Martial Arts Crossover: The Sweeping Monk of Wudang? That's our patriarch!

As he rode the wind, he transmitted his voice in a deep voice: "Retreat this way! Live now!"

How could we stand idly by when our fellow disciples are in trouble? But when Wan Botao heard his voice, instead of relaxing, he roared, "Lin Daochen, don't come any closer! This thing... you can't handle it!"

"Tell Xiao Cui for me that the engagement is off! Please deliver her last words... I'm so sorry to my parents..."

Before he could finish speaking, Lin Daochen had already caught a glimpse of the churning dust ahead—Wan Botao was running for his life, with a centipede leaping like lightning behind him. Its carapace was dark and bluish-black, and its limbs were menacing. It was a ferocious creature in the late stage of the Nascent Soul realm!

This insect is impervious to swords and blades, burrows into the ground like mud, survives severed limbs, and its hundred legs still move; even more terrifying is that each of its poisonous claws is coated with deadly venom, killing instantly upon contact with blood. Ordinary cultivators would turn and flee at the sight of it, their legs too weak to move, yet this group was relentlessly pursued by it, seemingly having encountered some terrible misfortune.

Wan Botao suddenly turned his head and saw Lin Daochen rushing towards him. His face was filled with struggle. Finally, he gritted his teeth and blocked the way, raising his arms sharply—a pair of golden-toothed Dharma wheels spun out with a hum, their blades gleaming coldly.

"You guys go! I'll cover your retreat!"

"Remember this—your lives belong to Wan Botao!"

At this moment, his back was straight, and his robes were fluttering, giving him a truly heroic air of sacrificing himself for his life.

Just as the centipede arched its body to pounce, a foot stomped on the back of his head with a "thud".

Lin Daochen stood in mid-air, his flying sword unsheathed, lightning crackling, and he forcefully activated the Nine Heavens Thunder Control True Technique!

Wan Botao froze on the spot, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets—a mere early-stage Golden Core cultivator dared to confront a late-stage Nascent Soul demon beast head-on? He himself had risked his life to dare turn back, so what gave this kid the right to do that?

The next instant, his soul vanished.

A barrage of lightning crashed down, plunging the centipede into a ghastly white inferno. The sound of shattering metal was deafening; hundreds of limbs severed from half its body! Inky black venomous blood splattered like rain.

Lin Daochen pointed his sword finger, and the sword spun rapidly in mid-air; he made hand seals and exhaled a breath—red, blue, and gold flames roared and surged, burning away the void!

Samadhi is really hot?

Wan Botao's mind went blank, as if he had been struck by lightning. They were from the same school, so why could others casually combine lightning magic with true fire, while he was still swinging his arm with gears?

Could it be... that a face with an otherworldly air can truly be used as a spirit stone?

On the other side, several fellow disciples quietly tugged at Wan Botao's sleeve, their eyes fixed on the arena, their voices tense.

"This move...it looks kind of familiar?"

Upon hearing this, the others also widened their eyes and gasped.

"Isn't this an innate divine ability possessed only by demonic beasts?"

"Yes! That's what that dragon looks like when it breathes fire!"

Lin Daochen possesses extraordinary comprehension; he can grasp the essence of any technique he sees after just one glance and replicate seven-tenths of it.

Even the flames born of nature cannot escape the fundamental principles of heaven and earth—once you understand the laws within, wielding them becomes as natural as breathing.

The Samadhi True Fire roared up and instantly enveloped the centipede. The insect immediately let out a heart-wrenching scream, its carapace crackled and exploded, and the smell of burning flesh assaulted the nostrils.

Even a Nascent Soul Realm demon beast would find it difficult to withstand this fire, let alone one that had just been severely injured.

But as the firelight faded and the aroma of roasted meat lingered, the centipede had already shed its charred shell, new scales covered its body, its severed limbs regenerated, and its injuries were fully healed, as if it had never been beaten.

Lin Daochen didn't even lift his eyelids.

It would be strange if Nascent Soul stage demons were so easy to kill.

As he expected, his movements were so fast that he was just a blur, darting and piercing around the centipede, his fists and palms raining down like raindrops. But a vast chasm of skill lay before him; each strike felt like hitting a rocky cliff, numbing his knuckles, yet only leaving a few white marks on the centipede's hard shell.

If this drags on any longer, the commotion will inevitably attract a steady stream of demonic beasts, and might even alarm any passing rogue cultivators—who knows if they might run into a ruthless character with a bad temper?

Lin Daochen suddenly shrugged and inhaled, his meridians suddenly glowing faintly, his blood and qi surging like a tide, and dark golden lines spreading from his back to his fingertips.

These days he has repeatedly deduced and honed his skills. Although he has not yet reached the power of Qingluan, which can burn mountains and boil seas, he has managed to raise his combat strength to the threshold of the Nascent Soul stage.

With power flowing into his body, his attacks became effortless.

Within moments, the centipede had been beaten so badly that its limbs were torn off and its abdominal armor shattered, and it lay sprawled on the ground, convulsing uncontrollably.

At that moment, a soft "pop" sounded above its head, and a palm-sized, translucent insect emerged, its entire body crystal clear, fluttering its wings as if trying to escape—it was its nascent soul!

Wan Botao reacted extremely quickly. With a flash of sword light, a cold gleam cleaved through the air. The nascent soul didn't even have time to scream before turning into a wisp of green smoke and dissipating into the wind.

The fellow disciples stood there stunned, their expressions completely changed.

No one expected that the boy under Elder Qingluan, who was always called "little thief," would possess such terrifying skills.

Earlier, some people shook their heads and sighed, saying that this old man would never have any hope of making any progress in his life...

Now it seems that with this overwhelming strength, even if one's dantian is depleted and one is stuck at the Golden Core stage for life, what does it matter?

Elder Qingluan is only at the Qi Refining stage, yet she fought a dragon alone a few days ago, causing the sky to darken and mountains to crumble; while Lin Daochen is already at the early Golden Core stage, how could his future achievements be inferior to that legendary elder?

As the battle ended, Wan Botao deftly dissected the centipede's abdomen, pulled out a demon core shimmering with a ghostly light, and approached Lin Daochen with a beaming smile.

"Senior brother, please keep your spoils safe!"

Lin Daochen didn't refuse, stuffing the map into his robes. His gaze swept over the young faces of his fellow disciples, and he asked in a calm tone, "Do any of you have a map of this secret realm?"

As soon as the words were spoken, the group looked at each other and shook their heads in unison.

"Senior brother, you may not know this, but these kinds of secret realm maps are always the most treasured possessions of major sects. How could a small sect like ours possibly have a chance to get our hands on one!"

Lin Daochen nodded, not at all surprised—he had already seen through the clues, and every word he said was true.

Just as they were pondering a solution, Wan Botao suddenly leaned closer, winking and whispering, "Senior brother, what exactly was that fire just now? Why was it so powerful?"

This question gave Lin Daochen a sudden inspiration.

Forcibly seizing a map may not necessarily make someone hand it over willingly; but what if you exchange it?

If you have enough leverage, changing your map might not be a pipe dream.

He immediately reached out and put his hand on Wan Botao's shoulder, a slight smile playing on his lips, his voice carrying a hint of probing yet also revealing complete confidence:

"Junior brother, I have an idea that might make us a fortune. But... we'll need you guys to lend a hand."

"So, are you in or not?"

Wan Botao's eyes darted around, and he immediately bent down and jumped down. The old man with a cane in front of him was the backbone he had recognized. Being able to help his boss solve his problems was a job he couldn't ask for.

"Don't worry, senior brother. As long as you need us, we'll go through fire and water without hesitation!"

"That's too harsh—I don't expect you to risk your lives, I just hope you can run a few errands for me and pass on a few messages."

To put it bluntly, Lin Daochen's plan was not complicated at all.

From that moment on, the entire ruins seemed to be thrown into the water with pebbles, and news spread like wildfire: Under the tallest ancient tree in the jungle, there dwells an old man who knows everything, who is very likely the spirit of this place.

Anyone who brings their own attack techniques to pay homage can exchange them for a more profound inheritance within half an incense stick's time.

However, there is a strict requirement—the elderly person must first hand over their personal map so that they can complete the full picture of the ruins.

At first, few believed, but the first disciple who gritted his teeth and tried it actually brought back the improved version of the "Azure Qi Guiding Technique," leaving everyone dumbfounded. The news spread like wildfire, and disciples from all sects rushed to the ancient tree, disregarding even the rules of their sects, only caring about picking out their most treasured techniques to stuff into their pockets in exchange for a copy of the new method.

Of course, major sects have deep foundations, so how could they easily reveal their core attack methods? But if one could really find a superior method, even if it was just a fragment or a side note, it would be worth taking the gamble.

At this moment, Lin Daochen was squatting at the tangled tree roots. The human skin mask fit perfectly, and even the wrinkles on the forehead were lifelike.

Her silver hair was gently tossed by the mountain breeze, so smooth it looked as if it had been soaked in morning dew. Combined with the shadows of pines and moss and the swirling mist, she looked exactly like a hermit who lived a secluded life.

More and more practitioners gathered, and disciples from both major and minor sects lined up in rows, holding the attack method in both hands and respectfully handing it into his open old cloth bag.

But where did he get the massive amount of attack methods to distribute? The few books he had earlier were just counterfeit products that he had disassembled, reassembled, and erased the originals of overnight before throwing them away.

Nowadays, they've simply started playing the "borrowing chickens to lay eggs" game—passing on the secret manuals passed down from their predecessors to their successors; the same "Crimson Flame Palm" manual can fool seven or eight naive youngsters. Anyway, everyone who gets their hands on it keeps it a secret, and no one wants to reveal its secrets.

As a result, the number of attack methods on Lin Daochen's desk kept piling up, turning it into the most abundant "attack method market." He had originally planned to find the treasure in the dark after obtaining the complete map, but now he had saved a lot of effort—having others search through his belongings was faster than him exploring secret passages himself.

Gazing at the ever-growing stack of bamboo slips and jade scrolls, Wan Botao's Adam's apple bobbed, and his palms were drenched in sweat. He never dreamed he could do something like this…

In my heart, I could only sigh in admiration: Senior brother's move was both ruthless and ingenious.

If everyone knew the truth, they would probably tear down the ancient tree on the spot and nail him to the stump.

Fortune can be found in danger—in just half a day, the secret manuals of divine skills had filled three wicker baskets, roughly more than three hundred in total.

Lin Daochen's fingertips traced the yellowed pages, a subtle smile playing on his lips. Although he had not yet deciphered the restrictions of the Heavenly Dao Scroll, he had already collected five ancient methods specifically for cultivating the divine soul.

……

The more diverse the attack methods, the wider the deduction path. As long as enough spiritual techniques are accumulated, that door will eventually be broken open.

He was unaware that once the nascent soul was formed, the divine soul would naturally condense, and the nascent soul only needed to probe into the sea of ​​consciousness to directly touch the scroll's main body.

Unfortunately, his realm was not yet reached, so he had to find another way—using all laws as bricks to build a divine soul altar.

Three days passed, and after exhausting all the participants, Lin Daochen finally devised his own method for refining the divine soul:

The Technique of Returning the Three Souls and Seven Spirits to Their Origin

Once this technique is completed, the scattered three souls and the wandering seven spirits are all gathered together and condensed into an indestructible true form.

From then on, the intangible could be touched, and the illusory realm could be trodden upon.

The moment his attack landed, his mind sank into the depths of his sea of ​​consciousness, heading straight for the floating, motionless scroll of the Heavenly Dao.

This time, my fingertips truly touched it—

In the blink of an eye, a vast torrent of information surged in! An ancient roar seemed to echo in my ears, each word piercing my very soul:

"It's all fake! It's all a scam! Ascension... it's all a complete and utter lie..."

"The Way of Heaven... is not a just judge..."

"It's all an illusion... the truth buried since ancient times..."

"Lord of the Realm...tearing apart the galaxy..."

The voices were as faint as a whisper, intermittent and fragmented. Countless such whispers were mixed in with the scroll of the Heavenly Dao, but only a few could be pieced together to make sense.

In an instant, those sounds were burned to ashes, leaving not a trace—the mighty power of heaven descended with a roar, sweeping across his entire domain of divine consciousness.

Golden patterns suddenly appeared on the surface of his condensed divine soul, blazing, sharp, and unbearable to look at, as if forged by the first strand of law at the beginning of the world, towering above all spirits and ruling over the eight wastelands.

Upon obtaining this strange golden pattern, Lin Daochen felt his vision clear up, and the world suddenly shed its haziness, as if a long-dusted mirror had been wiped clean—mountains, rocks, grass, trees, the pulse of air, and the flow of spiritual energy were all clearly visible, so clear that it made one's heart tremble.

He was in deep meditation when he suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze bright and his expression slightly shaken, as if his soul had been cleaved by a thunderbolt, washing away all impurities and leaving him feeling light and radiant.

Wan Botao blinked, staring blankly at him, "Senior brother? What's wrong?"

"It's nothing... How long has it been?"

Upon hearing this, Wan Botao immediately jumped up: "Hurry, hurry! There are only three days left before this site closes! Everyone has already rushed to the next checkpoint!"

Lin Daochen was still caught in the aftershocks, his mind churning—what did these fragmented pieces of information point to? He was at a loss, but a voice in his heart spoke with certainty: he had inadvertently touched upon a vast scheme spanning ancient times.

Could it be that... this so-called ascension is nothing but a complete hoax?

But that is ultimately too far away. For a cultivator in the early stage of the Golden Core realm, the idea of ​​ascension is still just a mirage.

He took a deep breath, quickly composed himself, and led everyone straight to the next trial site.