Warhammer Cultivation: Cultivating the Tao Te Ching in the 40K Universe

“…Then,” he asked with difficulty, recovering from the immense shock, in a hoarse voice filled with a last glimmer of hope, “what about the third ingredient?”

Hector's face revealed a smile full of powerful confidence and composure.

"The third ingredient, my original body."

His voice became extremely solemn.

“It is named… ‘Hope’.”

Having said that, he slowly extended his right hand.

He didn't take out any more items. He simply unfolded his hand, which was as white as jade and flawless after being reshaped by the Golden Core True Essence, before everyone.

A sound unlike any otherworldly sound, but more like the purest and most harmonious whisper of the first star being lit at the dawn of the universe, erupted from his palm!

A ball of light, about the size of a fist, warm and moon-white in color, with Tai Chi symbols slowly flowing on its surface and full of the Daoist principles of "harmony" and "balance," floated quietly in his palm as if created out of thin air!

That was neither psionic energy nor matter.

That was a crystal formed by Hector from the vast ocean of true essence within his dantian, from his golden core Dao heart, which had long been perfected by fusing the wills of the four Primitive Bodies, and from his complete understanding of the most fundamental law of "life" in this universe...

The most fundamental, full of "order" and "vitality"...

"—The Seed of the Dao!"

The moment that seed appeared, the entire "Wenxinzhai," that already vibrant sky garden, seemed to be infused with the life essence of the gods! All the exotic flowers and plants that had drooped their buds due to Saint Gilles's tragic aura, at that instant, as if they had heard the command of creation, stretched out and bloomed wildly at a speed visible to the naked eye!

An indescribable fragrance, full of "hope" and "new life," instantly filled the entire garden!

"This...this is..."

Marcus Aurelius could clearly feel that his genetically modified body, which had long since reached the limits of the human body, was uncontrollably generating a trace of...desire in the face of this Daoist aura full of "vitality"!

"This is the seed of my 'Tao,' a summary of the initial 'laws' that my Golden Elixir nurtured—you can understand the Golden Elixir as a spiritual energy structure within the Taoist academy system."

"I will plant this seed of 'hope' within you." Hector's voice carried a powerful force. "It cannot eradicate the 'thorn of law' that is already bound to your soul. But it can act like the most loyal gardener, guarding your heart day and night. It will temporarily suppress the activity of that 'thorn of law'; it will reclaim a pure land for you on the ruins of your heart that have long been scorched by the 'fire of the heart', allowing the flower of 'goodness' to bloom anew..."

"It's a temporary fix. It buys you time for the first two 'heart medicines' to truly take root and sprout."

After saying that, he slowly pressed the seed of "hope" against Saint Gilles's rock-solid chest.

However, just as that Dao Seed, brimming with "life force," was about to touch Saint Gilles's golden, work-of-art-like power armor—

“Buzz——!!!”

An indescribable, far greater and more terrifying "malice" erupted from Saint Gilles' body without warning!

On his chest, the area covered by the golden holy grail and blood droplet runes, uncontrollably began to show cracks of law that writhed like living things, were as black as ink, and were filled with "anger" and "hatred"!

The "thorn of law" that dwells deep within his soul and feeds on "love" seems to sense the arrival of its natural enemy. It awakens from its slumber and lets out a silent roar filled with destructive desire!

It is trying to completely tear apart and devour this "foreign object" full of "order" and "vitality"!

Hector felt a cold torrent of laws, filled with the meaning of "annihilation" and "end," rushing back into his body along the Seed of "hope"!

His newly formed Golden Core Dao Seed, under the impact of this "evil" originating from the deepest and most fundamental part of a Primal Soul, actually let out a mournful cry of unbearable burden!

His handsome face instantly lost all color, turning deathly pale!

Chapter 167 The Lion King's Question

A sharp glint, unlike anything seen before, flashed in Hector's eyes, filled with an unprecedented sense of determination and despair!

He knew this was the most dangerous moment, but also... the best opportunity!

His vast divine consciousness, which had been gathering power for a long time and belonged to the Golden Core Realm, transformed into an invisible, sharpest "surgical knife" at this moment!

He did not try to withstand the backlash from the torrent of laws.

He deliberately sent his Dao heart, which was about to be torn apart, upstream against the torrent!

His goal was not the indestructible "thorn of law" itself!

His target was the area surrounding that "thorn," a tangled mess, like countless knotted balls of yarn, already chaotic from Saint Gilles' centuries of pain and struggle...

"—The thread of cause and effect!"

"cut!!!"

A furious roar, originating from the deepest part of his soul, devoid of any emotion, and like a divine judgment, exploded in his already boiling sea of ​​consciousness!

Within his dantian, his own natal magic weapon—the "Invisible Needle"—seemed to sense its master's call and instantly awoke from its chaotic, nurturing state!

It emitted a sound powerful enough to silence the very laws of this universe...

An invisible and intangible "principle," devoid of light and darkness, instantly crossed the boundary between Hector's physical body and Saint Gilles' soul, precisely striking the already chaotic threads of cause and effect that tightly bound the "thorn of law" to Saint Gilles' "protective love"...

There was no earth-shattering explosion, only a soft sound like ice melting.

Saint Gilles' massive, radiant body shuddered violently! His deep blue eyes, which had been tightly closed in pain, snapped open!

He felt as if his heart, which had been tormented by the paradox of "love" and "hate" for centuries and was already overburdened, was being gently lifted by a pair of the gentlest yet most powerful hands.

The "thorn of law," which clung to him like a malignant tumor, causing him endless pain with every heartbeat, still existed. However, the deadly, poisonous link between it and his "protective" will was temporarily... "separated" by an invisible force!

While he was conscious, he sensed...

An absolute peace that he had long forgotten, and had never even experienced, untainted by any pain or anger!

He looked at the mortal before him, whose face was ashen and whose body swayed precariously due to exhaustion, yet who still smiled at him with eyes full of compassion and peace.

He knew that from this moment on, he, Saint Gilles, the Primarch of the Ninth Legion, the great angel, owed this mortal a debt…

An immense favor.

......

The tranquility of Wenxinzhai is a "living" tranquility.

It does not originate from a lifeless isolation, but is built on a dynamic balance of harmonious coexistence of all things.

Here, you can hear the dewdrops, created by Chief Student Karen using the "Mystic Ice Technique," gently sliding off the leaves of exotic flowers and plants and dripping into the shallow pool below paved with white jade, producing a clear and melodious sound like the gentle plucking of an ancient zither.

You can also sense that when another chief student, Grol, is practicing the "Rock Solid Mind Technique," his steady and deep breathing resonates subtly with the pulse of the entire Sky Garden and even the ancient core of Terra beneath his feet.

Everything here is "breathing".

However, on the morning of the third Terra Day after Saint Gilles left the Mindful Abode with hope and peace of rebirth, this "breath" was forcibly cut off by an external, cold will full of absolute "law" and "order".

A militarized declaration built of steel and silence, brooking no argument.

The eternal blue sky light simulated by ancient technology in Wenxinzhai now seems to be covered by an invisible gray filter made of countless sharp pen lines.

The light was no longer soft, but became as cold and sharp as the operating room lamp, illuminating the veins of every leaf and the trajectory of every speck of dust in the garden, leaving no room for "blur" or "harmony".

Those blooming, psionic flowers and plants, before this judgmental will, did not droop their buds as they would in the face of the sorrow of Saint Gillespie; they withered. Their vibrant life force was forcibly deconstructed from its most basic level by a higher force field filled with logic and rules, reduced to the most primitive and meaningless energy and information.

The air was almost still.

An absolute stillness, as if frozen at absolute zero, where all molecular motion is halted, a suffocating stillness.

Hector Kane raised his head, his strange eyes, one like eternal night and the other like a star, piercing through layers of alloy walls and energy fields, looking at the "simple" gate of the Wenxinzhai, constructed of moon-white jade, symbolizing "the way of nature".

Then, he saw it.

He saw a small squad, with an unstoppable air of "breaking down the door," reminiscent of the ritualistic initiation in classic chivalric novels, pass through the door that should have been closed to all unauthorized individuals.

They were not imperial guards.

The Imperial Guard's majesty stems from their absolute loyalty and honor as the Emperor's protectors. Their "qi" is pure gold and warm, representing the ultimate "yang" that is as unquestionable as the sun.

The people in front of me, however, had an aura that was steel gray.

It was a color colder than the abyss and purer than a vacuum.

There was no trace of emotion belonging to a living being. There was no anger, no joy, no sorrow... only absolute "discipline" operating like the most precise logic engine, and a kind of "vigilance" that stemmed from years of walking in the dark forest, harboring the deepest suspicion of everything around them, a vigilance that penetrated to the bone.

There were thirteen of them in total.

Leading the group was a figure even taller and more imposing than Marcus Aurelius, the instructor of the Imperial Guard.

He wore an ancient, gothic-style Terminator power armor, ornately decorated with gold and obsidian at the key joints. The armor's color was not the paint scheme of any known Imperial legion, but a deep, dark green, like the eternal forest of Caliban.

The armor's surface was meticulously polished, smooth as a mirror, yet it exuded a chilling aura that seemed to devour all light.

He carried no ordinary weapons. He simply rested a massive power sword on his shoulder, its hilt carved with a ferocious winged lion relief and shimmering with a faint aura of energy.

He wasn't wearing a helmet, revealing a face that looked as if sculpted from a glacier, exuding absolute authority and cold rationality.

His golden hair, like a lion's mane, was wild and unrestrained, yet carried an undeniable kingly aura. His eyes, like two frozen green stars, did not glance at the exotic flowers and rare herbs in the Inquiry Hall, nor did they pay attention to the young cultivators who were gripped by great panic at his arrival.

His gaze, from beginning to end, was like two sharpest "swords of judgment" forged by the laws themselves, transcending physical distance and locked onto the insignificant mortal figure standing on the "God's Platform," the only one who dared to meet his gaze.

The genetic prototype of the First Legion, the "Dark Angels".

The Lion of Caliban.

The emperor's "first son".

Ryan Aljonsen.

Chapter 168 Unknown Crimes

Behind the Lion King, twelve Deathwing Knights, clad in Terminator power armor and wielding power gauntlets and storm bomb guns, silently followed their king in a perfect fan-shaped defensive formation.

Their movements were synchronized, precise, and silent, as if controlled by a single core of logic. They were not like independent living beings, but rather like an impregnable war fortress built of steel laws, moving and unbreakable.

Hector stood quietly, letting the immense will, powerful enough to make asteroids tremble and filled with the meaning of absolute law and judgment, wash over his seemingly fragile dojo like an invisible tide.

His "Golden Core Without Leaks" characteristic displayed its most perfect defensive posture in the face of this inquisitive will. His "qi" did not form a shield to withstand the attack, but instead transformed into an absolutely smooth mirror surface without any gaps.

When the lion's scrutinizing gaze shone on the mirror, it not only failed to see through anything, but was instead reflected back exactly as it had been.

This caused a flicker of surprise and displeasure to cross the suspicious Primarch's green, star-like eyes.

"You're Hector Kane?"

The lion opened its mouth, its voice unlike the gentleness of Horus, the compassion of Saint Gilles, or the piety of Loka; rather, it possessed an ancient majesty. The voice was devoid of emotion, not a question, but a confirmation of a long-established fact.

"Homage to you, great lion, Primarch of the First Legion."

Hector bowed slightly to the demigod who had descended like a god, performing a standard imperial court etiquette with neither arrogance nor servility.

"That is me. I wonder what brings Lord Primarch to my humble Wenxinzhai today?"

"Instructions?" Ryan El-Jonson's lips curled into a cold smile. "It's an investigation."

When the two cold, judgmental syllables of "examination" were uttered by Ryan Aljonsen without any emotion, the atmosphere of the entire Wenxinzhai seemed to be completely suppressed by an invisible, heavy force.

A power of "law and reason" originating from the First Legion, passed down for centuries and imbued with chivalrous honor and iron discipline.

Behind Hector, the 117 newly recruited Qi cultivators whose Dao hearts were still unstable turned pale instantly under the crushing force of this absolute order. They felt that their fragile true essence, which they had just learned to flow, would be frozen again by the cold will.

Even Karen and Groer, the chief students who had already grasped the direction of their respective "paths," couldn't help but feel immense pressure.

Karen's aura, as pure as snow in early spring, seemed so fragile in the face of this iron will; and Grol's rock-solid foundation groaned under the weight of this even greater, mountain-like force.

Only Hector Kane remained standing still.

His simple grey monk's robes remained unwrinkled by the invisible storm of will. His calm, abyss-like eyes gazed at the Primarch before him, a being brimming with absolute dominance, his gaze devoid of fear, only filled with equal, thoughtful inquiry.

“Scrutiny?” He repeated the word calmly. “May I ask, Primarch, since its inception, my humble Wenxinzhai has always adhered to the Imperial Law and followed the Regent’s guidance, and has never overstepped any bounds. I wonder what this ‘scrutiny’ is all about?”

“Where shall we begin?” Ryan El-Jonson’s eyes flashed with a cold mockery, as if he were looking at a prisoner trying to deny or cover up his crimes. “Let’s begin with my brother, Saint Gilles.”

His voice was like that of the most severe judge proclaiming irrefutable evidence: "Just a few days ago, my brother, the Ninth Legion Primarch, entered your so-called dojo alone without any official notification. And when he left, it is said that his genetic ailment, which had plagued the entire Legion for centuries, was miraculously alleviated."

His gaze, like two of the sharpest swords of judgment, was fixed on Hector: "A mortal, using a philosophy unheard of and incomprehensible, healed a Primarch who even the Emperor's will could not completely appease in just a few hours. Don't you think that in itself is something most worthy of scrutiny, Dean Kane?"

These words were like a net woven from logic and doubt, instantly sealing off all of Hector's escape routes.

He didn't accuse Hector of being a heretic because evidence was needed. He simply pointed out the incalculable risks posed by Hector and his mystical "way" from the undeniable supreme perspective of national security. It was a calculated move, devoid of any emotion, characteristic of the First Legion.

Hector paused for a moment, then slowly descended the steps of the "Altar of God".

"Primarch, your order is built upon the law. It is like the jade floor beneath your feet, perfectly pieced together from countless meticulously calculated blocks, solid, reliable, and without any flaws."

“And my order,” he slowly raised his head, gazing at the lion with eyes as calm as the abyss, “is built upon harmony.”

He pointed to the exotic flowers and plants in Wenxinzhai that were slowly unfurling their branches and leaves, full of vitality.

"It is like this garden, seemingly full of disordered and chaotic growth, but it follows the deeper law of 'Tao follows nature'. The veins of every leaf and the trajectory of every flower are full of vitality and infinite possibilities."

“Your laws are a perfect, impregnable fortress,” Hector’s voice became deep and resonant. “They keep all chaos and danger out of the walls, but at the same time, they utterly extinguish all life.”