Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Realm of Perfection

Certain key phrases spoken by Elder Mu immediately caught Ye Cheng’s attention. Interrupting Elder Mu, Ye Cheng asked in astonishment, “So those with the Devouring Physique in the past had no Soul-Devouring Technique to cultivate? Wouldn’t that mean they couldn’t cultivate at all?”

This instantly stirred up memories for Ye Cheng. Back before Elder Mu appeared in his life, he had experienced just that—his path of cultivation shrouded in darkness.

Thinking of this, Ye Cheng couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude toward the kindly old man before him. Without Elder Mu’s intervention, he would not be where he was today. Perhaps he would still be living as he had before.

“In theory, that would be correct, but to be precise, it’s not entirely so,” Elder Mu replied, pausing briefly. He nodded, then shook his head slightly.

“So when did the Soul-Devouring Technique, this unique cultivation method, come into existence?”

Elder Mu did not answer Ye Cheng’s question directly. Instead, he countered, “Do you remember what I once told you? That you are very fortunate—you are the second person to benefit from this technique?”

Ye Cheng thought back for a moment and suddenly recalled that Elder Mu had indeed mentioned he was the second to use this technique.

“It seems I am truly lucky. If that’s the case, then including myself, only two people have ever practiced this technique.” These thoughts flashed through his mind, but Ye Cheng did not voice them; he merely nodded, waiting for Elder Mu to continue.

Seeing Ye Cheng nod, Elder Mu resumed, “According to ancient records, there was once a man with the Devouring Physique named Wang Tong. His martial prowess reached the heavens, but the technique he cultivated was not the Soul-Devouring Technique you hold now. It was another method, also meant for those with the Devouring Physique. However, this technique is lost to time—the ancient texts contain no details, and it has likely vanished in the river of ages.”

“The Soul-Devouring Technique you now practice was created in this era. By mastering this method, its creator forced his way to the pinnacle of this world and was hailed by all as the ‘Devouring Emperor.’ Yet after that great battle, he too perished...” As he spoke, Elder Mu’s mood visibly darkened, though he quickly regained his composure.

Even so, the dimness that flashed in Elder Mu’s eyes did not escape Ye Cheng’s notice. Suddenly, Ye Cheng recalled that Elder Mu had once mentioned his connection to the creator of the technique.

“Was he your old acquaintance, Master?”

“Yes... he was once my comrade-in-arms,” Elder Mu replied, his words somewhat halting. Then he added, “When your strength reaches a certain level, perhaps you will meet him—if his soul still lingers in this world.”

Clearly, Elder Mu was unwilling to dwell further on the topic.

“So Master, too, has his stories,” Ye Cheng mused inwardly. He knew there was more between Elder Mu and the creator of the Soul-Devouring Technique, but since Elder Mu was reluctant to speak of it, Ye Cheng tactfully changed the subject.

“Then, Master, do you think my Devouring Physique could condense ninety-nine bloodlines within the Blood Aura Realm and reach the legendary state of Grand Perfection?”

Grand Perfection! Elder Mu’s expression froze momentarily. After a brief pause, he looked at Ye Cheng with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “With your physique, if you don’t reach the ninety-nine lines of the Blood Aura Realm, then in the future, don’t go around telling people you’re my disciple.”

“Uh, well, it’s not like I can tell anyone I’m your disciple anyway,” Ye Cheng replied with a wry smile.

At this, Elder Mu rapped him sharply on the head and emphasized through gritted teeth, “I mean in the future.”

Ye Cheng fell silent.

Hearing Elder Mu’s tone, Ye Cheng grew curious. He asked cautiously, “So, is reaching the ninety-nine lines so easy? I thought only the most exceptional geniuses could achieve it.”

“What do you mean by ‘exceptional genius’?” Elder Mu retorted, then explained, “That’s merely how the mundane world defines it. To them, the Blood Aura Realm is indeed an extraordinary accomplishment—and for most, it truly is. But I can tell you this: those with special physiques, if they achieve any success in cultivation, almost all will reach the ninety-nine lines in the Blood Aura Realm. Of course, there are rare cases where someone without a special physique, through unique opportunities and personal talent, also attains this realm.”

Ye Cheng was shocked, but upon reflection, found it reasonable. After all, those with special physiques were exceedingly rare.

“Many of the Origin Realm experts you’ve seen did not reach the ninety-nine lines in the Blood Aura Realm. As a result, their true strength is greatly diminished. For example, in a duel between two masters of the Origin Realm, the one who has passed through the ninety-nine lines will surely prevail. Achieving this level is a sign of martial talent—those who do are invariably gifted beyond the ordinary.”

From Elder Mu’s explanation, Ye Cheng understood that for him, reaching the ninety-nine lines in the Blood Aura Realm should not pose much difficulty.

Which meant... Ling’er as well...

At the thought of the little tagalong who used to follow him everywhere, Ye Cheng’s mind conjured the image of that delicate face, tear-stained and pleading, from the day they parted...

His fist clenched unconsciously, nails digging into his palm. Ye Cheng murmured softly, “Ling’er, I promised you—I will complete my cultivation as quickly as possible and return to you soon.”

With these words, Ye Cheng lifted his head to gaze at the pitch-black night outside. Hearing the patter of rain striking the ground, he sat down once more, closed his eyes, and focused on consolidating the power he had gained from absorbing the blood core.

Elder Mu heard every word the boy uttered. His lips moved as if to speak, but seeing Ye Cheng’s closed eyes, he said nothing. With a faint shimmer, his figure gradually faded into the darkness of the cave.

Within the cave, the boy remained alone, silently cultivating.

Outside, the sky was thick with clouds, and rain fell in sheets. Fine strands of rain wove a gray veil between heaven and earth, enveloping the entire Demon Forest.

Soon, the night passed in the quiet of cultivation, and the rain outside ceased. On the walls of the cave, droplets of water trickled down the stone crevices, falling to the ground with a soft drip.

Dawn broke. After the rain, the sky appeared even more pure and blue. A delicate roseate glow spread like a gauze across the horizon, and the first light of morning poured over the land, filtering through the mountain ranges and dense woods of the Demon Forest.

The boy in the cave opened his eyes, gazed at the dazzling brightness outside, and rose from his seated posture. Stretching deeply, a smile played at his lips as he strolled out of the cave, unhurried.

A new day meant the start of a new journey.