The moment Wang Chen sensed the Black Book stirring, he immediately cast the Soul Bone aside and sank his consciousness deep into his soul to see what was happening.
He knew very clearly what his true foundation was. A mere thousand-year Soul Bone, even a ten-thousand-year or hundred-thousand-year Soul Bone, could never compare to a single page of the Black Book.
Moments later, Wang Chen stared in shock. The Black Book, once battered and broken, had recovered slightly.
The change was faint, almost imperceptible. But because the Black Book was something Wang Chen regarded as the core of his existence, etched into his very mind, even the smallest change did not escape his notice.
A surge of joy washed over him.
Originally, the Black Book had been so damaged that only its most basic recording function remained. Now… did this mean some of the previously unusable abilities had returned?
Even if the most powerful features, like traveling between worlds, were still sealed, gaining even a minor new function would be a tremendous boon.
After all, just the simple record-and-learn ability had already allowed Wang Chen to fight across realms of power.
If not for the fact that Douluo Continent's soul skills were so limited and weak, things would have been even more terrifying.
If he were in some high-martial or immortal cultivation world, the Black Book would already have enabled him to learn countless powerful martial arts and Daoist techniques.
It was only Douluo Continent's weakness that held back the Black Book's potential.
Carrying that hope, Wang Chen immediately began to probe the Black Book to uncover its new function.
His consciousness flowed deeper, exploring every hidden corner.
Soon, he discovered something new: a crystal-like mark, formed of countless profound runes.
Wang Chen focused on it, and in an instant, its purpose became clear.
The mark's use was simple: by pouring spiritual power into it and then feeding in one of the skills recorded within the Black Book, the mark could deduce and perfect the ability.
How far the perfection could go depended on three factors: the potential of the skill, how flawed it was to begin with, and the strength of Wang Chen's spiritual power.
In other words, the more powerful and complete the skill, and the stronger Wang Chen's mind, the more terrifying the resulting transformation.
Wang Chen began to consider what he should feed into the mark first.
After a moment, he thought of his meditation technique—in truth, his cultivation method.
On the Douluo Continent, cultivation methods were crude. They barely scratched the surface of training and never touched upon the eight extraordinary meridians.
By contrast, Tang Shenwang had dominated the world with only the Mysterious Heaven Technique. That alone proved how weak the foundation of Douluo cultivation truly was.
Naturally, Wang Chen had always been dissatisfied with his own method. He had dreamed of improving it for years.
But the path of modifying cultivation methods was impossibly hard. The human body's meridians were countless. Every pathway, every cycle affected everything else.
Simply knowing of the meridians or the extraordinary channels was not nearly enough to create a working method.
Even if you created one, it would require endless human testing, corrections, and generations of refinement to perfect.
Many sects' secret manuals had only reached their current forms after dozens of generations worked tirelessly to improve them.
Wang Chen was still young, lacking both knowledge and time, and busy with his own training. How could he possibly improve a method by himself?
And even if he did, he would never dare use it. A flawed technique could cause deviation or even death.
Now, with the Black Book's second function revealed, he immediately decided to feed his meditation method into the crystal mark.
Acting without hesitation, Wang Chen poured a surge of spiritual power into the mark.
A faint glow lit up the crystal imprint.
Clearly, his spiritual power was still weak.
Once the input was complete, he projected his meditation method into the mark.
The Black Book could record skills simply by observation, but Wang Chen's own techniques could be input directly.
As his method and spiritual power merged into the mark, its mysterious force began to activate.
Moments later, the glow dimmed, and a vastly transformed cultivation method was transmitted directly into Wang Chen's consciousness.
This new method incorporated the eight extraordinary meridians, and its complexity dwarfed his original meditation technique by leagues.
His heart surged with joy—but the drain of spiritual power left him exhausted, forcing his awareness back to his body.
Suppressing his fatigue, he carefully stored the Soul Bone back into its box and soul tool, then collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep.
Meanwhile, in the Wang Clan's main hall…
Elder Wang Yuan, who had overseen the clan tournament, came to report to the patriarch.
Bowing, he said respectfully,
"Clan Leader, I have something to report."
Today, Patriarch Wang Yan was not reclining lazily as usual, but sitting upright at his desk, face somber.
He was troubled. Recently, the First Prince Xu Tianran and the Third Prince Xu Tianshi had joined forces against the Second Prince Xu Tianyu.
Several setbacks had left Xu Tianyu—whom Wang Yan supported—at a disadvantage.
As Xu Tianyu's ally, Wang Yan's mood had soured. He was considering his options:
One path was to undermine the fragile alliance between Xu Tianran and Xu Tianshi. After all, they were not natural allies, only bound by necessity.
The other was to draw in other princes who had no claim to the throne, offering promises and benefits in exchange for support.
Of the two, Wang Yan leaned toward the latter. Xu Tianran and Xu Tianshi were not fools—they knew unity was their only hope. Petty sabotage would be ignored.
But rallying the sidelined princes, even if they lacked true qualifications, would still expand Xu Tianyu's strength.
As he pondered, Wang Yuan remained bowed, waiting silently.
Finally, Wang Yan shifted his gaze and said flatly,
"Speak. What is it?"
Wang Yuan rose.
"Reporting to the Clan Leader: the champion of this year's tournament was Wang Chen. With only two rings, he defeated Wang Teng's three rings. His talent is extraordinary, a genius rarely seen in decades. Given time, he will surely become a great figure."
He did not dare press further. To demand that the patriarch cultivate Wang Chen would be overstepping. His duty was only to present the facts.
Wang Yan's eyes lit up. A Grand Soul Master defeating a Soul Elder—such feats were usually reserved for those with the most exalted martial souls.
The Wang Clan had many children, far more in this generation than in the last two. Among them, a true peerless talent had finally emerged.
Though Wang Yan's attention had been consumed by royal politics, he could not ignore such brilliance.
From his storage soul tool, he produced a jade token and tossed it to Wang Yuan.
"Grant him the Young Master's Token. From now on, his monthly allowance will be raised to one hundred thousand gold soul coins.
His food, clothing, lodging, cultivation resources, and treatment for acquiring spirit rings will all be raised to the highest tier. Assign him a team of guards at his disposal. That is all. You may go."
Wang Yuan accepted the token with a bow and withdrew.
Back at Wang Chen's home…
He slept through the day and into the night before finally awakening, his stomach growling.
After grabbing a quick meal, he returned to his room, too excited to delay.
He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and began cultivating with the new method.
And instantly, he was captivated.
The efficiency was at least twice as great as his old method, and more importantly, the soul power it refined was denser, of far higher quality.
For a Soul Master, soul power quality was critical.
To break through to Soul Sage, one's soul power had to condense into liquid form. To become a Titled Douluo, it had to be refined into a solid Soul Core.
This was why many who relied on pills early in life, creating hollow cultivation, could never cross those bottlenecks.
Now, with this new method, Wang Chen's path to Soul Sage and beyond would be far smoother.
After an hour of training, he opened his eyes, unable to suppress his grin.
"With this new method, I can maintain a terrifying pace of cultivation—at least until Soul King. For top-tier geniuses, that's four to five levels a year. With this… even ten levels in a year may be possible!"
Chuckling, he stroked his chin. He named the new method Tongmai Gong—the Meridian-Through Technique—signifying speed and efficiency.
Eager, he wondered:
Can I feed Tongmai Gong back into the Black Book, to be deduced and perfected again?
If a single refinement could create such a leap, what about twice? Thrice?
His heart pounding, Wang Chen re-entered the Black Book and tried.
Moments later, his face paled, and he let out a bitter laugh.
"Too naïve. My spiritual power is still far too weak. There's no way I can endure another refinement."
Shaking off the dizziness from overexertion, he smiled like a child with a new toy and began testing the mark with other skills.
Throughout the night, he consumed huge amounts of spiritual power, refining several minor skills. He came to fully understand the mark's function.
He also discovered that many of his soul skills had dismal potential.
Especially those bound to the soul ring system—their power was shackled by the rings themselves, leaving almost no room to grow.
But his techniques—like spear arts and close-combat moves—showed enormous improvement under the mark's perfection.
By dawn, Wang Chen had become a master of combat techniques, his skill rivaling even veteran Soul Masters with decades of experience.
Some abilities still required more spiritual power than he could afford, but he would refine them later.
Stretching, he greeted the morning sunlight with a bright mood.
The Black Book's second function had changed everything. He now stood at a higher starting point than ever before.
Only then did he remember the Soul Bone he had set aside.
He chuckled bitterly. Compared to the Black Book's newfound ability, a mere thousand-year Soul Bone was hardly worth a glance.
At minimum, only a hundred-thousand-year Soul Bone could catch his interest.
Then a thought struck him—why had the Black Book suddenly begun recovering faster?
Its pace before had been so slow, nearly imperceptible…