Martial Immortality: Starting with the Spirit Beast Scroll

’Gather Wind Attribute Spiritual Power at the Taiyang and Shaoshang acupoints, form the Fifth-Grade Lotus Lin mudra...’

Zhao Lin paced back and forth in his small courtyard.

He held a copy of A Primer on Tier One Magic of the Chenghua Sect, muttering to himself as he contemplated the incantations within.

His free hand was not idle, either; it was constantly forming a variety of magical hand seals.

After opening their meridians, the disciples gained their first bit of Mana, and so the Spirit Dao Institute began teaching them Magic.

Magic had many wondrous aspects, and the disciples, brimming with enthusiasm, practiced tirelessly.

Zhao Lin was naturally no exception, but unlike the others, he had also figured out the fundamental principles and underlying logic of Magic.

Magic wasn’t created from nothing, nor was it some gift from the gods. It was the Power of Laws, generated when a cultivator used their own Spiritual Power to invoke the Laws of Heaven and Earth.

One could understand it like this: Heaven and Earth divided into Yin and Yang, Yin and Yang transformed into the Five Elements, and the air became filled with vast quantities of Five Element "particles."

When a cultivator cast Magic, they integrated these Five Element "particles," guiding and releasing them according to their inherent patterns.

It was like using a fuse to ignite dynamite.

As for the variant attributes like wind, ice, and lightning, they were actually derived from the Five Elements and didn’t need to be considered separately.

In this world of magical arts, the Laws of Heaven and Earth existed as objectively as the laws of physics from his past life. The only difference was that in this world, both were real.

"Wind Blade Skill!"

With a low shout, Zhao Lin hooked his right thumb around his pinky, twisted his hand inward and down, and with a wave, sent out a streak of cyan energy.

The cyan energy coalesced in the air, forming a tiny, three-inch-long throwing knife that wobbled toward a corner of the courtyard.

Zhao Lin’s eyebrows shot up, his eyes filled with delight, only to see the wind blade travel little more than twenty feet before its color instantly faded and it vanished completely.

’Looks like even the most basic Magic isn’t that easy to practice. My skill is still a far cry from even the initiation level.’

Zhao Lin shook his head slightly.

Proficiency in Magic was divided into six levels: Initiation, Adept, Minor Achievement, Mastery, Grand Achievement, and Perfection.

These levels represented a cultivator’s understanding of the Laws and their ability to apply Magic.

It was unrelated to Mana.

If a Foundation Establishment cultivator and a Qi Refining Cultivator were both at the Initiation level for the same spell, the former would undoubtedly have the upper hand, as their Mana is far more powerful.

However, if the Qi Refining Cultivator trained the spell to Minor Achievement, or even Mastery, they could utilize the Laws of Heaven and Earth more efficiently and rationally, allowing them to overcome the Foundation Establishment cultivator.

It was the equivalent of borrowing an external force.

Even the most Low Tier Magic could become incredibly powerful if cultivated to Grand Achievement or even Perfection; it was just that few were willing to invest that much effort.

With each increase in proficiency level, the amount of effort required multiplied several times over.

Practicing Magic relied on two things: talent and hard work.

Zhao Lin’s talent wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t top-tier, either, which meant he had no choice but to work harder.

GROWL...

His stomach rumbled.

Zhao Lin frowned. He had wanted to continue practicing Magic, but he realized the Spiritual Power in his body was all but depleted.

With a soft sigh, he walked into the main room, retrieved a storage pouch from a cabinet, and took out a handful of shimmering, translucent "Spirit Rice" that was coated in a layer of golden oil.

A rich, fragrant aroma instantly filled the room.

Mortal food contained impurities, so once a person became a cultivator, they could no longer consume it. To do so would require expending energy to purify it, which was detrimental to their practice.

Spirit Rice not only lacked these impurities but could also replenish one’s Spiritual Power, making it the staple "ration" for cultivators.

When one consumed Spirit Rice, the body could completely refine and absorb it, producing no waste. Even the need to relieve oneself was eliminated.

The small cauldron was for cooking this rice, not for alchemy as Zhao Lin had first assumed.

He placed the Spirit Rice in the small cauldron, hesitated, then added a few dozen more grains.

The Spirit Dao Institute distributed ten jin of Spirit Rice to each disciple every month. While it provided sustenance, it did little to satisfy their cravings.

The disciples, accustomed to the hearty fish and meat dishes of the mortal world, found this hard to swallow. It was like living on a glucose drip; you could survive, but no one would call it living.

Of course, there was a way for cultivators to enjoy gourmet food: Spiritual Cuisine.

Spiritual Cuisine involved preparing Demon Beasts and Spirit Beasts with unique methods that removed their impurities while preserving their Spiritual Qi, resulting in delicious, mouth-watering meals.

Not only did it replenish Spiritual Power, but it also satisfied a cultivator’s palate, making it a true delicacy for both cultivation and taste.

Unfortunately, Spiritual Cuisine was expensive, a true luxury. The disciples had just joined the sect and were penniless—how could they possibly afford it?

Some disciples even took to loitering near the mortal dining halls, not to eat, but simply to catch a whiff of the food’s aroma.

For Zhao Lin, the desire for tasty food was a secondary concern; the real problem was that he couldn’t get enough to eat.

He was tall and robust, with a much larger appetite than the other boys. A mere three liang of Spirit Rice per day was simply not enough.

He figured that when the Spirit Dao Institute set the rules for rations, they hadn’t considered the minority group of Martial Cultivators at all.

Some disciples with a fondness for food had tried to ask the Institute for more Spirit Rice but were heartlessly refused by the Daoist Elder.

The reason given was that three liang of Spirit Rice was sufficient for their daily needs. Eating any more was wasteful, and if they just held out for a while longer, their bodies would naturally adapt.

Seeing this, Zhao Lin gave up on the idea. Instead, he started adding more water when he cooked his rice, turning it into a thin porridge to trick his stomach into feeling full.

When Li Sancai came over to ask for clarification on a few phrases, he noticed that Zhao Lin didn’t have enough Spirit Rice and offered to give him some of his own.

"Senior Brother Zhao, I was never able to eat my fill when I was a kid. I can’t finish all this Spirit Rice..."

Zhao Lin immediately cut him off. "You’ve never had a full stomach, and now you finally have the chance. Don’t go back to starving yourself. I’ll be fine."

As the Spirit Rice cooked, a BUBBLE... BUBBLE... sound came from within the cauldron.

Through the rising steam, a hint of worry could be seen on Zhao Lin’s face.

The food situation was a minor issue, something he could overcome. His real worry was his cultivation.

After nearly two months in the sect, the gap in talent between the disciples had become starkly clear.

Lin Chaoran was in a league of his own, having already opened nineteen Spiritual Acupoints. He was expected to reach the Qi Refining Third Layer by next month—a terrifying pace.

Several disciples with high-grade Spiritual Roots had also opened more than ten Spiritual Acupoints and were on the verge of breaking through to the Qi Refining Second Layer.

Zhao Lin wasn’t jealous. Cultivation was a personal journey. No matter how fast others progressed, it was no skin off his back.

But if he continued at this pace, his hopes of one day reaching Foundation Establishment were slim.

The one-in-a-hundred chance of reaching Foundation Establishment applied to all cultivators on the Xuanyuan Continent.

In a major sect like the Chenghua Sect, one could use pills and advanced Cultivation Techniques to slightly increase the odds, but that would only add another one or two successful candidates to the count.

’There are forty-five disciples in our batch. How many will reach Foundation Establishment? And how many, the Purple Mansion?’

The outlook was bleak.

Zhao Lin had heard stories about Lu Yuanxiu, a senior from the Xingyun Sect. The man had reached the Purple Mansion Realm partly due to great fortune, and partly because he had survived several near-death battles and made immense contributions to his sect, thereby earning abundant resources.

’I can’t necessarily walk that same path.’

Naturally, his thoughts turned to the Spirit Beast Scroll.

There was an empty slot in the Spirit Beast Scroll, originally reserved for an immortal Essence Soul. It seemed now that no such creature existed.

’If I want to achieve immortality, the best way is to cultivate to a higher realm.’

’What kind of Demon Beast’s Essence Soul could speed up my cultivation?’

Lately, Zhao Lin had been spending a lot of time in the Library Pavilion, poring over relevant materials.

The Library Pavilion contained numerous records, including specialized bestiaries that detailed the continent’s various Demon Beasts and strange insects.

And a few of them had indeed caught his interest.

For instance, the incredibly strong Mountain Shifting Beast; the Electric Light Flood Dragon, which could spit lightning; the fiercely venomous and elusive Illusion Face Spider; and the Purple-striped Scorpion, which devoured metal and feared no magical treasure...

But as tempting as they were, these Demon Beasts were far too powerful—desirable, yet completely out of reach.

Besides, even if he absorbed the Essence Souls of these Demon Beasts, it wouldn’t help him advance his Cultivation Realm.

If he failed to reach Foundation Establishment, then no matter how powerful he became, he would eventually just turn to dust.

Though he couldn’t find the answer in books, Zhao Lin didn’t give up.

The species on the Xuanyuan Continent were as countless as the grains of sand in a desert. The creatures recorded in books were but a tiny fraction; countless unknown Demon Beasts and bizarre insects remained undocumented.

The best way to find a suitable Essence Soul was to go out and see them for himself.

But as a sect disciple, Zhao Lin couldn’t come and go from Han Chi County as he pleased. And even if he could, he wouldn’t want to take the risk.

His own cultivation was too low; running into even a moderately strong Demon Beast would be a death sentence.

Just as he was lost in thought, the small cauldron suddenly made a CLICK.

The Spirit Rice was ready.

A sudden flash of inspiration struck Zhao Lin. He slapped his thigh. "Wait a minute! Don’t they raise a lot of Spirit Beasts and spirit insects right here in Han Chi County?"

"How could I have overlooked what was right under my nose!"