Chapter 997 — The Rampaging Ancient Spirits

"The Eighth Heaven of Divine Power?"

Shen Mu was stunned, finding it hard to believe. For so long he had striven to enter the Dao through divine abilities, yet he had never once succeeded.

Entering the Dao through divine abilities demanded an extraordinary comprehension of spells and divine arts, whereas his habit had always been to grasp only the grand direction of the Jingping Reform and leave the fine, detailed work to others.

For instance, he had come to understand that Primordial Magnetism could serve as a system of Daoist arts and divine abilities, and had even worked out several equations capable of deriving Primordial Magnetism runes—yet instead of researching further himself, he had simply tossed the whole matter to Granny Zhu.

Granny Zhu had studied out all the Primordial Magnetism runes and entered the Dao directly through Primordial Magnetism. Shen Mu, though he learned the Primordial Magnetism runes and the great Primordial Magnetism divine ability, had thereby forfeited a chance to enter the Dao.

Of course, entering the Dao was extraordinarily difficult; to say that those who succeeded were one in ten million, one in a hundred million, was no exaggeration.

This time, Shen Mu had done nothing more than fuse the knowledge of two great cultivation systems, merging the Ancient Gods' rune-Dao with the knowledge of the Creators, joining the two systems of divine consciousness and vital essence into one—and only thus had he managed to push his divine ability to the Eighth Heaven in a single stroke.

Yet the knowledge of those two great systems was not exhausted. He would still have to keep comprehending them before he could possibly drive his divine ability to a higher level.

He woke from the Dao-entering and carefully savored the insights he had gained during it, his heart full of feeling: "To think that entering the Dao was so simple..."

The twenty-seven forebear spirits said nothing.

So simple, was it?

The Holy Infant for whom the Creator race had waited in anguish through tens of thousands of years seemed not to realize how wounding those words were. If entering the Dao were truly so simple, would the Creator race have fallen to its present straits?

One forebear spirit said, "We had assumed you would enter the Dao straight at the Eighteenth Heaven. To think it was only the Eighth."

The other tall forebear spirits standing in the red light took the meaning and nodded one after another: "Only entering the Dao at the Eighteenth Heaven counts as passing. The Eighth is indeed a little low."

"Indeed—since he is the Holy Infant of our race, he must be a peerless genius. The Eighth Heaven is rather low."

Shen Mu's face went black as iron, and he said no more.

One forebear spirit consoled him: "The Eighth Heaven is not so bad. After all, you did enter the Dao. The Holy Infant need not take it to heart; compared with ordinary Creators, the Holy Infant is quite good."

The other forebear spirits chimed in: "So long as the Holy Infant keeps striving, diligence can make up for clumsiness."

"It does not matter if one is a bit slow—we slow birds fly first, and we too shall achieve great things!"

Divine King Langwan watched these forebear spirits with a smile that was not quite a smile, and cleared her throat.

Only then did the forebear spirits let Shen Mu be, and stop battering him.

Shen Mu bowed to the forebear spirits in thanks and said, "Having gained the wisdom of the Creator race, I will surely do all within my power to seek the welfare of the Creator race."

The forebear spirits returned the salute and said, "Let not the Holy Infant forget today's promise, and let him soon restore peace to the Other Shore World and the Land of the Great Void. Now the Holy Infant may leave."

"Such a promise I shall never dare forget!" Shen Mu said gravely.

One by one the forebear spirits faded into the red light deep within the Spirit Realm, their thought-consciousness still rippling faintly, now present, now not: "The Holy Infant is fine in every way—only a little slow. Just the Eighth Heaven..."

"Hush! Did you not hear the Divine King clear her throat? The Divine King means for us to stop battering him. He is already miserable enough."

"Heh heh—the knowledge and wisdom of our whole Creator race, traded for nothing but the Eighth Heaven..."

"Say no more!"

...

Shen Mu's expression turned very ugly again. Divine King Langwan pressed her lips together, holding back a laugh, and said in a low voice, "You need not listen to their nonsense. The Eighth Heaven of divine ability is truly remarkable; they say such things only because entering the Dao came so easily to you. The truth is that our Creator race was never skilled at entering the Dao—they themselves never reached such a level in those years. You should know that even Shen Ye, chief of the bandits, entered the Dao only at the Thirty-Third Heaven."

Shen Mu said sullenly, "I knew they were jealous of me. I was not wounded by them at all. I have an Overlord Physique—I can take on ten Kaihuang..."

Yet even as he spoke, it was plain he was not quite so confident as he claimed.

Divine King Langwan carried him flying out of the Spirit Realm. A thought suddenly struck Shen Mu, and he said in alarm, "That forebear spirit who brought back the three prophecies—is he not in the Spirit Realm? Why have I not seen him this time?"

Langwan hesitated, then told him the reason: "That forebear spirit died after he brought back the three prophecies. His divine consciousness was collected by us and preserved in the Spirit Realm, but it is in utter chaos, without coherent thought. That is why the twenty-seven forebear spirits govern the Spirit Realm."

Shen Mu asked, "Then may I see him?"

Langwan wavered a moment, then said, "His thoughts are disordered. Even if you saw him, it would be of no use. Still, he brought the three prophecies, and you, as the Holy Infant of the third prophecy, do indeed deserve to see him."

She brought Shen Mu to another place in the Spirit Realm. In the Spirit Realm there was no division of east, south, west, or north, nor of above and below; it was vast and boundless, and Shen Mu had no idea how she fixed her bearings there.

The forebear spirit who had brought the three prophecies was indeed as she had said: his thought-consciousness was utterly disordered. The thought-consciousness of other Creators could assemble into luminous fluids shaped like brains, but his darted wildly in every direction, some of it knotted and clumped into balls—like countless skeins of yarn tangled together, exceedingly strange.

Shen Mu stood before this forebear spirit. The light of the spirit's thoughts was in great confusion, flickering with all manner of colors, signifying the jumble of his mind.

Within the light of his thoughts, Shen Mu saw scene after scene flashing past, gone in an instant; but the forebear spirit's thoughts were too disordered, and the images were warped, their meaning unclear.

"Can someone truly foresee the future?" Shen Mu wondered, dazed.

Divine King Langwan said, "This is he."

She said softly, "Elder, the Holy Infant of your prophecy has come to visit you."

The moment the words left her lips, the light of the forebear spirit's thoughts vanished abruptly, becoming incomparably still.

Shen Mu's spirits surged, and he said, "Elder, I am the Holy Infant of your prophecy. Can you still hear my words? I wish to know how you made your accurate prophecies. Could you tell me?"

Divine King Langwan gave him a strange look. So the fellow's aim was not to visit the elder at all—he meant to find out how the prophecies had come to be!

"The Holy Infant's way of thinking is plainly very different from that of ordinary people. Could it be a matter of brain structure?" She glanced at Shen Mu's head and thought to herself.

The forebear spirit's thoughts flickered with light again, though only in the smallest quantity.

His thoughts rippled: "Holy Infant..."