Dragon's Awakening, and Revenge Plots

Chapter 22: Dragon's Awakening, and Revenge Plots

Sanjeev, having chosen the God-level technique, "Roaring of Nine Dragons," from the Lotus Blade Sect's vast library, was eager to delve into its secrets. He unrolled the ancient scroll, its surface cool and smooth to the touch, and prepared to immerse himself in its teachings.

As he began to read, the familiar phenomenon occurred. The elegant, flowing script of the technique detached itself from the scroll and surged into his mind, imprinting itself onto his very consciousness. It was as if the technique was alive, seeking to become a part of him.

Sanjeev absorbed the information with his usual speed, marveling at the intricate diagrams and the profound explanations of energy flow. The Roaring of Nine Dragons was a devastatingly powerful attack, capable of unleashing a series of nine explosive blasts of spiritual energy, each one shaped like a roaring dragon.

However, as Sanjeev delved deeper, a problem arose. The technique, like all the others he had encountered in this world, relied on the manipulation of external spiritual energy. It required the cultivator to draw upon the ambient energy of the environment, to gather it, refine it, and then unleash it in a focused burst.

This presented a significant obstacle for Sanjeev. His cultivation method, rooted in the ancient ways of his past life, focused on the awakening and utilization of internal energy. He didn't draw upon external sources; he generated his own power from within. He was a closed system, self-sufficient and independent.

He tried to visualize himself performing the technique as it was written, but it felt... wrong. It was like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. His internal energy clashed with the external energy pathways described in the scroll, creating a disharmony that prevented him from executing the technique.

Frustration welled up within Sanjeev. He had finally obtained a God-level technique, a method of unimaginable power, and yet, he couldn't use it. It was like having a key to a treasure chest, only to find that the key didn't fit the lock.

But Sanjeev was not one to be easily deterred. He was a cultivator, a seeker of knowledge, a problem-solver. He refused to accept defeat. He spent hours poring over the scroll, studying its diagrams, analyzing its principles, searching for a way to adapt it to his unique cultivation style.

He realized that the core of the problem lay in the way energy was gathered and utilized. The technique required the cultivator to first gather external energy, then channel it through specific meridians, and finally release it in a focused attack. Sanjeev needed to find a way to bypass the gathering stage and directly utilize the energy of the world.

An idea began to form in his mind, a radical concept that challenged the very foundations of cultivation in this world. What if he didn't need to gather the energy beforehand? What if he could draw upon the energy of the world at the moment of the attack, channeling it directly into the technique as he unleashed it?

It was a risky proposition. It would require an unprecedented level of control, a perfect synchronization between his internal energy and the raw power of the environment. But Sanjeev felt a surge of excitement. It was a challenge, a test of his abilities, and he was eager to try.

He began to experiment, making subtle changes to the technique, altering the flow of energy, and visualizing the direct connection to the ambient spiritual energy. He imagined himself as a conduit, a channel through which the power of the world could flow.

He practiced for days, his room filled with the echoes of his frustrated grunts and the crackling of his energy. He failed countless times, his attempts resulting in weak, sputtering bursts of power or uncontrolled surges of energy that threatened to overwhelm him.

But with each failure, he learned. He refined his control, honed his focus, and gradually, he began to make progress. He discovered that by using his divine sense, he could perceive the intricate web of spiritual energy that permeated the world, and he could tap into it with increasing precision.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he achieved a breakthrough. He stood in his room, his body trembling with anticipation, and visualized the Roaring of Nine Dragons. He channeled his internal energy, but instead of focusing on gathering external energy, he reached out to the world around him.

He felt the ambient spiritual energy respond to his will, drawn to him like iron filings to a magnet. It surged into his meridians, merging with his internal power, and then, with a mighty roar, he unleashed the technique.

Nine colossal dragons of pure energy erupted from his hands, each one a manifestation of his will, each one carrying the force of a devastating explosion. The room shook, the very air vibrating with the raw power of the attack.

Sanjeev stared at the aftermath of his technique, his chest heaving with exertion, his eyes shining with triumph. He had done it. He had successfully adapted a technique of this world to his unique cultivation style. He had discovered his own method, a way to use any technique, regardless of its origin.

He realized the implications of his discovery. He could now perform any technique he knew, any technique he might learn in the future. And because he was drawing energy directly from the environment, his reserves were virtually limitless. He would never run out of power.

A wave of exhilaration washed over Sanjeev. He had overcome a seemingly insurmountable obstacle, and in doing so, he had unlocked a new level of power. He was no longer bound by the limitations of this world's cultivation methods. He had forged his own path, and that path stretched before him, filled with endless possibilities.

Meanwhile, in another part of the sect, a storm was brewing.

Miao Li, the crown princess of the Li country, was a woman accustomed to getting her way. She had grown up surrounded by luxury and privilege, her every whim catered to, her every desire fulfilled. She believed that her royal status placed her above everyone else, that she was entitled to respect, obedience, and whatever she desired.

When she had witnessed Xiner's display of talent in the library, a dark seed of jealousy had taken root in her heart. She couldn't bear the thought of someone else, especially someone from a "common" background, outshining her, receiving more attention and admiration.

She had convinced herself that Xiner's techniques, the Heaven-level methods that had so astounded everyone, rightfully belonged to her. She was a princess, after all. It was her birthright to possess the best, the most powerful techniques.

Driven by her arrogance and her burning envy, Miao Li decided to confront Xiner directly. She marched to Xiner's room, her face twisted with a mixture of anger and entitlement. She barged in without knocking, her eyes blazing with fury.

Xiner, who was meditating, opened her eyes, her expression calm and composed. She regarded Miao Li with a quiet indifference, her aura radiating a serene power that belied her youthful appearance.

"What do you want?" Xiner asked, her voice cool and steady.

Miao Li sneered. "I've come to give you an order," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "Hand over all the techniques you received in the library. They belong to me."

Xiner raised an eyebrow, her expression incredulous. "And why would I do that?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement. "Why would I give you my techniques?"

Miao Li's face contorted with rage. "Because I am the crown princess of the Li country!" she spat. "This sect, and everything in it, falls under the jurisdiction of my country. You are a mere disciple, a commoner. You will obey my orders."

Xiner's eyes flashed with a cold light. "No," she said, her voice firm and unwavering. "I will not obey your orders. I will not give you my techniques. And I suggest you leave before you waste any more of my time."

Miao Li's face turned crimson with fury. She had never been spoken to like this before, never been defied so blatantly. Her sense of entitlement was shattered, her pride wounded.

"You dare to defy me?" she shrieked, her voice shrill and hysterical. "You will pay for this insolence!"

Without warning, Miao Li attacked. She unleashed a flurry of blows, her movements clumsy and uncontrolled, her power fueled by her rage. Xiner, however, was far more skilled. She moved with effortless grace, dodging Miao Li's attacks with ease, her movements fluid and precise.

Xiner, though at the same realm as Miao Li, the Svādhiṣṭhāna Flow, was far more powerful. Her control over her spiritual energy was superior, her techniques more refined, her battle instincts sharper. She could have ended the fight quickly, but she chose to prolong it, to teach Miao Li a lesson in humility.

She used a technique from her family's ancestral legacy, the "Lotus Blade." With each movement, petals of pure energy bloomed around her, their edges sharp and deadly. She moved like a dance, a whirlwind of beauty and power, her Lotus Blades deflecting Miao Li's attacks and gently, but firmly, striking back.

With a final, elegant flourish, Xiner's Lotus Blades converged, forming a single, radiant flower of energy. She directed the flower towards Miao Li's face, and with a soft, resounding crack, delivered a stinging slap.

Miao Li staggered back, her face burning with pain and humiliation. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her carefully crafted image of superiority shattered. She had been defeated, utterly and completely, by someone she considered beneath her.

"You... you..." Miao Li sputtered, unable to find the words to express her rage and shame. She turned and fled, her dignity in tatters, her heart filled with a burning desire for revenge.

Back in her room, Miao Li descended into a fit of hysterical rage. She smashed furniture, tore her clothes, and screamed until her voice was hoarse. Her carefully constructed world had crumbled, her sense of self-worth shattered.

In her despair, she did the only thing she knew how to do: she called for her brother.

The Crown Prince of the Li country, a man named Li Xuan, was as arrogant and entitled as his sister. He had been spoiled from birth, raised to believe that he was destined to rule, that everyone else existed to serve him.

When he arrived at his sister's room and saw her state, his face twisted with fury. He listened to her tearful account of the events, his anger growing with each word. He couldn't believe that someone would dare to harm his sister, a princess of the Li country.

"That... that bitch!" Li Xuan snarled, his voice a low, menacing growl. "She will pay for this. I will teach her a lesson she will never forget. No one harms my sister and gets away with it."

He vowed to avenge his sister, to crush Xiner and anyone who dared to stand in his way. He began to plot, his mind filled with dark thoughts of retribution.

Meanwhile, in his own room, Sanjeev was undergoing a transformation of his own.

After his breakthrough with the Roaring of Nine Dragons technique, Sanjeev had continued his cultivation practice, pushing his limits, seeking to unlock even greater power. He meditated for hours, guiding the Agni flame through his meridians, his consciousness expanding, his connection to the world deepening.

Suddenly, he felt a surge of energy within him, a familiar sensation that heralded a breakthrough. His spiritual energy churned, his meridians vibrated, and he felt himself rising, floating in the air.

Behind him, a radiant chakra began to form, a wheel of pure energy that pulsed with divine light. It was the sign that he was about to advance to the next realm, the Maṇipūra Radiance.

The energy within him reached a crescendo, and with a resounding boom, Sanjeev's consciousness expanded, and he was transported to a higher level of existence. He had broken through, becoming the youngest person in the history of the Lotus Blade Sect to reach the Maṇipūra Radiance realm at the age of seventeen.

When Sanjeev returned to his physical body, he felt a surge of power, a sense of clarity and control that he had never experienced before. He had reached a new level of understanding, a new stage in his cultivation journey.

Eager to explore his newfound abilities, Sanjeev delved into his memories, searching for the technique he had received upon reaching this realm. He discovered that he had gained the "Divine Eye," an extraordinary ability that enhanced his perception and understanding.

The Divine Eye granted him several incredible powers. First, it made him immune to illusions. No deception, no trickery, no matter how subtle or powerful, could fool him. He could see through any disguise, any facade, any attempt to manipulate his senses.

Second, it gave him an unparalleled ability to learn and comprehend formations and weapon refining techniques. He could learn any formation or weapon-refining method simply by observing it. If he saw someone performing a technique, or if he touched a completed formation or weapon, he could instantly understand its structure, its principles, and its creation process.

This meant that Sanjeev could not only learn any technique of formation or weapon refining, but he could also create his own, based on his newfound understanding. He was a master craftsman, a weaver of energy, a shaper of reality.

To test his new ability, Sanjeev focused his Divine Eye on his Mountain Slashing Sword, the powerful weapon he had obtained during his trials. He saw the sword with new clarity, perceiving not just its physical form, but also the intricate network of energy that flowed within it.

He saw the different materials that had been used in its forging, each one chosen for its specific properties. He saw the complex formation that had been inscribed onto its surface, enhancing its strength and channeling its power. He understood why each material had been used, why the formation had been designed in that particular way.

Sanjeev realized that with his Divine Eye, he could not only understand existing weapons and formations, but he could also create his own, surpassing even the most masterful creations of the past. He could forge weapons of unimaginable power, design formations of unparalleled complexity, and shape the world to his will.

As Sanjeev marveled at his newfound abilities, there was a frantic knock on his door. He opened it to find Xiner, her face pale, her body trembling, her clothes torn and stained with blood. She was severely injured, her once radiant aura dimmed and flickering.

"Sanjeev..." she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. Then, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed into his arms, unconscious.