Chapter 72: Supreme Mastery

"Is there really such a thing? How come I’ve never heard of it before?" Master Tonghu was a bit surprised.

If such a poem existed, it would surely be widely circulated, yet this was the first time he’d ever heard of it.

How strange.

Yin Seventeen smiled slightly and said, "Perhaps it's because the poet was indifferent to fame and fortune, and didn't wish to become famous."

"I only came across this poem by chance a few days ago, while wandering around."

Indeed, this poem was written about Mount Lu’s waterfall, but not this Mount Lu.

Unfortunately, the one who wrote this poem was not as indifferent to fame as he claimed, but instead was very passionate about pursuing fame and profit.

What’s more ironic is that, after a lifetime of pursuing, he never achieved what he wanted.

The so-called ‘poet’ was nothing more than an identity he fashioned for himself in order to seek renown and fortune.

"Indifferent to fame and wealth, is it? Perhaps that really is the case," Tonghu nodded in understanding.

Some wise hermits are just like that—no matter how talented, they keep their brilliance hidden from the world.

He then turned his gaze to the waterfall and said seriously, "Your control over your microcosmic power has reached a very high level."

"It seems there’s nothing left for this old man to teach you!"

He smiled wryly as he finished.

On the other side, Ruolan muttered with some dissatisfaction, "Isn’t it just writing a few words on the waterfall? What’s so difficult about that?"

Both Zilong and Chunli were equally puzzled, unable to see what was so extraordinary.

Hearing this, Tonghu burst out laughing and pointed at the mighty waterfall, "This waterfall of Mount Lu has a vertical drop of nearly a thousand meters and spans dozens of meters wide."

"With such a massive volume of water, to bring it to a standstill requires an immense amount of power just to counter its downward force."

"You and Zilong failed to reverse the waterfall because, after offsetting the waterfall’s weight, you ran out of strength and couldn’t force the water to flow upward."

Ruolan was still unconvinced. "But what he did doesn’t seem so much greater than what we did."

Tonghu shook his head, laughing. "What he accomplished is far more impressive than making the waterfall flow in reverse!"

"Zilong, let me ask you: What is the prerequisite for making the waterfall flow backward?"

As he spoke, the old man turned his gaze to his young disciple.

Understanding that his teacher was prompting him, Zilong pondered for a moment before replying, "To reverse the waterfall, one must completely cancel out its downward force, rendering the flowing waterfall motionless."

"Once that’s achieved, we can then apply an upward force, causing the waterfall to surge in reverse."

"Quite right!" Tonghu nodded and smiled. "If the strength you exert on the waterfall isn’t enough to counteract its weight, it will continue to flow downward, just at a slower rate."

"But if your power exceeds what’s needed to balance its fall, the excess will push the waterfall upward, causing it to flow in reverse."

"As for how fast the waterfall reverses, that depends on how much strength you have left over."

"In the end, making the waterfall flow backward is simply a test of your raw power—the stronger you are, the greater the force, and there’s no technique involved."

Hearing this, Zilong seemed to understand. Gazing at the now-still waterfall, he suddenly realized, "If you’re a little short on strength, the waterfall flows downward; if you have a little more, it flows upward."

"But now, the entire waterfall is motionless, and not even the characters written upon it are distorted by gravity."

"This means that Senior Yin Seventeen’s power has precisely balanced the force of the waterfall—no more, no less."

To reverse the waterfall, one only needs to blindly add more force. But to bring it to a perfect standstill requires precise and meticulous control over one’s output.

A little too much is excessive; a little too little is insufficient.

This mastery over strength had already surpassed their realm.

"That’s not all," Tonghu shook his head gently and continued, "The beam of light he used to engrave words upon the waterfall was an extremely sharp energy."

"It could split gold and jade, peerlessly sharp, and could easily carve marks into the rock behind the waterfall."

"Yet, while writing, he merged his surplus microcosmic power into the waterfall itself, perfectly counterbalancing gravity—so that not a trace was left on the rock behind."

"Such control is even more astonishing than simply halting the waterfall’s flow!"

To act at will, as though wielding one’s own arm, the young Crater Bearer’s mastery had already reached the limits of the sixth sense. All he lacked was time and further development of the microcosm to reach the sixth sense’s pinnacle.

At these words, Zilong and his companions immediately sent their perception through the waterfall to check the rock behind.

Just as Tonghu had said, the rock face behind was completely unscarred—not a single mark to be found.

"Incredible!" Chunli exclaimed, covering her mouth in astonishment.

As the weakest among them, she naturally revered her grandfather; whatever he said must be right.

Ruolan pursed her lips and said nothing more.

In the Temple of the Crocodile God, she had witnessed sword energy sharp enough to slice through anything.

To carve words yet leave the rock untouched behind—this level of control was indeed far above what they could achieve.

Thunder rumbled.

It seemed that the microcosmic power Yin Seventeen had poured into the waterfall was finally exhausted, and the great cascade returned to its original state, roaring down the cliff with all its might.

Tonghu watched as Yin Seventeen returned to the cliff edge and said gently, "You’ve mastered the sixth sense well, and there’s nothing more for me to teach you."

"With steady accumulation, you’ll reach the very limit of the sixth sense."

Yin Seventeen bowed slightly. "You flatter me, Master Tonghu!"

"Compared to you, I still have a long way to go and need your guidance yet."

The old man sighed. "As for the sixth sense, truly, there’s little left for me to teach you. Perhaps it’s time to speak of the seventh sense."

"You two should listen carefully as well—you may find it useful in the future."

As he spoke, he glanced meaningfully at Zilong and Ruolan, while his granddaughter Chunli was entirely ignored.

He knew well that Chunli was not one for cultivation, nor did she care for it, and forcing her would be pointless.

"Understood," Zilong and Ruolan answered with solemn faces.

The four of them sat cross-legged before the old man.

Tonghu spoke unhurriedly: "The sixth sense is the key that opens the door to the extraordinary."

"Once a person has mastered the sixth sense, they can perceive and use the microcosm, stepping into the domain of the extraordinary, becoming a being beyond mortals."

"But a key is merely a key; it is far from enough to unleash the full power of the microcosm."

"To truly wield the microcosm, one must rely on the ‘Seventh Sense—Manas Consciousness.’ This is the realm attained by Gold Saints."

"It is also the fundamental reason why Gold Saints dare to raise their fists against gods and challenge evil deities!"

Zilong listened in awe—a company of Saints daring to challenge evil gods; what grandeur and courage that must require.

But Yin Seventeen heard something different.

He frowned slightly, asking with suspicion, "Master Tonghu, can the power of the seventh sense truly contend with the gods?"

He distinctly remembered that beyond the seventh sense, there existed the eighth and ninth senses.

If the seventh sense was already sufficient to rival the gods, then what, he wondered, was the purpose of the eighth and ninth senses?