The bearing of these men, at a glance, showed them to be reasonable and well-mannered souls. Su Yan looked at them and could not help but feel a closeness grow in his heart.
Zhai Wuxian said, "Su Yan may be young, but he knows what lies beyond the martial arts. He even knows the realm Martial Heavenly Sovereign is about to break into."
At his words, all eyes turned eagerly upon Su Yan. The spiritual influence of these martial powerhouses pressed against him, and he felt a moment of suffocation.
"Do you truly know the stages of the martial path?" Master Yuandao asked, his tiger-eyes brimming with tears. "Are martial stages truly not a thousand levels, ten thousand, a million?"
The brisk woman asked hopefully, "Is the highest stage the one Martial Heavenly Sovereign will break through — a million stages of Transcendence?"
Another old man pressed: "And after that stage, is there still a road beyond?"
Su Yan hesitated. These were the mightiest beings the Primal World had produced in a thousand years, each a myth. This barren world could not cultivate qi, yet by martial strength alone they had carved their own unique path. But could these supreme beings truly accept that higher realms existed above them, reached by men as numerous as fish in a river?
Su Yan steadied himself. "Venerable elders, the first thousand stages of Transcendence are the Qi-Gathering stage; a thousand to ten thousand, the Gate-Breaking stage, opening the tailbone gate; ten to a hundred thousand, the Dual Refinement stage, forging the martial golden core; a hundred thousand to a million, the second Gate-Breaking, opening the gate between the shoulder blades. Beyond a million, the Tower-Scaling stage forges the martial primordial spirit." He recounted the Jade Pool and Spirit-Bridge stages and the third Gate-Breaking. "That last opens the Heavenly Gate at the back of the skull. Reach it, pass the heavenly tribulation, and you ascend an immortal — one who entered the Dao through martial arts."
The crowd listened stupefied, struck dumb. Su Yan sighed inwardly. They were peerless geniuses, prideful, chasing the martial path's ultimate realm. To learn that all the wisdom of a lifetime set them only at the starting line of cultivation — that blow was unthinkable.
Master Yuandao murmured, "So the stages are that simple. One need not reach the millions. Damn me — every time I think of where I stand, I have to count from the start, and sometimes I forget whether I've crossed the hundreds of thousands yet."
The others nodded, especially the strongmen of the second Gate-Breaking stage, hundreds of thousands deep, who had to peel off layer after layer of Transcendent True Qi to keep count.
"So I too have only just waded into the shallows."
An aged voice rang from the center of the Far Shore. Su Yan looked — golden light flooded the sky, and a twelve-storied golden tower stood between heaven and earth, vast, solemn, suppressing all things!
The Tower-Scaling stage — twelve towers! Martial Heavenly Sovereign was displaying them, which meant he had forged his martial primordial spirit, a feat without precedent: the first strongman to reach it by martial strength alone, without refining qi, without practicing nuo!
"Martial Heavenly Sovereign has come out of seclusion!" The crowd hurried to the tower. Zhai Wuxian said to Su Yan, "Come with me!"
At its foot sat a white-haired elder, and around him flickered white-haired figures practicing every kind of fist, sword, and saber work in perfect order. Those were not his true bodies, but his spirit — so condensed that it affected reality itself. When Su Yan arrived, the figures walked back into his body and vanished.
His thoughts have reached Grand Unity, Su Yan thought with admiration. He has no Grand Unity Daoyin Art; he groped forward alone and still refined his mind this far. Even with my art, I was nine before I reached Grand Unity.
Martial Heavenly Sovereign opened his eyes, his gaze falling on Su Yan, seeming to see through everything. "You are not a man of this world. Your body holds a seal over a power far beyond martial qi. This world has no such energy."
Su Yan said, "Your dharma-eye sees truly. That power is called primal qi in other worlds; scattered through heaven and earth it becomes heavenly spiritual force. Cultivators who gather it are called qi-refiners." He went on: "But there is another power on me — the Panacea of the Far Shore, stolen by cultivators for longevity. Those who refine souls by its strength are called nuo masters."
Master Yuandao asked, "Then what are we — qi-refiners or nuo masters?"
Su Yan felt a head-splitting difficulty. "The martial path gathers no primal qi and steals no Panacea. It relies on a spirit that presses ever forward, strengthening the body and refining qi and blood, until it matches nuo masters and qi-refiners. I think it should stand on its own."
The crowd brightened. But Martial Heavenly Sovereign's face grew heavy. "You train to a hundred thousand stages and still stand only at the Dual Refinement stage. I spent a life lifting the martial path to the Tower-Scaling stage, and my lifespan has ended. If you grow complacent, you may never glimpse the next realm, let alone ascend!"
Zhai Wuxian asked, worried, "Martial Heavenly Sovereign, your lifespan...?"
Martial Heavenly Sovereign sighed. "My aptitude is not exceptional; I reached here by persistence. When I reached the Dual Refinement stage, I felt my lifespan spent. Only upon breaking the second Gate-Breaking stage did my life suddenly lengthen. But the Tower-Scaling stage grants no more years. I have only a few months left."
Su Yan said, "The second Gate-Breaking opens the gate between the shoulder blades; force it, and you add oil to the lamp of life."
"Add oil to the lamp, and the flame burns longer," Martial Heavenly Sovereign agreed. "That is how I broke through to forge a primordial spirit. But I have become only the second man on this Far Shore to reach the Tower-Scaling realm — I have not lived in vain."
He took life and death lightly. "Young friend, your tailbone gate carries a seal. I have forged my primordial spirit — opening it is a trifle."
Su Yan cautioned, "The seal is of Heavenly Dao runes."
"Opening it will not be hard," said Martial Heavenly Sovereign.
"The runes are formidable," Su Yan said.
Martial Heavenly Sovereign nodded. "Opening it will not be hard."
Su Yan drew in a sharp breath — could a martial expert who had just forged his primordial spirit truly erase a Heavenly Dao seal? He had not seen Zhai Wuxian punch out the head of the idol of Heaven's Will; had he, he would not have doubted.
"Martial Heavenly Sovereign," Su Yan said, "I would like to try myself, to see whether my own martial spirit can break the seal. If I cannot, I will trouble you then."
"Since you have made up your mind," said Martial Heavenly Sovereign warmly, "I will see it through. This Far Shore is filled with the arts of the ancestors — train as you please. Beyond it lies the ancient battlefield, where you can test what you have learned. And if you wish to spar with us, we would be glad."
Su Yan looked at Master Yuandao and the others; they wore kind, eager faces. "I think I will first study the peerless arts of the Far Shore."
The crowd dispersed, a little disappointed. Su Yan came before a stone tablet carved with another wondrous technique — the Art of Utter Ease and Freedom, famed for its body movement, which at utmost speed could move from stillness to motion and back in utter freedom. He meditated beneath it and soon teleported dozens of li away and back, streaking across the sky like a rainbow.
*Swish!* It surpassed even the qi-refiners' rainbow-transformation, swifter still. Yet beside the Eight Forms of the War God, it lacked that spirit of battling heaven and earth. Its ghostly movement would keep few from harming him, but without bold, forward-charging spirit, his cultivation might grow slow.
He passed a broken sword already purified of its killer aura, yet fierce. Sword-qi cut at his arm, carrying a measure of Heavenly Dao sword-intent — purer than Li Xiaoke's Carefree Sword, though Li's technique was deft and manifold. Su Yan mastered the Thirteen Styles of the Heavenly Sword, then shook his head: still a notch below the Eight Forms.
Days passed. Two months into his stay, he meditated on a final tablet bearing a stern, overbearing fist-art. "Still not the equal of the Eight Forms." He walked on — and stopped. Ahead there were no more peerless arts, only rows of barren graves.
"No matter how brilliant your gift, how flawless your skill, before the many moons you are but a handful of dust," Zhai Wuxian said behind him. "These ancestors have all passed on."
Su Yan walked silently past the graves; each held a peerless strongman with a glorious past, yet the headstones bore only a bare name. At the far end he asked, "Which grave holds the ancestor who created the Eight Forms of the War God?"
"He is not buried here," said Zhai Wuxian, looking into the distance. "He was the first to forge a primordial spirit. Legend says he walked out of here and never returned."
There, corpse-qi was thick and endless. That first man of the martial path had walked into the underworld.