Chapter 407: Getting the Old Madman

Fang Yu's gaze fixed on the old madman, a divine art flowing over his entire body.

This divine art is called the Prayer of Blessing, a technique above Jin Dan level belonging to the Firecloud Immortal of the Linglong Blessing Ground, passed down to Fang Yu by Fang Han.

This divine art possesses no offensive or defensive power—it is merely a method to calm the spirit, suppressing one's own divinity, silently observing fortune and fate, dispelling all misfortunes, and tightly uniting oneself with heaven and earth.

This technique can at best be called a great divine art, not reaching the level of supreme divine arts; during ordinary cultivation, it does little more than purify the mind and reduce desires, slightly increasing wisdom, stabilizing one's Dao heart, enabling steady, unhurried, and relentless advancement—it holds no great power, serving only as an auxiliary divine art.

Prayer, prayer—sincere supplication, peaceful cultivation, attaining the unseen blessings, bringing celestial fortune; its effects are invisible in daily life, but now, as Fang Yu stirred his spirit and activated the Prayer of Blessing, a faint, ethereal presence filled the air, carrying the clear sound of sacred scriptures.

These scriptures were like the pure tones flowing through heaven and earth; wherever they passed, it was as if morning bells and evening drums urged deep reflection, or as if a sudden blow to the head brought sudden enlightenment.

At this moment, not only Fang Yu, but also Ye Fan and Pang Bo beside him, felt their hearts become lively and agile—wisdom arose within them, as if many obstacles on the path of cultivation had suddenly been resolved.

Ye Fan was unaffected, for he possessed the Bodhi Seed; but Pang Bo, at this moment, gained deeper insight—he had always struggled to comprehend cultivation, spending long periods to grasp the Dao Scripture, yet now, as he sensed the Prayer of Blessing, wisdom bloomed, his mind cleared, and many things he had once failed to understand suddenly became clear, plunging him directly into a state of awakening.

The old madman, who had been curled up on the large green rock, trembling uncontrollably, bearing no resemblance to the invincible great figure of six thousand years ago, suddenly shot two brilliant beams of light from his eyes, piercing straight through the void.

All sorrowful expression vanished; he sat up straight at once.

He seemed transformed into another person—like a peerless sword unsheathed, his gaze sweeping across the air, generating invisible yet palpable pressure.

At this moment, silence fell over Shanling; every bird and beast trembled in fear.

The old madman now radiated immense authority, like a mountain—unimaginable in its magnitude.

"Many years have passed—I wandered in delusion, never expecting to awaken today."

The old madman's gaze sensed the clear, flowing scriptures in the void; his former fragility vanished, replaced now by terrifying power.

"That year, the setting sun was crimson; that year, our entire sect launched an attack; that year, every soldier perished; that year's agony has lasted until today."

The old madman had fully awakened, yet when he recalled the past, his pain remained unbearable.

"Master, please bear your grief with composure."

Fang Yu sensed the aura of this peerless powerhouse from six thousand years ago—it was indeed mountainous and oceanic, yet to him, it meant nothing.

As for events six thousand years ago, he could only offer condolences; after all, the Tianxuan Sacred Sect's assault on the Ancient Forbidden Land could be called heroic if unknown, or suicidal if understood.

It was like running headfirst into a wall.

Fang Yu stood outside this mountain, so he knew it was a futile strike—ten Tianxuan Sacred Sects combined would still be useless against the Ancient Sacred Land.

"Bear my grief… I thought I'd remain deluded until my lifespan ended. Now that I've awakened, how can I bear my grief?"

The old madman's expression was indescribable—he had been deluded, like a madman, yet now, awakened by a junior's divine art, his clarity brought no relief.