Primordial Era: The Great Celestial Venerable on the Road to Mythology

Chapter 72 Martial Arts Analysis, Shennong Descends to Earth

When martial arts reach the Great Luo level, one condenses the true meaning of martial arts, merges with the undying spiritual light, and follows the path of the unity of spirit and body.

This differs from the physical ascension to sainthood of the Wu tribe—the Wu tribe relies solely on physical strength, without cultivating the primordial spirit or practicing true intent. In contrast, a martial artist's true intent can be separated, both to empower themselves and to be projected outwards to fight enemies.

Therefore, the combat power of the prehistoric warriors is extremely terrifying. Although they are slightly inferior to the witch clan in close combat, they have the advantage of using spiritual treasures, making them suitable for both close and long-range combat, and possessing both offensive and defensive capabilities.

The reason why their physical bodies are inferior to those of the Wu Clan is simply unavoidable. The Wu Clan was formed from the turbid and malevolent energy of heaven and earth mixed with the essence and blood of Pangu, and their origin is completely different from that of ordinary beings.

The turbid and malevolent energy is the nemesis of the primordial spirit's power. From the perspective of the primordial world, simply put: the primordial spirit belongs to Yin, while the malevolent energy belongs to Yang; therefore, the primordial spirit is inherently restrained by the malevolent energy.

Of course, this concept of "yin and yang" is only relative and is far from reaching the level of Haotian refining yin to return to yang and turning falsehood into truth.

What Haotian pursues is a higher-dimensional transformation of Yin and Yang, which is far beyond the ordinary generation and restraint of the Five Elements. Its true meaning is the distinction between truth and falsehood.

As for the turbid energy, although it doesn't directly suppress the primordial spirit, it does pollute the physical body and corrode magical power. In close combat against the Witch Clan, cultivators are at a disadvantage at every turn—their primordial spirit is suppressed by the baleful energy, and their physical bodies are polluted by the turbid energy. Not to mention the top-tier Great Witches, who have already condensed their indestructible spiritual light, their physical bodies comparable to innate spiritual treasures. How can such beings possibly engage in close combat?

Martial artists are different. Although they cannot charge around with their bare bodies like the witches, they are not restrained by evil energy.

A martial artist's physical body and true intent are both fused with undying spiritual light, making them comparable to innate spiritual treasures. To kill a martial artist at the True Martial Realm is extremely difficult unless there is a significant difference in strength between the two parties, or the martial artist possesses an extremely powerful offensive spiritual treasure.

Furthermore, martial artists can use spiritual treasures. The true meaning of martial arts even possesses some of the abilities of the primordial spirit. Although not as omnipotent as the primordial spirit, it is sufficient in certain aspects.

The true meaning of the Eight Trigrams by Fuxi is an excellent example. The true meaning of the Eight Trigrams is not only unparalleled in both offense and defense, but also has an extremely terrifying ability to deduce.

The Great Luo level of martial artists was named "True Warrior" by Fuxi.

As for the path after True Martial, it is to continuously improve one's martial arts essence and physical body, ultimately breaking the limitations of the world and achieving Hunyuan. This path is one of proving the Dao through strength, extremely difficult, but also with a promising future.

As martial arts spread among humans, the strength of the human race greatly increased. After ordinary members of the race learned martial arts, their physical abilities far surpassed what they had before, their hunting efficiency increased several times over, and casualties were greatly reduced.

Those exceptionally talented warriors, after cultivating to a certain level, can even take on a hundred opponents single-handedly, becoming the backbone of the tribe.

However, the increase in strength also brought new problems with food.

With a larger population, the need for food also increased. While hunting could solve the immediate problem, it gradually became insufficient to meet the growing population's demands. Friction between tribes over prey, water, and territory also became increasingly frequent.

Although Fuxi tried his best to mediate, he could only treat the symptoms, not the root cause.

A crisis is quietly approaching for humanity.

In the desolate southwest, on the banks of the Jiang River.

The Jiang clan was located here, nestled against the mountains and beside the water, making a living by fishing and hunting. The clan was small, but they lived in peace and contentment.

It was the height of summer, the sun blazing, the air stifling and oppressive. The Jiang River flowed ceaselessly, its banks lush with vegetation.

Outside an ordinary stone house on the edge of the tribe, a group of tribesmen had gathered. Some looked expectant, others anxious, all staring intently at the tightly closed stone door. Inside, the cries of a woman giving birth could be heard, each one louder than the last, tugging at the heartstrings of everyone present.

The midwife bustled about inside, her forehead glistening with sweat. The village elders whispered amongst themselves, speculating about the child's gender, appearance, and—whether—would he become a warrior for the tribe.

At that very moment—

Without warning, the surging ginger water suddenly stopped.

The surging river, as if held down by an invisible hand, defied all reason and surged upwards, condensing into a crystal-clear water dragon that coiled above the stone house.

Sunlight refracted through the water dragon, transforming into a sky full of colorful rainbows, enveloping the entire stone house in a dazzling radiance.

Even more strangely, the sky was cloudless, yet specks of crimson clouds appeared out of nowhere, gathering into clusters like burning flames, hanging low over the top of the stone roof, radiating a warm but not scorching glow.

"A strange phenomenon has occurred!"

"Red clouds hang low, auspicious omens abound; water dragons offer blessings—this child is extraordinary!"

Before the exclamations of the tribespeople had even subsided, a loud and clear eagle cry pierced the sky!

"Wow--!"

The loud cries of a baby came from inside the stone house, mingling with the cry of an eagle, as if the heavens and earth were in harmony.

The stone gate opened, and the midwife emerged, carrying a baby in swaddling clothes. Her face was filled with excitement, and her voice trembled: "It's born! It's a boy! Mother and child are safe!"

The tribespeople immediately erupted in thunderous cheers.

With trembling hands, the old clan chief carefully took the baby, looking at his rosy little face with eyes full of love and expectation.

"This child possesses extraordinary birthmarks; he is no ordinary person," the old clan chief murmured. "Let's call him—Lieshan Clan."

The baby seemed to understand its name, stopped crying, opened its clear, watery eyes, and curiously looked around at this unfamiliar world.

The strange phenomenon of red clouds along the Jiang River quickly transformed into a mysterious legend passed down orally among the tribes, spreading throughout the surrounding area.

Twenty years have passed quietly like flowing water.

The baby who was born amidst the strange vision has grown into a tall and handsome young man.

Lieshan was tall and slender with a handsome face and an innate gentleness and wisdom in his eyes. Unlike other young men in the tribe who were fond of fighting, he preferred to wander alone in the mountains and forests, observing the growth and sprouting of plants and trees, and contemplating the laws of nature.

When he was young, a highly accomplished sage "passed by" the Jiang clan and took him as his disciple.

That master was none other than Duobao Daoren, the senior disciple of the Jie Sect.

After Lieshan became a disciple of Daoist Duobao, his martial arts skills improved rapidly. Duobao guided Lieshan in his cultivation and answered his questions.

The Lieshan clan possessed extraordinary talent, and within a few years, they had already entered the realm of immortals. A few years later, they had reached the level of Golden Immortals.

However, Lieshan was not keen on fighting. What he preferred to do was to go into the mountains and forests alone, sit by the stream, watch the flowers bloom and wither, watch the plants flourish and decay, and watch the fruits turn from green to ripe.

He often wondered why food was always scarce for the human race. Hunting depended on the weather, and gathering depended on the location. In years of famine, the tribe would starve. Was there no way for the human race to control their own food supply?

This question, like a seed, was planted in his heart, waiting for an opportunity to sprout.

As the human race developed and the number of warriors increased, the food problem became increasingly prominent.

As the population grew, the need for food naturally increased. Although hunting became more efficient, the prey was limited. As the surrounding wild animals were gradually hunted to extinction, the tribe had to migrate to more distant places in search of new hunting grounds.

The same applies to gathering. Wild fruits, roots, and vegetables are limited in quantity and highly seasonal, making it impossible to meet the ever-increasing demand.

Friction between tribes over prey, water, and territory is becoming increasingly frequent. Although the human emperor Fuxi mediates, it only addresses the symptoms, not the root cause. If this continues, great chaos will inevitably ensue within the human race.

Fuxi also realized the seriousness of the problem. He summoned the leaders of various tribes to discuss countermeasures.

"Hunting and gathering are no longer enough to feed all of humanity." Fuxi stood on the high platform, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, his voice low and solemn, "We must find new sources of food."

The leaders looked at each other, but none of them could come up with a feasible solution.

Hunting is a skill passed down through generations, and gathering is their instinct. Besides these, what other ways are there to obtain food?

Fuxi knew that this matter could not be rushed. He could only tell the tribes to go back and find their own solutions, and to report back if they made any discoveries.

When the news reached the Jiang clan, Lieshan heard it and kept it in mind.

He recalled what he often saw in the mountains and forests: birds pecking at fruit, seeds scattered with their droppings, and new plants growing the following year. He thought of the seeds sown in spring, which would yield even more seeds in autumn.

A bold idea sprouted in his mind—

If only humans could grow their own food, how wonderful that would be?

Lieshan told his master, Daoist Duobao, about this idea.

Upon hearing this, Daoist Duobao was taken aback at first, then a glint of light flashed in his eyes.

Daoist Duobao said slowly, "If you can accomplish this, you will be a great hero of the human race, and your merit will be no less than that of the human emperor Fuxi."

Lieshan's heart skipped a beat: "Master, is this really feasible?"

Daoist Duobao pondered for a moment and said, "Whether it is feasible or not is not up to me, but up to you. If you truly want to do it, I will lend you a hand."

Lieshan was overjoyed and immediately knelt down to pay his respects, saying, "Thank you, Master!"

From that day on, Lieshan began his journey of exploration.

He traveled throughout the mountains and fields along the banks of the Jiang River, observing the growth patterns of every plant. He brought different seeds back to the tribe and tried planting them on the land around the tribe, observing which ones would survive and which ones would bear fruit.

The first year, it failed.

Drought, pests, weeds—a host of problems arose, and most of the sown seeds failed to survive. Even the few that did survive produced small, astringent fruits that were difficult to swallow.

Lieshan was not discouraged. He learned from his experience and tried again the following year.

He learned to water the land, to pull weeds, and to scare away birds and animals. He tried sowing seeds in different seasons and using different methods to care for the plants.

The following year, there was some harvest.

Although the yield was low and the fruit wasn't particularly delicious, it at least proved that planting this crop was a viable option.

Lieshan recorded these experiences in preparation for sharing them with other members of the tribe.