Marvel's Master of Heavenly Magic

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*****

"Spirit Summoning?"

George, who had shown little interest until now, suddenly perked up.

Spirit Summoning wasn't supposed to be the Wang family's technique—that was famously the Feng clan's specialty. So why did the Wang family know it? Weren't they renowned for their Spirit-Painting Technique?

He had assumed Wang Bing would attempt a comeback using the latter, but to his surprise, the shout had invoked Spirit Summoning.

Then, to everyone's shock, black qi burst forth from Wang Bing's body. He reached toward his own chest and pulled out a soul form from within himself.

"What?! How does he know Spirit Summoning?!"

George's ears twitched. From the direction of the audience, he heard Feng Xingtong exclaim in disbelief—his expression filled with shock. George couldn't help but beam.

"Talk about a gift falling into my lap. No need to search high and low after all."

Feng Xingtong was a decent guy, and George didn't feel right about digging through his memories. But Wang Bing? That was another story entirely.

Forget reading his mind—George wouldn't even blink if he had to kill him on the spot.

He had never shown mercy to enemies.

"Hahaha! Scared, are you? Feng clan's Spirit Summoning is nothing but an inferior version. What the Wang family possesses is the complete technique!"

Hearing the murmurs of the audience and seeing George's expression shift, Wang Bing's vanity was immensely satisfied—this was the moment he had been craving.

"Now let me show you the true form of Spirit Summoning—Spirit Consumption Technique!"

Unlike Feng Xingtong's version, where the spirit possessed the user to assist in combat, Wang Bing casually shoved the soul he'd extracted into his mouth and devoured it piece by piece.

As the spirit entered his body, the qi within him surged dramatically.

"Now let this rogue cultivator witness what true power really is!"

Seizing the moment while the spiritual energy still flooded his system, his speed and strength now vastly enhanced, Wang Bing charged once more toward George.

At this point, his strength was on a completely different level from before.

"Thunderblast!"

Seeing him approach, George cast the explosive spell again.

However, this time, despite the spell being just as powerful as before, it merely pushed Wang Bing back a few steps—no visible damage was dealt.

"Arrogant before, weren't you? Now kneel!"

With a vicious expression, Wang Bing shifted his footwork, maneuvered behind George, and aimed a brutal kick at the back of his knees—clearly trying to force him to kneel in submission.

"If I enhance Thunderblast further, it'll start to seem unnatural..."

George retracted his wand. In an instant, terrifying lightning surged through his body.

The strength of his explosive spells had already surpassed that of an average adult wizard. If he made them even stronger, he'd be operating at the level of an Auror—something no sixth-year student should be capable of.

But he'd already anticipated this problem.

His goal in participating in the Luo Tian Dajiao was the Tongtian Talisman, which meant facing top-tier talents under thirty from across the country.

If a 17-year-old, still in his sixth year at wizarding school, cast spells as strong as someone like Dumbledore, it would be too suspicious.

So he'd come up with a method that was both believable and effective.

"Twenty Billion Volts!"

A surge of violent electricity erupted from George's body, instantly dispersing Wang Bing's black defensive qi and channeling directly into his body through the attacking leg.

"Aaaaagh!!!"

Electrocuted by the twenty-billion-volt blast, Wang Bing screamed in agony.

"Sorry, forgot to mention—I didn't just study magic. I'm also an innate stranger."

Since he couldn't use postnatal magic too ostentatiously, he gave himself the identity of an innate ability user—and used it to dominate the competition.

Innate strangers had natural qi flows that allowed for unique powers. But because their internal structure was different, it was hard for them to learn traditional postnatal techniques.

Of course, there were exceptions. With enough talent, one could develop innate powers and study external cultivation techniques simultaneously.

So while George's magic was considered "normal," his innate ability could be exceptional—something people could believe.

"He can control lightning innately?"

The audience erupted in astonishment the moment they heard George's words.

This battle had turned out to be wildly entertaining—not only had they discovered that the Wang family possessed a stronger version of Spirit Summoning than the Feng clan, they also saw an innate stranger who could wield lightning.

After all, among Daoist spells, thunder techniques were the most destructive—much stronger than most elemental arts.

For typical cultivators, using thunder spells required drawing talismans or lengthy preparations—very inconvenient.

Longhu Mountain's strength wasn't just the Golden Light Spell, but the fact that their disciples could wield thunder spells directly in battle.

And now this rogue cultivator, Jin Baobao, had awakened innate thunder powers. He could naturally summon lightning from birth.

How lucky was that?!

Lightning arts countered sorcery more effectively than anything. Even among the Eight Great Techniques, Spirit Summoning was especially vulnerable to lightning.

"If you're weak, no technique will save you. Even if you had the Tongtian Talisman, you'd still be trash. Like now—you learned Spirit Summoning, but aren't you still being crushed under my foot like a dog?"

With a slap, George smashed Wang Bing to the ground and stepped on his back, pinning him down. Though it looked like a public humiliation, in truth, he was already infiltrating Wang Bing's mind, extracting the full data on Spirit Summoning.

Even someone like Voldemort, a major player by domestic standards, would be paralyzed by twenty billion volts of electricity—let alone Wang Bing.

Even though George had stopped shocking him after pinning him down, the damage had already left Wang Bing too broken to resist, much less defend his mind from intrusion.

Of course, George made sure Wang Bing stayed conscious. Losing consciousness would be counted as forfeiting the match.

"I'll never forgive you—never!"

"How dare you, brat! Enough!"

Just then, a furious voice rang out. It was Wang Ai, who had been watching from the audience. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and leapt from the spectator stand.

"Wang Lao, the match isn't over—"

The referee immediately stepped in to block him.

According to the rules, the match was only over when one side either admitted defeat or lost consciousness.

"Out of my way!"

But Wang Ai, overwhelmed with rage over his grandson's suffering, unleashed a burst of dark qi and blasted the referee aside.

Had Wang Bing simply lost a normal match, Wang Ai might have held back—out of respect for Zhang Zhiwei and Longhu Mountain.

But now, his grandson wasn't just defeated—he was humiliated. And by a mere rogue cultivator?

No way could he endure that.

At worst, he'd just apologize to Zhang Zhiwei later. And knowing Zhang's personality, he'd likely let it slide for the greater good.

"Fascinating… I never imagined the Eight Great Techniques had such complex origins. How truly… interesting."

At that moment, George had fully extracted the complete version of Spirit Summoning from Wang Bing's memory—and also uncovered many hidden truths about the Eight Great Techniques.

(End of Chapter)