The runes descended endlessly upon him, their countless intricate patterns all crystalline and translucent. Each one was an indispensable link in the chain of natural laws, irreplaceable and unmissable. Shi Hao immersed himself within them, comprehending boundless secrets, his body and soul fully devoted. In that moment, he seemed to transcend time, returning to the primordial era—an age of titans clashing and countless races flourishing. A single glance back felt as vast as eternity itself.
*Boom!*
An eagle soared across the heavens, striking down one massive star after another. A true *hou* howled beneath the night moon, its cry shattering celestial bodies into silver rain that scattered across the land. A *yinglong* danced upon the winds, tearing down divine temples from beyond the ninth heaven, sending them crashing like meteors, raising plumes of dust upon the earth.
Was this the primordial era? An age of overwhelming strength, where legends were born and supreme beings vied for dominance? Heroes and peerless beauties wove epics that stirred the soul. Yet this was merely a glimpse—a fragment of time Shi Hao witnessed through the Kunpeng’s legacy, igniting his spirit. That was an era of prodigies, a time that made hearts race.
Of course, it was also an era that only the strongest could endure. Many would never wish to be born in such times.
Shi Hao realized that the Kunpeng’s techniques were born from that very environment, inseparable from its grand backdrop. Thus, he immersed himself, striving to capture every fleeting vision. Only by understanding that era could he truly master this peerless divine ability.
As he delved deeper, golden vortices swirled around him, each rune containing profound mysteries of the world’s most supreme sequences. Gradually, the runes shifted—from blazing gold to deep black, transforming from a roc into a *kun* fish, floating within the blood pool.
Soon, Shi Hao entered a profound state of enlightenment, severed from the outside world, lost in a wondrous realm. Within the Demon Transformation Cave, tranquility reigned as the young man’s spirit soared through the void, traversing the primordial past, comprehending the ultimate art.
Meanwhile, upon the altar, battle raged with unrelenting ferocity. Blood splattered as factions clashed in madness, even venerable figures casting aside their dignity to fight desperately.
*”No! A treasure bone has fallen into the hands of the Firefin Fish clan!”*
A cry of alarm rose. Over a hundred thousand Firefin Fish, though out of water, remained formidable, their tails planted on the ground as they spewed fiery runes. Who dared challenge them?
Han Tian, wielding the Divine Illumination Lamp, blasted through a group of experts, seizing a bone before retreating to his clan.
*”Kill!”*
The beings of the Primordial Divine Mountain fought with equal desperation. Several pure-blooded creatures carved through the battlefield, securing a bone of their own.
*”All of you, back off—or die!”*
Mo Xian roared, his golden halberd sweeping like a scythe, felling rows of enemies. The altar ran red with blood as factions slaughtered one another for the Kunpeng’s legacy.
This art held immeasurable significance. Mastery could elevate a clan to dominance over the Desolate Wasteland, rendering them unrivaled. Even a single fragment was priceless, tradable for untold treasures.
The slaughter spread beyond the altar, engulfing the entire cave. Countless lives were lost, the carnage so extreme even prodigies like Mo Xian, heir of the Sea God, teetered on the brink of death. His war platform shattered, his retainers slain, he stood amidst a mountain of corpses, drenched in blood, his halberd dyed crimson.
After days of relentless battle, six bones were claimed by different factions—none securing more than one. The legacy was fragmented, scattered among land and sea powers.
For the venerables, this was disastrous. The Kunpeng’s technique, a divine boon in this era, had been divided beyond recovery.
Many refused to accept this outcome, lingering in tense standoffs. Some even sought *Tianhuang*, the legendary weapon, only to be crushed by its unleashed chaos.
*”Unless the restrictions vanish, we must wait for the venerables to claim it!”*
*”Elder, let us retreat. This place is too dangerous.”*
*”Easier said than done. Beyond this sea lies even greater peril.”*
Even those who secured bones remained wary, knowing the true war had yet to begin. Once outside, the venerables’ true forms would clash—splitting the heavens, flooding the skies with blood.
Some factions, like those of the Primordial Divine Mountain, remained confident, certain their elders awaited them.
Finally, messengers escaped the sea, igniting chaos across the North Sea. The moment the first bone emerged, titanic hands descended from the sky—fingers larger than mountain ranges—snatching violently.
*”How dare you!”*
A colossal claw, wreathed in violet energy, clashed with the silver hand. A golden wing sliced down from the ninth heaven, cleaving the sea as supreme beings battled above.
The North Sea became a slaughterhouse. Venerables clashed, turning the waters red. Those who emerged suffered grievous losses, forced back into the forbidden depths.
This war would be remembered for generations, a cataclysm where no faction claimed all six bones. The Sea God Island, Divine Mountain, and others each held fragments, becoming targets for the relentless.
With a thunderous roar, the Kunpeng’s nest shattered, sinking into the abyss. The altar crumbled, its treasures—*Tianhuang*, the Black Ruler, the Golden Fan, the Dragonfang Dagger—vanishing into the depths.
Venerables who ventured in hesitated, sensing lingering restrictions, and ultimately withdrew.
The North Sea War left deep scars. Rumors spoke of multiple venerables perishing, their true forms obliterated. For months, sea creatures gathered, devouring the blood-infused waters for spiritual essence.
Within the Demon Transformation Cave, Shi Hao remained oblivious, his focus unbroken. He had mastered the runes, their transformations etched into his mind.
The golden symbols darkened, morphing into a *kun* fish that enveloped him. With a flick of its tail, they submerged into the blood pool.
The moment they entered, the molten-bright blood surged forth, submerging them.
*”Kunpeng’s blood!”*
Shi Hao’s eyes snapped open in shock. The blood carried ancient knowledge—within the pool lay a single drop of the Kunpeng’s true blood, a treasure of heaven-defying potency.
Despite the eons, its divine essence endured, nurtured by spiritual springs, birthing endless runes. A single drop had transformed the spring into this blood pool, a gift for the inheritor—to temper bone and marrow.
This was a supreme opportunity. Though Shi Hao’s body was already formidable, his wounds from the altar battles had nearly claimed his life. Now, this drop of blood revealed its staggering worth.
Instantly, his body crackled with energy. Bones reforged, organs resonated like tempered steel, and his flesh gleamed anew. When he opened his eyes again, his wounds had vanished—his body pristine, his spirit radiant.
In the days that followed, he refined his comprehension, engraving the final Kunpeng technique—a single, unfathomably complex rune, more intricate than the starry sky itself.
This was the true Kunpeng Art, ranked among the Ten Supreme Techniques of the Primordial Era. Mastery would take time, but he had imprinted it perfectly within his mind.
Finally, he began *”nurturing the spirit.”* With the flawless Kunpeng technique in hand, he could perfect the third stage of the Spirit Nurturing Realm—*”raising spirits within the cave heavens.”*
*”Once I complete this, I can finally return… It’s been over two years.”*
Shi Hao murmured to himself, his journey nearing its next chapter.
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