From a loser to an immortal sage

Chapter 447 Mastering Immortal Arts to Overcome Crisis

The burning pain in my left shoulder felt like being doused with boiling oil, shooting along my meridians to every part of my body.

I stumbled into the black mist, but clung tightly to the edge of the half-seal—it was icy to the touch, and the patterns seemed to come alive, drilling into my fingertips. It was the "Reverse Scale Pattern" mentioned in the immortal arts inheritance, the key to sealing the most core.

"Ah Yao!" Wen Chen's roar was crushed by the ferocious beast's howl.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stagger towards me, his headband snapping, his silver hair stained dark red with blood mist.

His already depleted spiritual energy scattered into stars in mid-air, unable to even touch the hem of my clothes with his fingertips. He could only watch helplessly as I was swallowed up by the black mist.

"This little brat is quite the troublemaker." Blood Fiend's laughter echoed like a rusty gong across the ruins' dome.

He leaned against the collapsed stone wall, his fingernails still stained with the black blood of the previous battle. "It's just a last gasp before death. Once that talisman shatters in your hands—"

"Don't rush to conclusions." Mo Yu's voice was like ice water. I couldn't see his face, but I felt a chill on the back of my neck.

This mysterious figure, who always preferred to lurk in the shadows, took a half-step forward, his dark cloak sweeping across the scattered pebbles. "Her magical fluctuations... are quite interesting."

I bit my tongue, the taste of blood exploding in my mouth—only pain could bring me back to my senses.

The last lesson Master Huixin taught me flashed through my mind: "Immortal arts are not the accumulation of spiritual power, but the resonance between the heart and the heavens and earth."

When you feel like you've reached a dead end, try... putting yourself inside a talisman.

Yes, put it into the talisman.

I closed my eyes tightly, refusing to listen to the noise from the outside world.

The wound on his left shoulder was still bleeding, but the blood droplets didn't fall to the ground; instead, they followed the trajectory of the reverse scale pattern and drilled into the talisman.

The last vestige of spiritual energy within me vanished like water drained from a spring. I panicked for a moment, then remembered Wen Chen's words: "You always see yourself as a spark, but sometimes, you need to be the wind that ignites the fire."

wind?

I vaguely saw the scene when I first met Wen Chen: he stood on the cloud, his clothes fluttering, and the sword light at his fingertips was not from slashing, but flowed out with the direction of the wind.

I was wrong all along. Magic is not something you "use" to get; it comes out naturally.

The black mist suddenly surged, and the shockwaves generated by the beast's claws almost made me lose my footing.

Zi Ling's sobs mingled with Master Hui Xin's chanting of Buddhist scriptures, crashing into my ears: "Amitabha, may good thoughts avert calamity..." Elder Qing Feng's wine gourd clattered to my feet, the smell of wine mixed with the stench of blood wafting into my nostrils—he didn't even bother to pick up the wine, he was clutching his wrinkled Taoist robe, his knuckles so white they looked like they were about to crack.

"Ayao, look at me." Wen Chen's voice suddenly came closer, as close as if it were right next to her ear.

I opened my eyes and saw that he had rushed into the black mist at some point, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, yet he was smiling gently.

His hand was raised to protect my head, even though he was almost out of spiritual energy, he still tried to block the fiercest wind blade for me.

“I’m looking at you,” I said softly.

The reverse scale pattern suddenly became incredibly hot, and the cracks on the talisman began to spread towards my palm.

Those fragments of immortal arts I had overlooked suddenly came to life: Master Huixin tapping the wooden fish and talking about "heart seal", Elder Qingfeng drunkenly talking about "destruction before construction", Ziling holding up a candied hawthorn and saying "Ayao, when you smile, the talisman will glow" - it turns out that all the teachings were for this moment.

The beast's breath sprayed onto the back of my neck, hot, humid, and foul.

Its claws were half a foot above my head, and I could even see the black blood beads congealed on the tips of its claws.

Xue Sha's laughter suddenly stopped, and Mo Yu's breathing became rapid—they probably sensed that something was different in this black mist.

I loosened my grip on the talisman.

The instant the reverse scale pattern entered the skin, the entire sea of ​​consciousness became as bright as day.

The spiritual power I had exhausted, and the immortal techniques suppressed by the ferocious beasts, actually flowed in from the heavens and earth, from the sword energy left by Wen Chen, from the Buddhist chants of Abbess Huixin, and from Zi Ling's heartbeat, following the patterns of the talisman.

"I see," I murmured, feeling my fingertips begin to glow.

It wasn't the weak golden light from before; it was as bright as the rising sun breaking through the clouds, so bright that even the black mist began to fade.

Wen Chen's eyes suddenly widened, and he reached out to touch the end of my hair—golden wisps of light floated up there, the "spiritual essence" that only appears when one's immortal arts are perfected.

"This is impossible..." Blood Fiend staggered backward, the Xuan Tie Sword clattering to the ground.

Mo Yu's cloak billowed even without wind, and for the first time, a look of panic appeared on his face. His fingertips drew blood: "She...she drew upon the spiritual energy of heaven and earth?"

Master Huixin held her prayer beads in her hand again, tears streaming down her wrinkles. The clinking of the beads was mingled with sobs: "It's done... the heart seal is done..." Ziling suddenly jumped up, her hair ribbon lifted by the wind, but her smile was brighter than ever: "Ayao's light!"

Ah Yao's light has returned! Elder Qingfeng took a big gulp of wine, the liquid dripping down his chin, and suddenly burst into laughter: "If I had even a fraction of that girl's ruthlessness back then, how could I have ended up like this..."

The beast's roar changed, and its massive body began to tremble.

I could clearly feel the violence within it receding, and the black mist was being gradually devoured by the golden light.

The reverse scale pattern flowed across my palm, and I finally saw the complete picture of the talisman—it turned out that the last fragment was never from the outside world, but from within my own heart.

Wen Chen suddenly grasped my hand; his palm was sweaty, yet warm as a flame: "Ayao, you're radiating light."

I looked down at myself, and sure enough, it was true.

From fingertips to hair ends, from heart to toe, tiny golden rays floated everywhere.

The lights connected into lines, then into a network, and finally coalesced into a beam of light that pierced straight through the dome.

The sunlight outside the ruins streamed in through the beams of light, illuminating the beast's single horn until it lost its color.

“Almost there,” I heard myself say.

The wound on my left shoulder still hurts, but it hurts intensely, and it keeps me awake.

The beast's claws were still hovering above my head, but I knew that no matter how fast its attack was, it couldn't outrun the light in my heart.

Wen Chen gently wiped away the tears from the corner of my eye with his thumb: "I believe you."

I closed my eyes.

Every character in those inherited immortal techniques surged within his sea of ​​consciousness, and every talisman resonated with heaven and earth.

The energy within me was still rising, so much so that I almost felt like I was floating.

I could hear Xue Sha's curses, Mo Yu's low panting, Zi Ling's cheers being swept away by the wind, Master Hui Xin's chanting of Buddhist prayer beads faster and faster, and Elder Qing Feng's wine gourd rolling further away.

But none of that matters anymore.

Most importantly, I finally grasped the essence of immortal arts—not confrontation, but integration; not conquest, but resonance.

Those hurdles I thought I couldn't overcome, those battles I thought I couldn't win, turned out to require only...

"boom--"

Just as the beast's claws came crashing down with a whooshing sound, I suddenly opened my eyes.

When the beast's claws were only three inches from my brow, I finally merged my last wisp of heart into the world.

The golden light at his fingertips suddenly solidified, like a red-hot sword piercing through the black mist with a hiss.

That light was unlike any magic I had ever used before. It carried the coolness of Wen Chen's sword energy, the compassion of Master Huixin's Buddhist chants, and even the sweetness of Zi Ling's candied hawthorns—this was the ultimate form of magic, a rope twisted together between heaven and earth, representing everything I cherished, experienced, and understood.

"Ah Yao!" Wen Chen's roar was shattered by the wave of light.

I saw the blood droplets on his silver hair held up by golden light, condensing into tiny rainbows in mid-air.

He tried to pounce, but was pushed back by the overwhelming force. He could only stretch out his trembling hand, with glints of sword light leaking between his fingers, as if he wanted to block a little more for me.

The beast's roar turned into a whimper.

Its massive body began to disintegrate, and golden-red blood seeped from beneath its black scales, like asphalt melted by fire.

I could clearly feel its ferocity waning—not being destroyed by me, but being assimilated by the "qi" within this light.

Just as Master Huixin said, magic is not about annihilation, but about giving violence a place to go.

The Blood Fiend's Xuan Tie Sword clattered down at my feet.

He knelt on the ground, the scars on his face shining in the golden light, his lips trembling as he muttered something unintelligible, before finally scrambling and crawling deeper into the ruins.

Mo Yu's cloak was flipped up by the wave of light, revealing his pale face. He glanced at me, then suddenly made a hand seal, and his whole body dissipated like a cloud of black mist—this was the first time he hadn't left behind a single sinister word.

"Amitabha..." Master Huixin's prayer beads spun rapidly in her palm. Her wrinkled hands pressed against her chest, tears streaming down her nose. "Goodness, goodness." Ziling suddenly appeared at my feet, her hair ribbon half-undone, her blood-stained hands gripping my clothes tightly. Her sobs mingled with laughter: "I knew Ayao was the best!"

"I knew it!" Elder Qingfeng's wine gourd rolled over again. This time, instead of picking it up, he tilted his head back and gulped down a mouthful of wine, the liquid dripping down his beard. He suddenly wiped his face with his sleeve: "I've lived for two hundred years, and only today have I truly witnessed the magic of immortals."

Wen Chen was finally getting close.

His fingertips gently touched the shavings in my hair, as if afraid of breaking something, his voice hoarse: "Does it hurt?" Only then did I notice that the bleeding from the wound on my left shoulder had stopped at some point, and a faint golden light floated around the wound, slowly healing.

It turns out that after mastering the art of immortality, one can even draw upon the heavens and earth to replenish life force.

"It doesn't hurt." I smiled at him, but tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.

Those teeth clenched during those wasted years, the embarrassment of being mocked during the spiritual root test, and the nights when they almost froze to death in the secret realm—all of these suddenly transformed into warmth in their chests, spreading outwards along with the golden light.

The beast's final roar sent rocks crashing down from the ceiling.

Its single horn snapped with a "crack," turning into countless stars, which also cleansed away the black mist of the entire ruins.

Sunlight streamed down from the shattered dome, illuminating Zi Ling's blood-stained hair, Hui Xin's Buddhist prayer beads, and Wen Chen's blood-stained white robes—the sky inside these ruins was once a deep, clear blue.

"Is it over?" Zi Ling looked up, sobbing, tears still clinging to her eyelashes.

"It's over." Abbess Huixin wiped her eyes with her sleeve and solemnly hung the prayer beads back on her wrist. "Young friend, you have passed the test of this immortal artifact relic."

Elder Qingfeng suddenly kicked the wine gourd beside his feet: "Shouldn't we be leaving?"

If we stay any longer, these dilapidated ruins might collapse.

But as we headed towards the exit, a sudden change occurred.

At the site of the collapsed stone gate, a pale blue teleportation portal has appeared out of nowhere.

It is like a water mirror ruffled by the wind, with fine runes flowing across its surface, and you can faintly hear the clear sound of a bell behind the door.

I had only taken three steps closer when my heart suddenly felt hot—it was the pulsation of the reverse scales under my skin, as if responding to something.

"Wait!" Abbess Huixin suddenly grabbed my wrist, her palms sweating. "This portal... something's not right."

The old nun had guarded the ruins for a hundred years and had never seen this thing before.

Zi Ling leaned closer, her eyes shining like stars: "Could it be the next level of immortal arts inheritance?"

Ah Yao has just reached the peak of her cultivation; perhaps a new opportunity awaits her!

Wen Chen's fingers rested on my pulse, his brow furrowing slightly: "The spiritual energy fluctuations within the gate... originate from the same source as the Reverse Scale Mark within your body."

I touched the burning spot on my chest and suddenly remembered what Master Huixin had said when she taught me "Heart Imprint": "The true inheritance of immortal arts is never in ruins, but in far more distant places." The sound of the bell behind the door was somewhat similar to the rhythm of her striking the wooden fish.

“Danger.” Abbess Huixin pressed her thumb heavily on my Mingmen acupoint on my wrist. “This old nun can sense that there is… karma within this door.”

Elder Qingfeng suddenly took a swig of wine, the smell of which mingled with his hoarse laughter: "Girl, if you really want to go, I'll protect you."

I was too timid back then, which is why I missed such a great opportunity.

The portal's pull suddenly intensified, and wisps of light from my hair began to drift into it, like kites being pulled by a string.

Wen Chen gently placed his hand on the back of my hand, without pushing or urging me, but simply stroking the reverse scale lines on my palm with his thumb—that was his way of understanding me best: you make the decision, I will always be there.

I gazed at the surging blue light within the doorway, and Master Huixin's words echoed in my ears again: "The path of immortal arts, in the end, is the path one chooses oneself."

A breeze blew out from inside the door, carrying a familiar scent of grass and trees.

I touched the lingering shavings in my hair and suddenly remembered what Wen Chen had said when we first met: "There's a fire in your eyes, don't let it go out."

The fire burned even brighter at that moment.

Master Huixin slowly released her grip, looked into my eyes, and sighed softly, "Never mind... Although this old nun is worried, I believe you can distinguish between what's important and what's not."

Ziling tugged at my sleeve, her voice tinged with excitement: "Wherever Ayao goes, I'll go!"

Elder Qingfeng hung his wine gourd on his waist, clattering it loudly: "I haven't had enough yet!"

Wen Chen tapped the back of my hand with her fingertips, her voice as soft as the wind: "I'm here."

Within the blue light of the portal, the bell rang again.

As I gazed at that ball of light, I suddenly remembered myself when I first transmigrated and was called a "good-for-nothing" on the street.

Back then, I thought cultivating immortality meant risking my life to climb higher; now I understand that cultivating immortality means risking my life to see the scenery further away.

But just as I was about to step inside, I stopped.

Looking back, Master Huixin was still standing in the same spot, her shadow stretched long by the sunlight, like a compassionate Buddha.

I suddenly realized that some paths must ultimately be walked alone.

“Master,” I bowed to her, “I will return to hear you speak of the Heart Seal.”

She wiped her eyes and smiled like the spring sun: "Old nun, just wait."

As the light from the portal enveloped me, I took one last look at Wen Chen.

His silver hair fluttered in the wind, and his eyes shone as if they held stars.

I know that no matter what's behind the door, as long as I turn around, he'll always be there.

But just as the light completely enveloped my vision, I heard a clear, melodious crane's cry from behind the door, followed by a voice, both strange and familiar, softly saying, "Welcome home."

(The blue light of the portal faded into the distance behind me. I touched the burning Reverse Scale pattern on my chest and suddenly felt a little dazed—was this portal a new beginning or a predetermined destination?)

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