Martial Universe: The Eyes That Determine the Fate

Chapter 44 Strange Mental Power

He earnestly followed the methods of the Purple Moon New Religion, relaxing his mind and restraining his deliberate force, using the gentlest divine thought to guide that wisp of spiritual power.

But the result remained unchanged.

Whether he forcibly controls it or gently guides it, as long as a fixed shape arises in his mind, and he wants to mold his spiritual power into the shape of a Divine Needle, the power hidden in his sea of ​​consciousness will generate a strange sense of resistance, and then disperse in all directions, refusing to obediently conform to his will to solidify and fixate.

It's not that he doesn't know the methods, nor that he lacks composure, nor that he has weak mental strength.

On the contrary, his spiritual power was too profound and too special, as if he possessed a vague sense of self-will, unwilling to be forcibly bound to a fixed form, and unwilling to become a mortal power that could be arbitrarily kneaded by his thoughts.

Ordinary people have shallow and weak spiritual power, like rootless duckweed, and can only be manipulated by their soul and thoughts, gathering when they want to gather, scattering when they want to scatter, and forming needles when they want to form needles.

But Li Yi is different.

He possesses the supreme foundation of double pupils, his divine soul is born with extraordinary talent, his sea of ​​consciousness is as vast as the primordial wilderness, and the spiritual power derived from it also has a proud and unruly charm, which is natural and has its own character. He is unwilling to be forcibly disciplined and shaped by the rigid and conventional methods of entering the talismanic path.

Like a naturally untamed steed, unwilling to be tethered and confined to a small space.

Once, twice, three times —

Li Yi tried repeatedly, carefully comprehending the methods taught by Zi Yue each time, strictly following every detail, thoroughly understanding the principles, and making no mistakes in the steps, but he could never cross the threshold of solidification.

Each time, when the mind tries to shape the object, the mental energy dissipates on its own, revealing a stubborn resistance.

After a long while, Li Yi slowly opened his eyes, a hint of understanding in them.

He had completely confirmed that it was not that his cultivation method was wrong, nor that he lacked comprehension; it was simply that his spiritual power was too special, had its own temperament, and was unwilling to be forcibly molded into a fixed form.

Ziyue watched him fail time and time again, her usually cool face now filled with surprise and confusion.

She could see it clearly: every time Li Yi entered meditation, his mind was stable and his spiritual guidance was just right, without any of the stiffness or restlessness of a beginner. However, his spiritual power just couldn't be concentrated and would dissipate without warning.

"Why is this happening?" Zi Yue murmured softly, her brows furrowed with confusion. "In terms of talent, soul, and state of mind, you are top-notch. Logically speaking, you should be able to easily condense the Divine Needle, so why are you stuck at this most basic step?"

She had cultivated the art of talismans for many years and had seen many talisman geniuses and mediocre people, but she had never encountered such a strange situation.

Strong mental power can be controlled with ease, and weak mental power can be mastered with gradual practice. Only Li Yi, with his full talent and profound foundation, is stumped by the simplest thing, condensing form.

Li Yi spoke calmly, repeating his previous words: "It's not that the method is wrong, it's that my mental energy is disobedient. It can flow and move with my thoughts, but it doesn't want to be deliberately molded into a fixed form, like—it doesn't like being restrained."

Zi Yue stared at him blankly, momentarily at a loss for words.

She couldn't understand this argument. Spiritual power is formless and intangible, originating from the soul, and should be completely under the control of a martial artist. How could it have likes or dislikes, or dislike being restrained?

But watching Li Yi's repeated, precise attempts, and seeing the mental energy that he could never seem to muster, she had to admit that the current situation was truly strange and unsettling.

The atmosphere in the courtyard fell silent for a moment. A gentle breeze swept by, carrying a few fallen leaves that drifted down and landed on the bluestone ground.

Zi Yue remained silent for a long time, her cold gaze fixed on Li Yi, a strange thought rising in her mind.

Perhaps, as he said, his spiritual power was too extraordinary and too unruly, and the rigid methods of ordinary talismanic cultivation could not restrain this innate extraordinary power.

The conventional path may not be suitable for this extraordinary talent.

Li Yi sat still, his mind still immersed in his sea of ​​consciousness, silently sensing the flow and pulsation of that spiritual power, his expression calm and undisturbed.

He did not rush to force the solidification of the form, but instead began to follow the rhythm of that spiritual power, silently resonating and merging with it, not forcibly shaping it, but simply quietly accompanying and sensing it.

Within the sea of ​​consciousness, vast as the ocean, a hazy spiritual energy surged and undulated, carrying an ancient and desolate aura, like a colossal beast that had slept for millennia, languid and unrestrained by external constraints.

Li Yi's divine sense flowed gently like a stream, slowly swirling around it. There was no longer any intention to force it; it simply followed its original trajectory, slowly conforming to it and silently sensing the unique rhythm hidden within.

He could clearly sense that deep within this spiritual power lay an indescribable supreme aura, hazy and ethereal, permeating the very origin of his soul. It was the innate foundation inherited from his double pupils and supreme bones, the arrogance and domineering strength that had been precipitated over the years.

Such power transcends the shackles of mortal talismanic arts, so how could it willingly be molded into a needle shape at will and confined to the minuscule?

Time passed slowly, the sun gradually set in the west, and the warm yellow afterglow spilled into the courtyard, coating the bluestone bricks and tiles with a soft halo.

Zi Yue stood quietly to the side, not disturbing him, but her gaze remained fixed on Li Yi, her eyes filled with lingering surprise. She felt that this young man was mysterious and unpredictable, as if he were shrouded in a layer of mist, making it impossible for anyone to see through him.

Just as Li Yi was calming his mind and resonating with his own spiritual power, deeply comprehending his own Daoist essence, a gloomy atmosphere had already begun to settle over the Blood Robe Sect's headquarters.

The elite group of fighters that Wei Tong sent out a few days ago were all seasoned veterans of the Blood Robe Sect with considerable cultivation. Each of them possessed cultivation levels ranging from Earth Origin to Heaven Origin. When they joined forces, ordinary martial artists of the same level would find it difficult to contend with them.

They were ordered to find the person with double pupils and investigate the truth, but several days have passed quietly, and not a single person has returned. It's as if they've sunk to the bottom of the sea, and not a single word has been sent back.

An undercurrent of unease gradually rose within the Blood Robe Sect. The elite disciples who had been dispatched were all filled with anxiety and whispered amongst themselves, but no one dared to utter a single word in front of Wei Tong.

Inside the council hall, the atmosphere was as oppressive as frozen ice.

Wei Tong sat in the main seat, his dark red clothes making his face appear even more sinister. A hint of malice surged between his brows. His fingers tapped lightly on the armrest, the dull sound echoing slowly in the silent hall. Each tap seemed to strike the heart, making the few trusted men standing below dare not even breathe.

"How many days has it been?"

After a long silence, Wei Tong slowly spoke, his voice low and hoarse, carrying a hint of icy coldness.

"Reporting to the sect leader, it has been a full seven days." A steward below bowed his head, his tone respectful yet fearful.

Seven days.

After sending out a dozen elite soldiers, they disappeared without a trace once they set out on the road. They were nowhere to be found, neither alive nor dead. This situation could not help but arouse anger and unease in Wei Tong's heart.