Chapter 12: Secrets in the Dark
Bhoumik awoke to the sensation of cool stone beneath his body, the world around him completely engulfed in darkness. He didn't know where he was or how long he had been unconscious, but the last memory he had was of Lu Qing's furious gaze and the chaotic battle in Shen Mu's tomb. He had grabbed the scroll, and the teleportation formation had taken him somewhere else entirely. Now, he lay on the cold ground of a strange place, his body aching from the sudden transport.
Slowly, he pushed himself up, his sharp eyes adjusting to the faint glimmer of light that flickered in the distance. His hand instinctively tightened around the scroll he had taken—the very object that had thrown the tomb into chaos. As he glanced at the scroll, a smirk, dark and sharp like the edge of a blade, crossed his lips. He had taken it under their noses.
Despite being surrounded by stronger cultivators, despite the chaos that had erupted, Bhoumik had what he came for. The thought made him feel a strange satisfaction, a sense of victory despite the odds. They underestimated me, he thought coldly. Now, I have the power they sought.
Bhoumik glanced around the dark chamber, scanning for any signs of danger before turning his attention to the scroll in his hand. His fingers unrolled it slowly, and as the parchment spread open, the faint light in the chamber shifted. The words on the scroll began to glow and lift off the page, floating into the air around him, each symbol radiant with mystical energy.
His breath caught slightly as he watched the text rearrange itself in the air, taking on a life of its own. This was no ordinary martial technique. As the words solidified before him, Bhoumik's sharp eyes absorbed their meaning: Divine Vortex Palm.
The name alone struck him with awe, but as he read further, the description of the technique left him stunned. The Divine Vortex Palm was unlike anything he had ever encountered. It wasn't just a simple palm strike. To use this technique, the cultivator needed to understand at least two elements and merge them. The combination would create a swirling vortex of energy that could be used for both offense and defense. The vortex would spin with violent, destructive force, capable of tearing through even the toughest defenses while also absorbing incoming attacks.
The most shocking part? A cultivator could merge up to five elements within the vortex, making it a technique of unimaginable power.
Bhoumik's mind raced as he took it all in. Five elements? He didn't even have a complete understanding of a single element yet, let alone two. And even if he did, the spiritual energy required to properly execute such a technique was far beyond his current level. He clenched his fists, feeling the gap between his current strength and the technique's requirements. I'm not strong enough. Not yet.
The smirk faded from his face as he realized that this was only half of the technique. There was more—a second part that likely unlocked the true potential of the Divine Vortex Palm. As powerful as the scroll in his hands was, it was incomplete.
With a sigh, Bhoumik carefully rolled the scroll back up and tucked it into his space ring. The time for mastering such a technique would come, but not today. He had a long way to go before he could even attempt to use it. For now, survival was his priority.
He rose to his feet, dusting off his robes as he scanned his surroundings. The chamber was vast, but eerily quiet, with nothing but the distant glow of light in the distance. Where am I? he thought, his mind working quickly to piece together what had happened. The teleportation formation had taken him here, wherever this was, but there had to be an exit.
Bhoumik's keen eyes caught sight of a faint light flickering far ahead. Without hesitation, he began moving toward it, his footsteps silent on the cold stone floor. The light grew brighter as he approached, and soon, he found himself passing through a narrow passageway that led to a completely different chamber.
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As Bhoumik stepped into the new chamber, his breath caught in his throat. The room was enormous, with towering stone pillars that stretched up to a ceiling so high it was lost in shadow. Intricate designs and carvings lined the walls, depicting ancient battles and powerful cultivators long forgotten by history. At the far end of the room, raised on a platform of stone, stood a massive tomb—likely the final resting place of Shen Mu.
But Bhoumik's eyes weren't drawn to the tomb itself. His gaze locked onto something else—a faint, glowing orb that hovered just beside the tomb, emanating a soft, ethereal light. And next to it, lying on a stone pedestal, was a scroll that looked identical to the one he had just taken.
Bhoumik's expression remained cold, his sharp eyes narrowing. The second part of the technique.
Just as he was about to move forward, something caught his attention—a presence, delicate but strong. His eyes flicked to the side, and there, standing near the tomb, was a young woman. She looked about sixteen years old, with a slender, elegant frame. Her face was partially hidden behind a veil, but her long dark brown hair cascaded down her back in soft waves. The aura she exuded was powerful—Spirit Realm, 7th Stage. Her robes were intricately embroidered, elegant and graceful, as if she had stepped out of a noble family.
For a brief moment, the girl seemed equally surprised by Bhoumik's sudden appearance. Her eyes, the only visible part of her face, widened slightly as she took in his appearance. Not because of his power—he was clearly far below her in cultivation—but because of his otherworldly beauty. Even at only thirteen years old, Bhoumik's sharp features, his cold, dark ocean eyes, and the graceful way he carried himself were mesmerizing.
But Bhoumik's expression didn't change. His face remained emotionless, his eyes cold and calculating. He moved forward, his gaze locked onto the scroll and orb near the tomb, as if the girl wasn't even there.
"Stop." The girl's voice rang out, firm and cold. She stepped forward, blocking his path. "You can't go near the tomb."
Bhoumik glanced at her briefly before returning his attention to the scroll. "Why not?"
The girl hesitated, then shook her head slightly. "I don't know, but I can sense that something is protecting it. You'll need a special key to unlock the path to the tomb."
Bhoumik remained silent for a moment, then spoke, his voice as cold as ice. "My name is Bhoumik Pal. What's yours?"
The girl straightened slightly, her eyes still locked on him. "Lin Ling," she replied. "And I wasn't kidding. You can't get close without the medallion piece."
Bhoumik's eyes flicked back to her, then to the medallion piece in her hand. It was a small, ornate fragment, glowing faintly with residual energy. Recognition flashed through his mind. He reached into his space ring and pulled out the medallion piece he had found in Green Hell Paradise. The two pieces were identical.
Lin Ling's eyes widened in surprise as she saw the medallion in his hand. "Where did you get that?"
"It doesn't matter," Bhoumik replied, his voice emotionless. "What matters is that now we can unlock the tomb."
Lin Ling's surprise quickly turned to a silent nod of agreement. Although she found his coldness strange, she couldn't deny the logic. Together, they approached the altar. The two medallion pieces glowed as they were brought closer together, and with a faint hum of energy, the pieces merged, forming a complete medallion. The energy radiating from the medallion flowed through the room, and the barrier protecting the tomb faded away.
With the path now clear, Bhoumik didn't waste any time. He moved swiftly toward the scroll, ignoring the tomb for now. Lin Ling watched him curiously but didn't speak. She had her eyes on the orb—clearly the key to Shen Mu's inheritance.
Bhoumik reached the scroll and unrolled it. As he expected, it was the second part of the Divine Vortex Palm, this one called Divine Vortex Finger. He quickly skimmed the contents, his sharp mind absorbing the information. The finger technique was even more refined, allowing for precise attacks that could pierce through an opponent's defenses, focusing the swirling vortex of elements into a single, devastating point.
With the scroll secured, Bhoumik turned his attention to Lin Ling, who had approached the orb. She placed her hand on it, and immediately, the inheritance process began. Her body floated into the air, surrounded by the glowing light of the orb as the ancient power of Shen Mu flowed into her.
Bhoumik watched in silence, his eyes briefly flickering with interest before he turned away. He wandered toward the tomb of Shen Mu, curiosity driving him forward. The stone coffin stood silently, its surface marked with ancient inscriptions. With a deep breath, Bhoumik reached forward and pushed the lid aside.