Chapter Twenty-Nine: Stealing the Sun and Moon, Consuming Divine Essence, Three Grades of Magical Artifacts

Rising in the faint light of dawn, Luo Zu gazed out at the mountain ranges and swallowed a mouthful of azure haze. This was the fruit of a night’s cultivation: under the first glimmer of daylight, he had stolen a trace of the sun’s essence. Even such a slender wisp, once consumed, set Luo Zu’s entire being aflame; his flesh, sinews, organs, and mind brimmed with vitality, as if he had already eaten his fill for the entire day.

This was a recent revelation for Luo Zu, but whence did it come? The insight was gained from the monkey demon. Though the monkey demon had died, unlike the eagle demon, he had left something behind. The eagle demon’s lair had been crushed beneath massive boulders, so though victory brought dominion over these woods, Luo Zu had not obtained the core secrets of the eagle demon—the method by which they attained sentience and entered the path of cultivation.

But the monkey demon’s case was different. Luo Zu had slaughtered the entire family but left their nest intact, giving him the chance to plunder their legacy. There, Luo Zu discovered a cultivation method: “All Beings Worship the Sun and Moon.”

This technique had been instilled into the sun and moon by a mighty demon, hoping to foster the birth of more demonkind throughout the primordial world. Thus, all living things had a chance to acquire this method from the sun and moon, especially those ignorant beings born without intellect—such creatures, lacking wisdom, were all the more likely to stumble upon this path. With it, they could revere the sun and moon, absorbing their essence and awakening their minds.

Upon acquiring this method, Luo Zu delved into it day and night and even cast it into his miniature world within the gourd, allowing the little humans there to study it as well. He manipulated the gourd world’s sun and moon, capturing and infusing them with the true sun and moon’s radiance, so that his miniature humanity could cultivate under the same conditions.

Thus, he unwittingly triggered another minor “version update” within the gourd world’s civilization. Though Luo Zu did not personally orchestrate this update, it was the indirect result of his actions; after all, he had not planned to instigate a new era just yet.

The spread of “All Beings Worship the Sun and Moon” led to a surge of cultivators who refined their bodies with the essence of heaven and earth. Then, a figure named Cang emerged, who combined the breath-cultivating methods with this new practice, creating a technique called “Spirit-Offering Enlightenment.”

Spirit-Offering Enlightenment meant presenting one’s thoughts in worship to the myriad “gods” of heaven and earth, thereby drawing out the subtle essence they diffused into the spiritual energy of the world. That essence could be refined into one’s own mind and vital energy, yielding results far greater than ordinary spiritual absorption. Moreover, this vital energy would carry traces of the myriad gods’ wonders, granting unusual attributes.

Of course, it could also be refined into pure vital energy, preserving the cultivator’s inherent nature. Cang named this method “Enlightenment through Devouring the Divine.”

Such talent Luo Zu had never expected; nevertheless, he shamelessly accepted this method, then sped up his own time, reworking it to suit himself with the help of the miniature humans’ wisdom. After ten years within the gourd world, Luo Zu forged a method for harvesting the sun’s essence.

But the sun’s power was overwhelming. Even suspended high above the earth, its rays, just a single beam, were enough to sustain life across vast lands. Now, Luo Zu dared only to take a ten-thousandth of a single ray—a limit determined by his experiments in the gourd world. Any more, and he feared he would burn to ashes then and there.

Now, refining even that tiny wisp of sunlight meant Luo Zu would not have to meditate for the rest of the day, and his physical constitution had improved as well. No wonder beasts could awaken intelligence from such a gift; with this alone, and perhaps some essence of the moon as well…

Yet, even among demonkind, cultivating “All Beings Worship the Sun and Moon” could not be done recklessly. Beyond the danger of bodily collapse, there was the risk of being “account-locked” by the sun and moon. This meant the demon lords who managed the heavens had set restrictions, lest their method be exploited by other powers, and so they strictly regulated how much essence each region’s demons could draw. If suspected of subterfuge, those mighty demon gods would come seeking answers.

But Luo Zu had an idea. With the gourd world and its multitude of miniature humans, he could let them absorb the essence of sun and moon, then, as their lord, take a modest share for himself—just thirty percent. With so many cultivators, the quota set by the demon lords would not be exceeded, and his scheme would go unnoticed.

Of course, Luo Zu was not ready to implement this plan. For now, even a ten-thousandth of a sunbeam nearly overwhelmed him. Besides, how could one call this “theft” when it was simply the natural course of cultivation? It was, after all, a matter of harmonizing yin and yang.

To enact his plan, he would need to experiment step by step: ten people, then a hundred, then a thousand, even ten thousand. If nothing unusual occurred, there would be no need to stand on ceremony with the demon heaven.

After swallowing the azure haze, Luo Zu exhaled a breath of true energy onto the great sword planted before him.

This massive sword now bore a name: Giant Severance.

In his previous life, he had heard of famous blades, and this was such a sword—thick and heavy, though blunt. Yet Luo Zu’s Giant Severance was not only massive but incomparably keen. He had borrowed the name Giant Severance, and would not let it be sullied.

He had even carved two crooked characters—Giant Severance—onto the sword’s blade.

A clear, faintly purple-tinged vital energy circled the sword once before returning to Luo Zu, diminished by thirty percent. That portion had been absorbed by the restrictions embedded within Giant Severance.

Luo Zu now classified magical implements into three tiers: implements, treasures, and divine treasures. Implements were further divided into lower, middle, and upper grades, suitable for those below the true immortal realm. He had yet to encounter or create treasures or divine treasures, but for now, they too were divided into three grades.

The grade of an implement depended on the number of restrictions carved within: fewer than eighteen marked a lower-grade implement; between eighteen and thirty-six, a middle-grade; thirty-six to seventy-two, an upper-grade. At present, Giant Severance had but a single restriction.

To forge a restriction, one needed to inscribe runes with true energy. Luo Zu used cursive script as his runic language. Though these characters lacked the innate mystery of the sorcerer and demon scripts, once infused with his true energy, they sufficed for the purpose.

Yet the essence of a restriction lay not in the runes, but in the cultivator’s own spirit and art.