sensation was exhilarating—his body and spirit at their zenith, as though he could pluck stars from the sky with a mere gesture. Yet, his disquiet persisted. Opening his eyes, their brilliance undimmed, he resolved to grow stronger.
With the seed’s success, integrating it with his treasured techniques and celestial arts would yield unparalleled results. “Where should I begin?” he pondered—enhancing offense or defense? Instinct guided him to the Willow God’s method, prioritizing survival. His skin’s involuntary tension only heightened his unease.
This bodily warning was peculiar. Were the gates within him amplifying his body’s mystique? The Willow God’s art emphasized nurturing life essence, its ultimate goal being immortality.
In an instant, countless divine chains erupted from Shi Hao’s body as the seed shone, resonating with them. His gaze deepened, piercing through illusions to grasp the essence. He deciphered the art, weaving the chains with the seed’s light, altering their patterns—reconstructing the Willow God’s method through his own Dao.
This was a monumental task! Success would be earth-shattering. Immersed in this arcane state, Shi Hao’s body glowed, enacting the Willow God’s life art. Time blurred; he felt himself as a willow seed, drifting until it settled in barren soil, parched and near death.
Then, a mist arrived. The seed drank greedily, bursting with vitality, sprouting roots that shattered the imprisoning stone. This was the power of life—frail at birth yet indomitable. Shi Hao was moved, recalling how tender shoots could split solid pavement. Now, in this meditative state, his understanding deepened.
The newborn energy was vast and potent! He became a sapling, weathering storms, growing stronger until lightning struck, reducing him to ashes—save for a single root. Years later, he revived, more resilient than before.
Was this the Willow God’s experience, encoded in the art’s foundational laws? Shi Hao deciphered further—countless destructions by thunder, later by celestial blades, then the blessings of sacrificial spirits and immortal radiance. This was a path of nine deaths and one life—the ultimate journey of existence.
“I wish to see the Willow God’s trials in the Immortal Ancient Era and learn why it descended upon Stone Village.” Yet, some imprints were too complex to fully grasp.
Time lost meaning as Shi Hao bathed in life energy, wrapped in green and gold light—symbolizing nascent vitality and tempered strength. Awakening, he had interpreted the Willow God’s art through his inner Dao, though its depth remained untested.
“You should leave,” the woman said. “With the seed within you, further enlightenment can occur elsewhere.” Shi Hao nodded, rising as tattered cocoon fragments fell away, revealing taut, unadorned skin—a return to simplicity.
“How long has it been—months? Years?” Time had blurred in cultivation. Then—panic. As he stood, a premonition of doom materialized.
A sword strike descended, aiming for his head! Not from the woman, who watched in shock. Shi Hao exhaled a blade of light, clashing with the attack. “So strong!” he gasped. The strike could decapitate a host of celestial beings.
Next, divine bells tolled, their ripples capable of annihilating legions. This was cataclysmic! “Heavenly retribution!” Shi Hao realized. His earlier unease had foreshadowed this.
The true crisis had arrived at the climax. Blades, towers, weapons of all forms rained down—an unprecedented calamity, far deadlier than any prior trial. This was eradication!
The woman was stunned. This was a path of no return—each strike potent enough to slay sect masters. The heavens punished those who defied their will. Shi Hao’s path—using his body as a seed—was anathema to the natural order, inviting utter destruction.
Others fused with perfect seeds, aligning with heaven’s will. Shi Hao sought to rival and surpass the cosmos. Even as a seed, his ambition drew divine wrath.
The weapons were thunder incarnate, overwhelming even sect masters. Shi Hao, now a sect master himself, was torn asunder, his blood staining the void. The woman paled, fearing her own path’s ruin.
Yet, amid the ashes, a seed glowed—a deception against heaven! Shi Hao’s essence endured, his body reforming. Like the Willow God, he had risen from annihilation.
This was the terror of the seed—surviving the unsurvivable. “Thank you,” Shi Hao said sincerely before departing the celestial womb. How long had he been gone? The world outside awaited.
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