Chapter 212 — The Inevitable Parting
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 3
The writing in this volume was sparse, and when Shen Mu had given the text a rough reading, a host of principles concerning the cultivation of the soul welled up in his mind. The Demon King of Dutian had told him that the book held sorcery from Youdu—evidently this, too, had been a lie dangled before him to bait him into a trap.
"When I speak, at least one sentence in ten is true," Shen Mu reflected.
"When the Demon King of Dutian speaks, only one sentence in a hundred is true. " And he thought to himself: "Of everything he told me, only that business about the language of Youdu was genuine—all the rest was false!
" Upon careful reflection, he found that if he could fully absorb the subtleties of the written characters, he could indeed glean some soul-related arts. Yet what mattered more about the writing in this volume was that it strengthened the soul; soul arts were only of secondary importance.
Shen Mu committed the words to memory, closed the volume, and sat in deep thought, pondering the mysteries of the text in an attempt to comprehend a soul art. The Great Nurturing Nether-Demon Sutra contained arts of the soul, and so did the great shaman of the Mandi Kingdom; the Eight Thunder Roar Arts Master Huo had transmitted to him, and the Great Perfection Seal of the demon race, all had wondrous techniques aimed at the soul. The Soul-Pulling Art of the Nine Nethers Sect was the most outstanding divine ability among them.
If he could corroborate all these against the words of this volume, their power could be made even greater! Shen Mu meditated for a long while, then gradually began to pace the courtyard, gesturing as he walked—he was attempting to fuse the principles of the Youdu script into the move Sunlight Refines the Yang Spirit in the Void.
This move was one of the Eight Thunder Roar Arts, the supreme combat technique of the Thunder Roar Mahayana Sutra; its power was hard and fierce to the extreme, and generation after generation of Tathagatas had already refined it to the limit, leaving almost no room for improvement. Yet Shen Mu was now improving it. He had never trained in the Thunder Roar Mahayana Sutra, but ever since he had merged the Great Nurturing Nether-Demon Sutra with the Mystic Body Three-Dan Art and unified his cultivation into a whole, the might of the Eight Thunder Roar Arts had grown ever greater, in no way inferior to the Thunder Roar Mahayana Sutra.
He rehearsed the move again and again, punching out again and again.
The root of the fist was the heart-seal, and the heart-seal was the great sun; every punch sent thunder rolling and a blazing sun burning fierce, refining the yang spirit, its power rising by degrees.
This move had no effect on the physical body; for all its tremendous clamor, it attacked only the soul. As Shen Mu rehearsed, a wisp of fiery essence gradually emerged from his fist-seals—a flame unlike ordinary fire, the karmic fire that burns the soul.
Each of his punches carried karmic fire, and gradually the fire grew thicker and more turbulent, coiling around his fist into a round crimson sun. The smoother his practice became, the more he could not help crying out with long howls; then suddenly a punch flew, and a great sun exploded in midair, rolling flames spreading in every direction until karmic fire flooded the whole courtyard. "Sword Hall, why such haste?
" Shen Mu invited him in and asked. "Heavenly King Lu is wounded. " Shen Mu's heart lurched, and he went with the man to his courtyard.
"Cult Master, this old man is ashamed. I have come bearing wounds to see you, but they are too heavy for me to perform the rites of greeting.
" Heavenly King Lu lay on the bed, struggling to rise yet unable to, and spoke shamefacedly. Shen Mu waved his hand, stepped forward to examine the wounds, and frowned slightly.