Chapter 997 — The Rampaging Ancient Spirits
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
"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.