Damn old fogey?

Damn old fogey?

Returning to his residence, Qin Wentian immersed himself in cultivation. However, his condition was far from ideal at the moment.

In his dream, Qin Wentian found himself beneath a starlit sky, where above him, intricate runic lines weaved and danced, transforming into countless fist shadows that filled the heavens. As these shadows rained down upon him, Qin Wentian remained calm. He knew they couldn't harm him; after all, this was his own dreamscape.

Currently, Qin Wentian was attempting to recreate and mimic the scenarios he had encountered from the 1st to the 5th levels of the Astral River Hall. On the 5th level, he sensed the beautiful runic lines transforming into a spiraling black hole before manifesting into terrifying fist lights, crashing down towards him. However, when he stepped onto the 6th level, the fist lights were no longer mere lights; they became heavenly fist shadows infused with the power of constellations, as if they aimed to annihilate both heaven and earth.

Each of these fist shadows resembled a constellation, a magnificent sight of tens of millions of constellations descending, sending shivers down even the spines of the bravest warriors. It was especially during that moment when the pressure bore down on his consciousness, and the countless constellations merged into a singular entity, forming a stream of light that violently shook his entire being.

"How magnificent," Qin Wentian muttered, his gaze fixed on the starlit skies in his dream, utterly captivated.

After a few moments, the Astral Energy within Qin Wentian's body surged. An Astral Hammer materialized from Astral Light, and he swung it downward with force, imprinting the ground with a divine mark resembling the starry skies from his dream. Within the imprint, countless miniature constellations revolved slowly in a circular motion.

"If I were to inscribe this divine mark onto a weapon, the enhancement it would provide is beyond imagination. Perhaps I can even create a top-tier, 3rd-grade Divine Weapon," Qin Wentian thought with excitement. He quickly grabbed a pencil and some paper, beginning to replicate the divine mark he had seen beneath the starry skies.

After numerous attempts and a significant passage of time, Qin Wentian finally succeeded in inscribing the 2nd Divine Imprint of his own creation.

Just like before, a figure grasped the ancient halberd with a single hand. This strike carried the weight of a mountain, and as the ancient halberd thrust forward, a terrifying spiral emerged. At the halberd's tip, multiple constellations spun in beautiful arcs as they shot out within the fearsome spiral, giving the impression that it could consume anything in its path.

"This will be the second stance of my Great Dream Halberd Art – the Fallen Star Stance," Qin Wentian muttered in a hushed tone.

He now had two stances of the Great Dream Halberd Art that he had created: the first was the Mountain Splitter, and now he had the Fallen Star.

To use these stances, Qin Wentian needed to gather and condense a sufficient amount of Astral Energy. Fortunately, with his ability to condense Divine Energy, this was not a problem.

Standing up, Qin Wentian began to practice the second stance, Fallen Star, inside his dreamscape. While it was one thing to imagine inscribing the Divine Imprint, using it in actual combat required much higher proficiency and was by no means easy.

He had gained insight into the creation of Fallen Star from the Astral River Hall. However, emulating the power levels of the terrifying spiral black hole from the 5th and 6th levels in the Astral River Hall was impossible. At best, the power of his attacks would be on par with the astral pressure of the 3rd level. Nevertheless, this was sufficient to significantly enhance his combat capabilities. The second stance, which he had created, would be his most potent attack since the development of Mountain Splitter. Its power surpassed Mountain Splitter by countless times.

As Qin Wentian fervently cultivated, he lamented that time was running out. Although Little Rascal was incredibly fast, it would still take some time to reach the Chu Emperor District. This was the reason why almost no one was left in the Emperor Star Academy. The distance was simply too great for those without demonic beasts as mounts, resulting in a substantial waste of time.

Ultimately, Qin Wentian hadn't fully mastered Fallen Star. He rushed to absorb Astral Energy from his Yuan Meteor Stones to replenish his energy, silently regretting that time was slipping away.

As the Astral Energy in his body returned to the optimal level, Qin Wentian's consciousness delved into his sea of consciousness. There, he once again encountered the tiny Astral Being.

This was the inheritance left to him by his father, a stone that used to hang around his neck. Qin Wentian had previously gleaned invaluable knowledge from the memory fragments of the tiny Astral Being, including heaven-defying techniques like the Spirit Refinement Method. Although not a divine innate technique, he dared not underestimate the worth of the Spirit Refinement Method. He knew that if it were ever exposed, it could potentially throw the entire Chu Country into chaos.

"The 3rd round of the Jun Lin Banquet is almost here. I wonder which memory fragment I'll obtain this time. Let's hope I get lucky," Qin Wentian mumbled to himself. After experiencing the overwhelming killing intent and power of Sikong Mingyue, Qin Wentian felt immense pressure. His current strength was not sufficient for him to win the championship, especially since he had not yet fully mastered the Fallen Star Stance. That's why he hoped for some luck in obtaining memory fragments that could enhance his abilities.

As his consciousness entered the Astral Being, Qin Wentian felt like he had entered a vast Astral River filled with countless astral memory fragments.

Qin Wentian's will roamed through this astral realm, and the Yuan Meteor Stones he held transformed into streams of dazzling light, rushing toward the tiny Astral Being. He spared no expense, using large amounts of Yuan Meteor Stones in the hope of finding a method to boost his combat strength.

Fragment after fragment was absorbed into Qin Wentian's consciousness. He managed to activate a total of 10 astral memory fragments before his consciousness was expelled from the tiny Astral Being. When he opened his eyes, he felt a pang in his heart as he looked at the empty shells of the Yuan Meteor Stones scattered on the ground.

The cost was astronomical. If it weren't for the Divine Weapon Pavilion providing him with almost an endless supply of Astral Stones for his cultivation, he wouldn't have been able to activate a single astral memory fragment.

However, Qin Wentian couldn't dwell on the expense. He closed his eyes again, focusing on digesting the memories, hoping to find something valuable.

In the first memory fragment, his heart trembled involuntarily as he watched the scene it contained. He witnessed countless peerless experts engaged in an epic battle, standing as formidable figures between Heaven and Earth. These experts were beings he could only dream of encountering.

But what truly made his heart tremble was spotting someone familiar in the memory—Uncle Black!

In the fleeting scenes, Uncle Black appeared not as a crippled man but as a robust, healthy figure. His black hair cascaded over his shoulders, giving him an almost mesmerizing, handsome charm that nearly made Qin Wentian fail to recognize him.

Standing beside Uncle Black was a middle-aged man whom Qin Wentian had seen before. He was none other than the godly figure Qin Wentian had encountered in the Qin Heavenly Divine Sect. This middle-aged man had his hands clasped behind his back, while Uncle Black stood beside him, seemingly as his subordinate.

This scene was incredibly brief, and as Qin Wentian's consciousness retreated from the memory fragment, his eyes reddened, and he clenched his fists tightly, as if overwhelmed with anguish.

Seeing Uncle Black's vigor and vitality in the memory, it was difficult to reconcile with the "crippled" old man who had raised him. Who had inflicted these injuries upon Uncle Black? What kind of battles had he endured?

And who exactly was that middle-aged figure? Why did he appear in every single memory?

Taking a deep breath, Qin Wentian continued to process the memories. As he watched more scenes unfold, he noticed a common thread—the middle-aged figure was present in all of them.

A daring hypothesis formed in Qin Wentian's mind: Could it be that the memory fragments within the tiny Astral Being originated from this middle-aged man? If that were the case, had his entire memory been shattered and transformed into countless fragments?

And just who was this enigmatic middle-aged figure? Could he possibly be the elusive old man who had raised him?

As Qin Wentian pondered this revelation, a torrent of emotions surged within him. According to Uncle Black, the mystical stone from earlier was the only thing left behind by the mysterious old man. If his speculations were correct, if the astral memory fragments within the tiny Astral Being contained the memories of that middle-aged man, then there was a high likelihood that this man was his birth father!

If this were indeed the truth, it would explain why Uncle Black had always watched over him from the shadows. Uncle Black was either the middle-aged man's loyal subordinate or a dear friend, as evidenced by the fact that, even after Uncle Black was crippled, he had spared no effort in protecting and nurturing Qin Wentian as he grew up.

In this moment, Qin Wentian's original purpose had faded into the background. Immersed in these newfound memories, he eagerly sought clues about his own background, voraciously devouring the memory fragments one after another until only one remained.

The final memory portrayed a young man standing amidst towering structures, his face etched with stubborn determination that contrasted with his majestic surroundings. Seated cross-legged, his eyes displayed a resolute gleam as astral light emanated from his index finger. Suddenly, the young man pierced his own body with his finger while reciting an incantation. The chant somehow resonated in Qin Wentian's mind.

Instantaneously, the young man's entire body turned crimson. Inside his bloodstream, the shackles of his bloodline appeared, flickering in and out of existence. As his finger penetrated his body and the incantation took effect, layer after layer of these constraints shattered. The youth screamed in agony, his body drenched in blood, wracked with intense pain.

Even after Qin Wentian's consciousness withdrew from the memory fragment, his heart still quivered with profound intensity.

So, the Twelve Connecting Styles of Life Needle Technique had its origins in this event. Furthermore, it appeared that this needle technique was specifically devised for this purpose.

The finger technique the young man had employed in his memory was identical to the needle technique Uncle Black had taught him. However, the young man's technique seemed capable of permanently unlocking the bloodline shackles, whereas the Twelve Connecting Styles of Life Needle Technique merely offered a temporary reprieve.

"Uncle Black must have been concerned that my body couldn't withstand the backlash, so he created a weaker version of the finger technique," Qin Wentian realized, understanding his mentor's intent. It seemed that the bloodline constraint of this middle-aged man was akin to his own. His earlier conjecture appeared to be accurate—the young man in the last memory was likely the middle-aged man during his youth.

"Everything seems to fall into place. If my damn old man left his memories for me, could he already be deceased?" Qin Wentian mused, gazing up at the starry skies.

Recalling the audacious deeds his father dared to undertake in his youth, Qin Wentian vowed not to disappoint him.

With resolute determination, Qin Wentian closed his eyes, and his finger glowed with Astral Light. In a sudden surge of action, he employed the essence and techniques of the Twelve Connecting Styles of Life Needle Technique, driving his finger into his own body. Moments later, the unsealing process initiated.

His blood began to boil with mounting intensity!