Chapter Forty-Six: Transforming the Primal True Fire!

Fang Zheng stood atop the eagle’s back, watching as the Ziyang Mountain below gradually shrank into a modest mound, and the figures of the outer sect disciples became as tiny as ants. His heart was inevitably filled with a touch of emotion.

Once upon a time, he too had struggled for survival in the sect like those ants, but now he soared among the clouds of the ninth heaven, gazing down upon the world below.

Power—in the world of cultivators, true respect is paid to strength alone.

The fierce wind howled, yet it could not disturb the hem of Fang Zheng’s robe. The dense white aura of vital energy, just a step away from becoming tangible, enveloped him like a close-fitting suit of armor.

“Zheng’er, what are you thinking about now?” Shen Qingkong sat calmly on the eagle’s back, the endless wind roaring past his ears, yet affecting him not in the slightest. This unremarkable old man radiated no brilliance, nor did he appear any different from ordinary people. Yet, even at such heights, he remained composed, as if resting in a hall.

“Master, what worries me most is whether this journey will yield any results. The Fire Origin True Spirit is a rare treasure; whichever kind it is, it will be fiercely contested. I fear our opponents this time…” Fang Zheng lowered his head, his face troubled.

“No matter how dangerous, we must try. The world of cultivators is filled with hardship and peril—merely sitting to cultivate risks deviation, let alone competing for treasures,” Shen Qingkong replied with unwavering resolve. “No matter what, I must seize the Transformational True Gang Fire for Ling Fei!”

Transformational True Gang Fire!

Fang Zheng’s pupils contracted sharply. He replied respectfully, “Yes, Master!”

That Shen Ling Fei truly has good fortune, born into the Shen family, with every step of his cultivation arranged for him!

Countless thoughts surged in Fang Zheng’s mind, but he voiced none of them, bowing his head in silence.

“Hmph, what’s this? Knowing shame at last?” Wu Lei saw Luo Tian standing still, feeling immensely satisfied. Pretending before Lei-ge? Unacceptable!

Luo Tian ignored him completely.

The Windwing Eagle’s talons slashed, its beak struck like lightning—fierce and wild.

And the Skylark’s nimble dodges, twice just in time, each avoiding disaster at the last moment.

Of course, the Skylark’s fate was unlikely to be good; the Windwing Eagle was a rank above, excelling both in speed and attack. Yet this could not diminish the Skylark’s agile movements moments before.

A slash, a peck, a dodge.

In Luo Tian’s mind, these simple actions played on repeat, faster then slower, as he broke them down layer by layer, analyzing them deeply, searching for their essence.

The movements of both magical beasts alternated before his eyes, and then Luo Tian began to dissect their skeletal motions, comparing them again and again, attempting to match and improve them according to the human body’s structure.

“Damn it, how dare you ignore me?” Wu Lei had first felt a sense of accomplishment and presence, but seeing Luo Tian pay him no heed, rage surged within him—he yearned to teach this fellow a lesson.

But such private fights were forbidden in the sect.

“Senior Brother Wu, I’ll say it again—Senior Brother Luo never deceived me, you needn’t meddle.” Zhao Lin’er recalled Luo Tian’s recent conduct; though not talkative, he gave her a sense of security, especially compared to Wu Lei, who was hard to look at. “Senior Brother Luo seems to be having an insight now; please don’t disturb him!”

“Junior Sister Zhao!” Wu Lei’s expression twisted in anguish. “I don’t know what nonsense that useless servant has fed you. Even if he helped you as a servant, there’s no need to keep him in mind. Think about it—two years as a servant, even if he had some stroke of luck afterwards, his poor talent is undeniable. What good comes from being close with someone like him? He’ll only hold you back!”

Poor talent? Holding people back?

Zhao Lin’er cast Wu Lei a pitying glance. Senior Brother Luo’s cultivation would frighten you senseless; even four or five Wu Leis together would be cut down by him like vegetables.

“Hm? What’s Luo Tian doing?” Tang Yue-ran spotted Luo Tian in a daze nearby, her curiosity piqued.

She had nearly completed her training in the Jade Maiden Pouring Bottle body refinement secret technique and was in good spirits, preparing to pick up a couple of tasks for variety. By chance she saw Luo Tian here.

“Senior Sister Tang, it seems Senior Brother Luo gained some insight after watching the Windwing Eagle, so he’s stopped here to think,” Zhao Lin’er explained, recognizing this elite of the Tang family, who had, at fifteen, reached the sixth rotation of the Qi Condensation realm—a true genius.

Of course, compared to Senior Brother Luo, she thought privately, though her face showed the perfect hint of respectful deference.

The descendants of the four great families, on average, were stronger than disciples of common origin, and tended to be younger; most ordinary disciples dared not provoke them.

“Junior Sister Tang, you’re here?” At that moment, Luo Tian opened his eyes, a smile curling at his lips.

Though brief, his contemplation had yielded excellent results, for the movements of both the Windwing Eagle and Skylark were still vivid in his memory, making understanding them much easier.

Junior Sister Tang?

Zhao Lin’er was dumbstruck. While sect relationships were determined by cultivation level, everyone knew that if an ordinary disciple brazenly addressed a descendant of the four great families as junior brother or sister, trouble would soon follow.

Although Luo Tian could defeat Sun Huangkun, who had reached the seventh rotation of Qi Condensation, that didn’t mean he could look down on all cultivators of the same rank.

She wondered how Senior Sister Tang would deal with him.

Wu Lei thought the same, feeling that his words had had no effect on Luo Tian, and was fuming, searching for an excuse to punish Luo Tian for deceiving Lin’er. Unexpectedly, the fool had just called Tang Yue-ran “Junior Sister.”

Wait for the Tang family’s elite to teach you a lesson! Wu Lei thought maliciously.

“Mm, Senior Brother Luo, have you gained anything?” Tang Yue-ran smiled gently, her warmth like a spring breeze.

Wait! Senior Brother Luo?

Wu Lei nearly swallowed his tongue.

Tang Yue-ran was known for her pride; not only did she ignore ordinary disciples, but even other descendants of the four great families received little response. Yet now she was smiling at this Luo Tian?

Was this possible?

“It’s thanks to the Windwing Eagle—I’ve gained some insight,” Luo Tian said with a smile and a nod.

So he truly hasn’t given up on refining body secret techniques—my efforts weren’t in vain.

Tang Yue-ran recalled her father’s words about Luo Tian, and her smile deepened. “There are some cultivation questions I’d like Senior Brother Luo to advise me on, if you have time now?”