Chapter Seventy: The Ink Serpent
Is this what magical power feels like?
So different from the sensation of inner energy.
As he felt a cool, crystalline force within his sea of consciousness, Qi Xiu was moved. Magical power did not feel as tangible as inner energy. It was ethereal and transparent—shaped but without substance. Yet it carried a hidden potency, capable of stirring the changes and rules of this world.
He tried to direct the magical power in his mind, his lips moving as he recited a brief incantation. This was one of the core spells recorded in the Azure Pool Shadow Scale Scripture—the most important one.
Black Flood Dragon!
The incantation was spoken, obscure syllables tumbling from Qi Xiu’s mouth. Guided by the incantation, the magical power in his sea of consciousness transformed into a delicate mist that flowed into his body, coalescing into mysterious ancient symbols that summoned a supernatural resonance.
A flickering shadow began to emerge from the void.
Everything proceeded as the scripture described—until suddenly, the Purple Pole Dao Seed in Qi Xiu’s dantian shuddered. As if sensing an alien energy trespassing upon its territory, the majestic, fierce inner energy of the Purple Pole erupted violently, crashing forth like a ravenous tiger and obliterating all the magical power entering his body.
“Pfft…”
The collision of the two forces triggered a backlash. Qi Xiu spat a mouthful of blood, spraying it over two meters.
Rebellious child!
His eyes trembled and his brows furrowed. He hadn’t expected his first attempt at spellcasting to be cut short by the very Purple Pole True Art he had painstakingly cultivated.
Drawing two Medicine Talismans to soothe his internal injuries, Qi Xiu gritted his teeth, circulating the Purple Pole True Art. He gathered the raging inner energy—still rampaging through his body, searching for traces of magical power—and pulled it back into the Dao Seed.
Wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, Qi Xiu gazed at the crimson splatter and murmured to himself:
“So this is the true difficulty of cultivating both martial and magical arts?”
Inner energy and magical power.
Like fire and water.
Both residing within the same vessel, inherently incompatible—mutually opposed.
Each force sought to dominate, to shatter and annihilate the other, determined to claim the body as its own. Yet in the end, it was the cultivator who suffered for it.
But what Qi Xiu did not realize was that the intense backlash he endured was not merely the result of inner energy and magical power clashing. It was because his method of dual cultivation was fundamentally different from the norm.
Typically, true dual cultivators train both inner energy and magical power in tandem, carefully controlling their quantities to maintain a relative balance and prevent one from overwhelming and destroying the other.
Qi Xiu, however, had already refined his inner energy to perfection, forming a Dao Seed—while his magical power had only just begun.
The complete imbalance between the two forces resulted in inner energy utterly crushing magical power, causing the backlash.
This highlighted the shortcomings of Qi Xiu’s solitary path. Without guidance from a mentor or elders, he was liable not only to take wrong turns, but to walk straight into dead ends.
Fortunately, his foundation in the True Art was exceptionally deep, and the Purple Pole True Art possessed extraordinary healing properties. This backlash was far from crippling. Had it been anyone else, such an incident could have ruined them.
Feeling his injuries gradually healing under the combined effect of Medicine Talismans and the Purple Pole True Art, Qi Xiu was undeterred. He attempted to summon a trace of magical power once more.
This time, as soon as magical power entered his body, the Purple Pole inner energy responded, restless and ready to pounce.
Hey now, you’re mine to command—how dare you try to seize control!
Seeing the inner energy surge towards the magical power, Qi Xiu immediately activated his True Art, forcibly suppressing the inner energy, trying to push it back into the Dao Seed.
The effort was immense. Restraining the instincts of his inner energy sent his aura into chaos, waves of energy rippling outward and tossing everything nearby into the air.
His own forehead bulged with veins, his face flushed deep red.
It took a full quarter of an hour to subdue the restless inner energy and return it to the Dao Seed.
Thankfully, the Purple Pole True Art was a creation of his own, refined from the synthesis of several martial arts—a technique entirely devised by him. This gave him exceptional control. Combined with the innate advantage of the original Dao Seed, he succeeded in forcing the inner energy back.
Had it been any other martial art, the instinctive agitation of inner energy would have been uncontrollable—the more suppressed, the more volatile.
He hadn’t expected, upon reaching the realm of true intent, that his own inner energy would force him into such an embarrassing predicament. Qi Xiu smiled wryly.
Seizing the moment while the inner energy was confined within the Dao Seed, he swiftly summoned magical power, recited the incantation, and cast the spell.
He chanted the spell while continuing to suppress the restive inner energy.
Qi Xiu’s brows were tightly knitted, sweat dripping in large beads down his cheeks, soaking the floor beneath his feet.
As more and more symbols formed by magical power coalesced within him, the supernatural aura grew increasingly dense.
Pop—
A sound like something breaking through the surface of water.
A flash of azure light flickered deep within Qi Xiu’s eyes—his heart leaping with joy.
He had succeeded!
He raised his right arm. From within his wide sleeve, a slender figure emerged—a cold aura, black scales and long horns, crimson eyes brimming with icy intent, jaws opening to reveal sharp, white teeth.
Black Flood Dragon!
The core spell of the Azure Pool Shadow Scale Scripture.
By condensing magical power, one nurtures a Black Flood Dragon.
This dragon devours miasma and gloom from the world, strengthening and consolidating magical power.
The spell’s utility was limitless. By allowing the Black Flood Dragon to absorb spiritual energy, all filth and evil were digested by the dragon, leaving only purified magical power for oneself.
In this way, one avoided the physical mutations and grotesque transformations common in other magical practices.
Compared to the likes of Wu Changqing, who raise spirit insects within their own bodies, turning themselves into neither human nor ghost—a living insect hive—the difference was like night and day.
“Truly, this scripture is worthy of being ranked alongside the True Art. Its quality is extraordinary.”
Playing with the Black Flood Dragon, no thicker than a chopstick and coiled around his wrist, Qi Xiu felt his spirits lift.
Compared to other practitioners, his starting point was already far above most.
Others who cultivate the Azure Pool Shadow Scale Scripture must follow strict routines—tattooing spell patterns, soaking in cold springs, gradually accumulating magical power bit by bit.
Such magical power, affected by daily moods, thoughts, and energy, is impure and inconsistent.
But Qi Xiu was different.
His magical power was entirely conjured by supernatural creation—pure, uniform, and flawless.
Thus, he could so easily condense a Black Flood Dragon.
Ordinary practitioners, even upon their first attempt, could never create a Black Flood Dragon. Most would only produce inferior black snakes or loaches; crafting a mid-tier black python would already be considered fortunate.
Only through long, arduous cultivation could one eventually refine a Black Flood Dragon.
They could never match Qi Xiu, whose Black Flood Dragon was formed from the outset—a high starting point, a solid foundation.
After admiring the Black Flood Dragon for a moment, Qi Xiu’s expression suddenly changed.
He hurriedly withdrew the dragon into his sea of consciousness.
The instant the Black Flood Dragon returned to his sea of consciousness, the Purple Pole inner energy, unable to be restrained any longer, erupted from the Dao Seed, like a tiger descending the mountain, roaring and rampaging throughout Qi Xiu’s body—searching for any trace of magical power.
But with prior experience, Qi Xiu had already retrieved all magical power into his sea of consciousness.
Inner energy remained dominant within the body, unable to enter the sea of consciousness.
After circulating through his body for several cycles, it reluctantly returned to the Dao Seed, dissatisfied but conceding.
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