Living In Another World With A Farm Chapter 8548 8548: Hearing the Dao.1

Cheng Wanchun remained stationary within the cavern, meticulously refining the dense killing intent harbored within his artifact. Having achieved a state of resonance with the weapon, he possessed the unique ability to perceive its subtle transformations. He observed that as the killing intent integrated into the object, and his own Dharma power flowed through it, the internal architecture seemed to evolve. Distinct energy conduits emerged, weaving together every array inscribed within the artifact.

These vibrant strands of energy, Cheng Wanchun realized, had likely existed within the artifact for quite some time. His previously limited cultivation level had simply rendered him blind to their presence. However, after three months of dedicated practice in the cave, he had reached the Dharma-refinement realm, granting him the clarity to finally witness these hidden pathways.

The manifest energy lines granted him a newfound fluidity in manipulating both the Dharama artifact and the power contained within it. He sensed that with a concerted push, he could even alter the structural form of the weapon—an intuitive realization that flourished within his mind without the need for external instruction.

Eventually, Cheng Wanchun exhaled, concluding his session. He strictly adhered to the schedule set by Zhao Hai, dedicating eight hours to refining hostile intent and another block of eight hours to tempering the weapon itself. The remainder of his time was spent resting or strengthening his Dharma power. Beyond that, he had to master the intricate mechanics of his ruler. His schedule was relentless.

The cavern was expansive enough to house over a dozen inhabitants without causing congestion. Life within was monotonous, dictated primarily by endless cultivation; however, the group often gathered to converse. From time to time, Zhu Yong would bring spirit wine and food, fostering an atmosphere of camaraderie among them.

Upon finishing his routine, Cheng Wanchun checked on his companions, who had also completed their work. The group convened quickly. As the eldest and most potent among them, Cheng Wanchun had seen his cultivation accelerate significantly. Three months prior, he stood at the fifth level of the transcendence realm; remarkably, he had since soared past the art essence realm, reaching the fifth level of the art refinement realm. Such velocity in progress was truly staggering.

Cheng Wanchun remained unsure of the cause behind this rapid advancement. Perhaps the alignment between his own nature, the artifact’s essence, and his cultivation technique was perfect. Regardless, his progress felt like a rocket, a rapid ascent that even stirred a sense of trepidation in him.

Because of his superior strength, the others had dubbed him Eldest Senior Brother. Cheng Wanchun surveyed the group with a smile, saying, "Excellent. You have all made commendable progress. Remain disciplined in your training. We enjoy such favorable conditions thanks to Master; it would be a failure on our part if we did not achieve something significant before ending our seclusion."

The others nodded solemnly, though one voiced a nagging concern: "Eldest Senior Brother, do you know when we might finally display the banner of the Blood Slaughter Sect? Operating under the guise of the Ghostwind Bandits while suppressing our true identity feels incredibly stifling." The rest voiced their agreement. Despite being recent recruits, they were direct disciples of Master Zhao Hai, the Grandmaster of the Blood Slaughter Sect. Their standing was secure, and they expected high-ranking future roles. The anonymity grated on them.

They understood that the sect had been forced to hide following the destruction of their organization years ago, even hiding their identity from others. They knew the sect was careful, but being denied the pride of their own name left them feeling deeply wounded.

Cheng Wanchun’s expression darkened as he retorted, "Cease such talk. Master governs our trajectory with his own plans." The subordinate pulled back, chastened. Cheng Wanchun softened his tone but remained firm: "Do not let this growth inflate your ego. While we have improved, we are mere specks compared to the Island Lord-level experts. Even those thousands of powerful individuals—some leagues beyond an Island Lord—were ultimately erased by the powers of the higher realm. Master is formidable, and our sect has grown strong, but remember our true adversary: the Almighty above. If we provoke such a being by revealing our name too early, we are but lambs for the slaughter."

Silence fell over the group. Cheng Wanchun finished, "We act as Master's direct disciples. We endure to share his burden. In time, the Blood Slaughter Sect will rise in glory, and those who have slighted us will face their reckoning."

A voice boomed from the entrance: "Well said. Be patient. The Blood Slaughter Sect will surely reclaim its place in the blood sea realm, and those who oppose us will meet a bitter end."

Turning, the group saw Zhu Yong and immediately stood to bow. Zhu Yong, despite his youthful appearance, was Zhao Hai’s most trusted shadow, a position of unparalleled status.

Zhu Yong waved a hand, smiling: "Enough of the formalities. I have brought wine and food for you all. Rest well. Tomorrow, the Young Master will commence a lecture. You must attend, especially you, Wan Chun; your potential to become an Island Lord is nearer than you think."

Cheng Wanchun and the others beamed. They had missed their master dearly and were eager for his guidance.

By the following day, Zhu Yong guided the group to the lecture hall. Zhao Hai kept his sessions intimate, limiting attendance to a thousand disciples at a time to ensure the information could be properly digested. Six months usually passed between these sessions, ensuring the disciples had ample time to integrate his teachings.

As everyone settled, Zhu Yong also found a seat, hoping for a breakthrough of his own. Zhao Hai entered, silent and imposing, and began to discourse on the nature of the great Dao. His insights were profound, and many had reached breakthroughs simply by listening.

For Cheng Wanchun, the lecture was transformative. He lost all sense of his previous excitement, becoming entirely absorbed in Zhao Hai’s words. He could feel his own Dharma power stirring autonomously within his Meridians. Simultaneously, his ruler began to refine the lingering killing intent within its depths, undergoing a silent, tectonic shift in power.