After three months of grueling tempering beneath the sea, Shi Hao succeeded—his flesh had become spirit. At this stage, his transformation reached its utmost limit, an indescribable epiphany. The moment one achieves this state, they immediately sense that they have arrived at that pinnacle. Radiant spiritual light shone from within and without, merging seamlessly, his entire body unified as one. Like a divine Buddha in meditation, an aura enveloped him, drawing spiritual energy from all directions into his flesh, refining his true self.
The crystalline membrane that once coated his bones and organs shattered now, igniting into radiant light before vanishing. In its place surged a stream of pure brilliance, flowing into his flesh, bones, and organs. No longer was a mere membrane needed—spiritual radiance now welled up naturally, nourishing every inch of his body, unrestricted to just the surface of his bones. Shi Hao knew he had truly succeeded. The signs matched the legends—the deep-rooted spiritual seed, the spontaneous surge of wisdom’s light—he had stepped onto this path.
Now, all that remained was to guide this wisdom-light, nurturing the spiritual seed, allowing it to take root and sprout. Through this, he would align every strand of runes within his body, solidifying his foundation.
“I shall guide it now,” he murmured, adjusting all the runes coursing through his body, forming rivers of divine power that surged toward his limbs and bones, weaving into a vast network. The strength of his flesh was inseparable from this process. Constructing one’s own runes was an immensely difficult task—since ancient times, humans had imitated fierce beasts and divine birds before finally developing their own bone texts, gradually growing stronger.
At the Spirit Transformation Realm, one gained the qualification to shape these runes—not as treasure techniques, but as something far more fundamental. These runes would provide an inexhaustible source of power. Having already achieved spiritual flesh, Shi Hao now stood at the peak of this stage. All that remained was to arrange his runes—even if the initial constructs were imperfect, his spiritual body could compensate for any flaws.
Yet, despite this, Shi Hao remained deep in thought, hesitating to act. Many ideas flashed through his mind until, in a sudden moment of clarity, he recalled that mysterious bone. What had once been incomprehensible now made perfect sense—like a divine revelation.
“Yes, the *Primordial True Record* provides the answers,” Shi Hao exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
The *Primordial True Record* was shrouded in mystery. When the Willow God descended through the heavens amidst a storm of lightning, taking root in Stone Village, this lustrous white bone was the only artifact it brought. It had sternly warned that this bone must never be revealed, lest calamity strike.
The bone bore no treasure techniques—only runes and records of divine battles, some of them profoundly arcane. Now, Shi Hao finally understood—these were the most coveted bone-text diagrams for the Spirit Transformation Realm. It explained everything from the most fundamental principles, profound and boundless, yet approached from the simplest truths, simplifying complexity. It contained too many mysteries.
Page by page, Shi Hao studied, gaining insights. In an instant, runes began rearranging themselves within him, aligning with the Spirit Transformation Realm. His body shone like a waking deity, as if a life imprint was forming within him, guarding his form and spirit as he meditated in the void.
The *Primordial True Record* contained countless bone texts, each a perfect answer to the world’s most fundamental truths.
“The simplest, the most unadorned—these are also the most enduring, tested through the ages, proving their correctness,” Shi Hao murmured.
Individually, each rune was unremarkable. But combined, they transformed the mundane into the miraculous. Arranged within the body, evolving in the Spirit Transformation Realm, they became truly awe-inspiring.
“This is from the True Hou Clan, this from the Black Tortoise Clan, this from the Qiongqi Clan, this from the Taowu Clan…” Shi Hao whispered. Each simple, unadorned rune contained traces of these clans’ patterns. Together, they formed something entirely different.
As he studied, countless combinations emerged. His spiritual flesh autonomously selected and rearranged the runes within him, forming a radiant imprint. The more optimally arranged, the greater the power unleashed.
Time passed—how long, he did not know. Shi Hao did not blindly copy but instead entered a state of enlightenment, selecting and arranging the runes most suited to him. This was the choice of both his heart and his spiritual flesh.
Finally, the runes within him fell into order, no longer chaotic. With a single thought, they flowed like water, merging with his flesh, organs, and bones—no longer a mere membrane, but fully integrated.
He had succeeded. His flesh had fully become spirit, reaching perfection in this stage. In an instant, his combat power surged. The runes within him provided boundless, unfathomable strength, as if an eternal divine furnace now resided within him, endlessly fueling him with runic flames.
Shi Hao erupted from the sea, waves churning as he emerged, gazing into the distance. The vast ocean stretched endlessly, teeming with cultivators who turned to him in surprise.
“Another young cultivator has failed. They always think they can emulate the Kunpeng’s tempering methods, believing they can reach that level. How naive. Not everyone can be a Kunpeng,” an elderly cultivator sighed, using Shi Hao as a cautionary tale for his disciples.
The Little Rascal rubbed his nose, speechless—he had become a negative example.
“So, little brother, was it cold or hot down there? How did it feel?” a middle-aged man teased.
“The Yang Extreme Cave was quite warm and comfortable. Though I don’t know about its deepest depths—I’ll explore further next time,” Shi Hao replied.
“Puffing yourself up, are you? In the last three months, nearly ten thousand cultivators have gone down there, and most were reduced to ashes before even getting close!”
“Exactly! And the Profound Ice Abyss has frozen thousands—none who approached survived!”
The crowd murmured, their voices tinged with lingering fear.
Over the past three months, battles around the Kunpeng’s Nest had intensified. Initially, only top-tier factions knew of its emergence, but now countless rogue cultivators and powerful beings had flocked to the scene. Even distant ocean overlords—Divine Mountain lords, Sea God Island ancestors—had risked their lives to join the fray.
The competition had grown fiercer, the atmosphere tense. Several youths had carved out fearsome reputations, their might likened to reborn sea gods and war deities. Rumors claimed they had slain opponents beyond the Spirit Transformation Realm, standing invincible in their tier—as if gods themselves had descended.
“Hmm?” Shi Hao frowned as he emerged from the sea. The Kunpeng’s Nest seemed different now—shrouded in mist, its golden surface rippling as if runes were condensing upon it.
What was happening? He was stunned.
This was no ordinary anomaly. Sensing a profound secret, he ignored the crowd, stepping across the sea to a quiet spot to observe intently.
Fully immersed, he watched the massive nest shift from gold to black, runes rising and imprinting upon the void. Eventually, he deciphered fragmented primordial runes—belonging to the Kunpeng!
This discovery shocked him. How could this be? Runes were manifesting from the nest itself, forming the Kunpeng’s shape. Was the treasure technique revealing itself?
He glanced around, checking if others noticed—but they seemed oblivious. To confirm, he questioned a few nearby beings, only to find they sensed nothing.
In that moment, Shi Hao’s heart surged with excitement. He had a theory—to obtain the Kunpeng’s treasure technique, one must walk its path, approaching it through emulation.
“Of course! Legends say only those with ten Heavenly Passage can open the path to the forbidden land and obtain the divine abilities of the Ten Fiends. But it seems there’s more to it,” the Little Rascal realized instantly.
The Kunpeng was selecting a disciple—one who began with ten Heavenly Passages. The nest contained records of its youthful trials, outlining a cultivation path. Only by following its footsteps could one learn its methods.
“The ‘path’ isn’t physical—it’s the means to obtain the Kunpeng’s treasure technique, an intangible road.”
This was the true way. Shi Hao focused, exploring intently.
From different angles, he glimpsed varying runes, sometimes seeing the Kunpeng soaring, its phantom appearing. Over days, he gleaned fragments of its techniques, his expression growing solemn.
For half a month, he continued, shifting positions, each yielding new insights. Though he hadn’t obtained the full treasure technique, his joy was undeniable.
But then—
“Wait, I’m not the only one who’s discovered this. Others, wielding Kunpeng bone fragments, scales, or feathers, have also sensed it!”
That day, Shi Hao’s brow furrowed.
“This time, you won’t escape!” A familiar voice rang out, laced with killing intent.
Shi Hao turned to see the azure-haired youth, surrounded by experts, blocking the sea.
“Again? This time, don’t even think of leaving,” Shi Hao replied coldly.
This youth had lured him into exploring the Kunpeng’s Nest, only to abandon him in danger, even attempting to finish him off. Repeated provocations had worn Shi Hao’s patience thin.
Now, with his spiritual flesh perfected, he needed a test subject—and this azure-haired youth would make the perfect meal. A true feast of pure-blooded essence.
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