C22 Flawless Law

Nangong Fan stood amidst the bustling crowd, yet it was as if he was invisible to them. They streamed past him, oblivious to his presence, as though he were merely part of the scenery.

Time seemed to warp for Nangong Fan; a moment felt like an eternity, leaving him disoriented and unsure of his surroundings.

His eyes clouded with confusion, Nangong Fan numbly moved with the flow of people, the once-present figure of the elegant youth now nowhere to be seen.

It was as though the youth had been a figment of his imagination, and he had always been alone in the throng, carried along by the current.

Nangong Fan was lost in thought, replaying the vivid images that tumbled through his mind.

He dreamt he was a massive bear, towering like a hill, roaring at the sky with a sense of belonging as natural as a fish in water, the world around him radiating benevolence and exhilaration.

His roar shook the heavens, causing demons to bow down as if commanded by an emperor, and the world itself to yield.

In his eyes, the demons engaged in a brutal struggle, the law of survival and the rule of the strong enacted with brutal clarity.

He then transformed into a majestic eagle, the sky his domain, each beat of his wings stirring the wind and clouds, each movement a display of raw power.

The bear and the eagle, like the earth and sky, both stood as unparalleled Demon Kings, their demonic energy boiling over, engulfing the heavens and the earth.

In their world, raw physicality clashed, and even spiritual energy served only to enhance their physical dominance. A single punch could shake the earth, a flap of wings could change the weather.

A rich, earthy fragrance began to emanate from Nangong Fan, his body growing heavier, his legs as if rooted to the ground. He could almost hear the heartbeat of the earth deep below, his own pulse resonating with it, a profound sense of the Tao surging within him. Nangong Fan murmured in contentment, feeling as though he had become a small fish returning to the vast sea, free to explore in every direction.

Despite the allure of this enchanting delusion, Nangong Fan sensed a profound transformation within himself, a change that set him apart from who he once was.

In an unconscious state, Nangong Fan's dantian radiated colorless Spiritual Energy that shimmered with strands of brown light, exuding a resilience and resolve unlike that of flora.

Simultaneously, two spinning, ethereal orbs materialized within his sea of consciousness, suspended in the void. One orb, cloaked in brown, emanated a profound presence, while the other, a sinister blood-red, pulsed with an unending vitality. They resembled two seeds buried in the soil, poised for the right moment to sprout and grow.

...

The great Dao encompasses three thousand paths, each unique.

Every individual perceives and comprehends the Dao differently.

Before the Dao, there are innumerable Laws.

Those who attain the Dao coalesce it through myriad methods.

Like water, it can support a boat or capsize it.

People view the world from different perspectives, making it rare for them to grasp the same Dao.

Enlightened ones write treatises, establish schools, and impart wisdom for generations, thus forming three hundred Daoist Canons.

The Daoist Canon is the martial path's ultimate scripture, guiding practitioners progressively towards enlightenment.

The Beast Transforming Spell is considered part of this canon. The Dao it embodies has been refined over countless generations, its profundity boundless.

Some cultivate it through Qi; others through essence. There are those who cultivate both in tandem.

Some base their cultivation on blood; others on demonic nature.

Blood becomes a law, ignites as a law, flows as a law.

Demonic ferocity, naivety, and the survival of the fittest each become a law.

The myriad demons Nangong Fan has witnessed all prioritize survival. Their ferocity and predatory nature are merely means to endure.

To Nangong Fan, the Demon Law epitomizes the law of survival. Embracing the Demon Law isn't about forsaking the divine essence of humanity but about mastering the art of survival. Although humans are held in high regard, the Demon Race once reigned over the heavens for eons, offering valuable lessons.

The ascendance of humanity involved assimilating the quintessence of all beings, discarding the chaff, and forging their own system. Furthermore, the human lineage has weathered many trials, and its definition has expanded beyond mere ancestry. Anyone born in human form is deemed human.

It might seem laughable, but the human race once fractured over such matters. Yet, it was their openness to new ideas that allowed them to thrive.

The twelve basic forms of the Beast Transforming Spell, found in the "Art of Animal Shapes," encapsulate a variety of Daoist techniques.

The bear, embodying the earth's vast solidity, and the eagle, mirroring the fierce swiftness of a gale.

Nangong Fan devoted twenty relentless days and nights to mastering the Bear Form, and in this latest transformation, his dream of becoming the bear reached a new level of refinement.

Previously, the bear's image in his mind was but a blur as he executed the Bear Fist. Now, transformed into the bear king, the form emerged in his mind's eye, lifelike and unforgettable. The Bear Fist, once rootless and drifting, now drew upon a deeper source, its might magnified.

Despite a surge of elation, Nangong Fan felt a tinge of melancholy. He longed for a vast, open space where he could unleash the full force of the Bear Fist to vent his emotions.

As the crowd surged toward the outskirts of the city, over a hundred black-armored soldiers flanked the city gate, scrutinizing each passerby. Ordinary citizens presented their tokens in an orderly fashion, while newcomers to the city often had to navigate a maze of unwritten rules to gain entry.

Some found that even their tried-and-true methods were futile. A select few would discreetly hand over a slip of paper to the soldiers, who, after examining it intently, would guide them respectfully into the city.

These were scenes from days past. Now, Dragonstone was in lockdown, with only the west gate cracked open, staunchly barring entry to all outsiders.

The opening of the secret realm was imminent, stirring a tumultuous mix of characters. For those not already within the city walls, gaining entry was now an insurmountable challenge.

Yet, there were a privileged few who managed to gain access. These individuals, often from Earth's illustrious families, made grand entrances atop mythical beasts, flanked by venerable servants. They too had to present certain items—usually palm-sized badges—to pass through the gates.

"They talk of tightening security on those who come and go, yet those sycophants still bow and scrape to usher them into the city," someone remarked with a hint of disdain.

"Keep it down. Do you have any idea who just went in there? I caught a glimpse of the guy leading that last group – he's the son of a Marshal from Forestvale. I've heard that at this point, only the elite from top-tier cities are allowed into Dragonstone."

"There was this loudmouth earlier claiming to be the big shot from Lin City. He managed to wound a few soldiers before a figure of general rank came out, slaughtered all his men, and left him nearly dead."

"We'd be fools to stir up trouble here; we could end up dead. The folks of Dragonstone don't give a second thought to the laws of the Evexeomor Kingdom."

"We're just trying to scrape together a living with no real backing here. It's best not to even dream of getting into the city right now. Let's go elsewhere to trade. We'll make do with less and rest up for a couple of months before we even think about doing business in Dragonstone again."

Nangong Fan silently joined the handful of people leaving the city, his ears filled with the laments of those unable to enter. Most were unfortunate souls who had endured a long journey to Dragonstone, hoping to earn some spirit stones to sustain their cultivation. But with the secret realm about to open and the city's gates closed, they were out of luck.

Although Nangong Fan felt a pang of sympathy, he knew the tide of events was not something a minor noble like himself could turn.

As the Dragonstone Mystic Realm's opening approached, the city's affluent clans were keen to keep the riffraff at bay. The entire city could be thrown into the mystic realms, and it would barely make a dent. That wouldn't stop the elite from erecting barriers to keep what they saw as the unworthy from seizing opportunities for fortune.

The treasures choose their owners, so they've locked out the people, ensuring that only the elite have a chance at selection.

Even those who complained would make the same choice if they were among the elite.

Such is the nature of human frailty.

Nangong Fan stepped away from the throng at the city gates, making his way toward a deserted stretch of land. Each step he took seemed to resonate with the earth's rhythm, and though he was merely walking, he moved with a swiftness that outpaced his previous running.

The city gates of Dragonstone faded into the distance behind Nangong Fan.

He casually selected a relatively even patch of ground, stood tall, and focused intently. In his mind, a vision of a colossal bear emerged, stretching its body and swinging its massive paws with a surge of overwhelming might.

A spark of brilliance flashed in Nangong Fan's eyes as he channeled brown spiritual energy through his speech, unleashing a thunderous roar imbued with the commanding presence of a bear king.

A small bird, walking ten meters behind him, trembled at the sound, tumbling to the ground with eyes wide in terror, cowering on the earth.

With a surge of spiritual power within him, Nangong Fan launched a punch forward. The energy roiled, converging at his fist and erupting in a burst of brown radiance, merging with a subtle force from the ground itself.

It was as though a mighty bear had unleashed a ferocious and domineering blow in sync with the heartbeat of the land.

His fist carried a profound intent, marking a modest mastery of the Bear Fist technique. Yet, what he would cultivate next was not merely the form, but the essence of the fist—the intent, which could not be enhanced by simple repetition alone.

For now, Nangong Fan cast aside thoughts of the future. This session of practice left him feeling liberated, as if something had been expelled with the force of his punches. The more he struck, the more exhilarating it became, and with each punch, his body grew increasingly invigorated.

Unbeknownst to Nangong Fan, this execution of the Bear Fist had not only stimulated a warm flow within his dantian, nourishing his body, but also drawn a fine, brown stream of energy from the earth into his heart and dantian.

The more formidable the intent behind each fist, the swifter the flow of energy from the ground.

Each punch brought a subtle enhancement to the intent, lending it greater depth and weight.

The brown energy settled within his dantian, as if laying the foundations of the world within, imbued with a hint of gravity. Under its influence, the energy within his dantian began to coalesce.

Completing the sequence, Nangong Fan felt a warmth in his dantian and a burst of joyous roar escaped his lips. The spiritual energy within had at last formed into a small, dense sphere.

Without realizing it, the era of Wu Zong had come to an end.

In the dantian, Qi serves as the foundation; when it forms a sphere, one is deemed a Martial Marquis, and when it circulates completely, one is crowned a king.

Having formed a sphere of Qi, one has just attained the rank of Martial Marquis.

A spiritual cultivator's capacity to absorb Qi is limited by the thickness and width of their dantian.

There are those whose Qi is at its peak, yet they cannot break through to the next realm. This is not only due to an insufficient level of cultivation but also because the physical body's strength acts as a significant constraint.

If the body cannot contain more Qi, it naturally cannot advance to the next level.

Nangong Fan, having absorbed the aura of the Heavenly Stele, grasped the technique. With the initial formation of the law, advancing to the current realm was no longer an issue for him. Moreover, his physical body had already exceeded the limits of his current realm when he absorbed the dragon crystal.

Practicing Xing Yi Fist daily, the Qi warmed his heart, and inadvertently, he embarked on the path of dual cultivation of Qi and essence.

The Beast Transformation Technique was a profound method of cultivation beyond the imagination of those within the Aerial Boundaries, where essence and Qi actually enhance each other.

Were it not for this synergy, the sheer force of the dragon Qi within those black dragon crystals alone could provoke an ascension in broad daylight.

Nangong Fan experienced none of the usual discomfort that accompanies a breakthrough. Instead, he felt exhilarated, as if a parched land had been nourished by a long-awaited spring rain.

"Well done, lad! Your fist intent is tangible, like an enraged bear connecting with the earth, carrying with it an immense presence. What a fine young man, what an impressive technique," a hearty voice exclaimed from behind Nangong Fan as he finished his form.

A sense of urgency gripped Nangong Fan's heart. Anyone who cultivates Qi would be on alert unless the approaching person was significantly more powerful.

Yet, at this moment, someone had managed to get incredibly close without detection. Even as he concentrated, trying to sense any presence behind him, he found nothing.

Such an individual could likely take his life with a single move, and he couldn't help but inwardly lament his predicament.