Chapter 1088: Luminous Dao Mark

Three years felt like a fleeting instant in the cavern deep within Wan Du Valley.

When Han Wuxian opened his eyes again, the floating stardust in the cavern was no longer drifting in disorder.

They rose and fell in rhythm with his breath, like flowing sand guided by an invisible hand. The Nascent Soul in his dantian grew ever more solid, and the Dark Gold Star Pattern on his three‑inch figure had perfectly synchronized with Han Wuxian's own flesh, even the precisely measured chill in his gaze was replicated without the slightest error.

From the early to the later stages of the Nascent Soul, others need decades of arduous cultivation, yet he required only three years. This was not solely due to the gift of the Star‑Earth Seed, but also to his near‑obsessive honing of the very notion of "control."

When he first broke through the Nascent Soul, Han Wuxian's power was like a wild horse with its reins cut. In an attempt to run the "Star Expansion Technique," the star power spilling from his fingertips pierced the cavern ceiling's rock layer, causing the beasts around Wan Du Valley to roar in agitation for three whole days.

"No matter how strong the power, if you can't grasp it it's empty talk," he frowned at the star ray coalescing in his palm. The ray initially flickered like a dancing flame, and a moment's neglect would cause it to explode, scorching the surrounding star‑marrow veins. He then spent two hours each day practicing "Pin Star."

He used star power to condense a grain‑sized speck of light, then wrapped it layer by layer with earth power until the speck shrank to a barely visible particle, yet still retained explosive potential.

Three years later, as his fingertips brushed the air, star power and earth power could achieve "capture upon touch." He casually rested the Fragmented Star Blade on his knee; no star light leaked from the blade, and only when approached could one see the blackened blade surface where star patterns and rock patterns flowed slowly at an imperceptibly fine frequency.

That was the two forces coexisting in the most precise rhythm—add a fraction and it overflows, subtract a fraction and it stalls.

The core paradox of the Star‑Earth Seed is always the "dispersion" of star power versus the "condensation" of earth power. In the early stage, if he used star power to drive the Fragmented Star Blade, his movement would be hampered by the drag of earth power; if he focused on earth power for defense, the agitation of star power would expose a flaw.

His solution was to practice "Piercing Mist" within the Poison Miasma of Wan Du Valley. The miasma's resistance was like a flowing wall; he had to tear a gap with star power while stabilizing his form with earth power. The two forces had to switch within each breath, and any imbalance would be eroded by the miasma.

By the third year, as he passed through the densest miasma, his figure resembled a strand of dark‑gold thread. The path of the Fragmented Star Blade through the mist was no longer a straight slash but a spiraling arc.

Star power formed a rotating edge on the outer layer, while earth power provided a steady thrust at the core; the two forces twisted together like a single steel cable, both sharp and resilient. Once, when he raised his hand to block a massive rock falling from the cliff, the rock, the instant it touched his palm, was first shattered into powder by star power, then compressed into a thin sheet by earth power. The entire process was silent, as if the rock were meant to vanish that way.

The "spiritual perception outward" of a Nascent Soul cultivator, in Han Wuxian's case, was refined into the more delicate "Micro Refinement." He could transform the Nascent Soul's spiritual awareness into millions of fine needles that probed the texture of the star‑marrow veins, feeling every thread of Earth Vein Power; he could also spread his awareness like a star net, capturing the wing‑beat frequency of insects ten li away.

More astonishing was his control over the Nascent Soul. During a cultivation session, a stalactite atop the cavern suddenly cracked; without even opening his eyes, the Nascent Soul in his dantian raised a hand and, using a miniature Fragmented Star Blade, traced an arc identical to his body's movement. Star power surged from the Nascent Soul's fingertips, slicing the falling stalactite into thirty‑six equal pieces before it hit the ground, each cross‑section smooth as a mirror.

This was no longer simple "synchronization," but a perfect symbiosis of power and will.

That day, he finally brought the last restless strand of star power under his control. When the two forces formed a perfect closed loop around the Nascent Soul, the Earth Vein deep within the cavern emitted a long resonance, as if cheering this ultimate mastery. Han Wuxian rose, the Fragmented Star Blade leapt automatically into his palm, and the blade's star and rock patterns lit up simultaneously, no longer a blinding glare but a warm jade‑like sheen that cast his profile in alternating light and shadow.

He walked to the cavern's entrance, gazing at the flowing sea of clouds beyond the valley. With a casual flourish, the Fragmented Star Blade transformed into a dark‑gold stream of light, tracing a complex circle in the cloud sea; when he retracted it, the blade bore three crystal‑clear droplets.

Those were precisely plucked with star power from the cloud sea, each droplet's weight exact to the finest fraction.

"Almost there," he murmured to himself. Three years of arduous cultivation, he had not deliberately chased a leap in realm, yet through honing his power he naturally reached the threshold of the later Nascent Soul stage. Now his strength might not be as overwhelming as peers of the same level, but it is certainly more precise and refined than anyone's.

It is like a sword hidden in its scabbard; its edge has been sheathed, yet a gentle draw can cut through the hardest barrier.

Han Wuxian cast one last glance at the cavern deep within Wan Du Valley, then turned and swooped into the cloud sea. His figure traced a smooth arc in the air; star power made him as light as a feather, earth power as steady as rock, the intertwined trajectory of the two forces resembling a dark‑gold lightning about to split the heavens.

As for his destination, he had no clear aim. Yet he knew the control forged over these three years would allow him to grip his own blade in any storm.

"Hm?" he lowered his head to look at the back of his hand, where the skin glimmered with a faint golden sheen under the moonlight. It was not the dark gold of the Star‑Earth Seed, but a purer, more translucent luster, like molten sunlight compressed into liquid.

He lifted his hand to brush it; the feel was no different from ordinary skin, yet when he activated star power, the golden sheen would flow along the vessels, condensing between his wrist into an ultra‑fine line.

It was neither the complexity of star patterns nor the weight of rock patterns, but a straight line composed of countless light points, stripped to ultimate simplicity, yet exuding a sharpness that seemed to pierce illusion itself.

"Dao Mark?" Han Wuxian raised an eyebrow. When cultivators touch the edge of a law, Dao Marks appear on the body or artifacts; this is common knowledge. Yet he had never deliberately sensed a "law," nor imagined his Dao Mark would take the form of "light."

He tried to infuse star power into the Dao Mark. In an instant, the moonlight atop the cliff seemed drawn by an invisible force, coalescing at his fingertip into a half‑inch strand of light. The strand was as fine as a hair yet possessed astonishing penetrative power.

With a casual flick, the light strand pierced the three‑inch‑thick cliff wall, leaving a needle‑sized hole whose edges were smooth as a mirror, not even a speck of stone flung.

"It's not the light of stars, nor the light of flame..." he gazed at the lingering luminescence on his fingertip. This light bore no heat, yet could precisely "cut" Existence; it had no area, yet could extend along his will, as if the very embodiment of "precision."