A week drifted by like morning mist.
Before the first light of dawn touched the horizon, Xuanyuan Zhen stood beneath the old tree behind his courtyard performing certain movements. Only the soft whisper of wind through leaves and the faint tremor of spiritual energy moving unseen through heaven and earth.
He inhaled as he always did every dawn.
The air trembled faintly as strands of heavenly purple Qi gathered toward him. It was thicker and more numerous than before. As his cultivation deepened, the purple Qi he attracted had grown denser, richer—each breath carrying a weight that pressed faintly against his lungs before sinking into his dantian.
Within him, golden holy Qi circulated in broad, luminous currents. It flowed through his meridians like molten sunlight, steady and dignified, while the heavenly purple Qi coiled around it like a rising tyrant unwilling to submit.
Two forces.
Different in nature.
Perfectly intertwined.
His purple-golden Qi sea churned quietly, vast and deep compared to when he first began cultivating. Yet as it rotated, absorbing and refining the energy he gathered, he sensed the familiar frustration creeping in.
It wasn't enough.
He had felt it during his fight with Xuanyuan Bing—that fleeting edge, that razor-thin boundary where battle intent almost manifested. For a heartbeat, his fist had carried more than strength. It had carried will.
Tyrannical intent had brushed against his consciousness like a distant thunderclap.
But it slipped away.
He was missing something.
Pressure. Crisis. A true confrontation that forced his will to sharpen beyond instinct.
His eyes opened slowly.
And then he noticed her.
Not far from him, beneath the pale wash of dawn, Yin Mei was cultivating.
She knelt upon the grass, back straight, black hair cascading down her shoulders like flowing ink. Mist curled faintly around her figure as she inhaled and exhaled in slow, measured cycles.
Fourth stage of Body Tempering.
For a servant with no access to the clan's cultivation methods, no guidance from elders, no allocated spirit stones—her progress was astonishing.
The faint chill that lingered around her seemed to match her temperament.
Distant.
Quiet.
Untouched.
In the soft light, her profile appeared almost ethereal—like a goddess carved from ice and moonlight. The gentle rise and fall of her breathing subtly traced the natural curves of her figure—
Xuanyuan Zhen blinked once.
Then cleared his mind sharply.
Unnecessary thoughts.
He rose without a sound, careful not to disturb her cultivation.
If he wished to close the gap before the martial exchange, quiet meditation alone would not suffice.
He needed resources.
And perhaps—
Fortune.
---
The forest beyond the Xuanyuan clan stretched endlessly, ancient trees towering like silent guardians of forgotten eras. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the canopy in scattered beams, illuminating drifting motes of dust and pollen.
Xuanyuan Zhen moved swiftly between trunks and undergrowth, steps light, aura suppressed.
The forest was a crucible.
Beasts hunted.
Beasts died.
And occasionally, heaven scattered treasures where blood was spilled.
A sudden roar split the air.
Not the cry of an ordinary beast.
The sound carried weight.
Authority.
Power.
Xuanyuan Zhen halted mid-step, senses sharpening.
The ground trembled faintly beneath his feet.
He advanced cautiously toward the disturbance, keeping his presence hidden.
Through broken branches and torn foliage, he saw them.
A flood python coiled across the clearing, its body thick as a stone pillar. Dark blue scales shimmered with a faint watery sheen, each one hard as forged iron. Its eyes were cold and merciless, its massive form crushing the earth beneath it.
Opposite it stood a red flame tiger.
Flames danced along its striped fur, flickering with volatile intensity. Each exhale released sparks that scorched the ground. Its claws glowed crimson, leaving burning gashes wherever they struck.
Rank 2 beasts.
Creatures equivalent to Foundation Establishment cultivators.
The clearing was already devastated—trees shattered, soil gouged, stones melted or crushed.
The tiger lunged first, claws ripping into scaled flesh. The python retaliated, its colossal tail sweeping sideways with explosive force, uprooting a tree and smashing it into splinters.
Blood splattered across the earth.
Flames and water-based Qi collided violently, sending steam hissing into the air.
Xuanyuan Zhen did not intervene.
He observed.
And then—
He saw it.
Behind the chaos, near a jagged rock formation, a spirit plant swayed faintly.
It stood no higher than his waist, leaves dark green and veined with faint golden lines. Hanging from its branches were ten fruits—each the size of a small fist, crimson at their base but fading into molten gold at their tips.
Spiritual energy pulsed from them in steady waves.
Even from where he stood, he could feel the purity.
Dense.
Refined.
Potent enough to allow a Foundation Establishment cultivator to advance further.
For a Qi Condensation cultivator—
It would be overwhelming.
For most.
But Xuanyuan Zhen's Qi sea was not ordinary. It demanded greater and purer energy to evolve.
His gaze sharpened.
He waited.
The battle intensified.
The tiger sank its fangs into the python's neck, flames surging wildly as it tried to burn through scaled defense. The python coiled violently, crushing the tiger's ribs with a sickening crack.
Minutes stretched.
Roars weakened.
Movements slowed.
Scales split open.
Flames flickered erratically.
Both beasts were reaching their limit.
Xuanyuan Zhen's breathing grew faint, controlled.
Patience.
The tiger staggered, one foreleg collapsing beneath it. The python attempted to tighten its coil once more—but its massive body trembled violently, strength nearly spent.
Now.
He moved.
Heavenly purple Qi surged through his legs, compressing like a coiled spring before releasing in explosive speed. Golden holy Qi coated his body in a faint radiant sheen as he shot forward like a streak of violet-gold lightning.
In one fluid motion, he reached the spirit plant.
His hand swept across the branches.
Ten fruits vanished into his storage pouch.
The air shifted.
The python's head snapped toward him.
The tiger's eyes flared with fury.
They roared simultaneously.
But Xuanyuan Zhen was already gone.
He did not hesitate.
He did not look back.
He vanished into the forest shadows, weaving between trees with impossible swiftness.
Behind him, enraged roars echoed through the woodland.
Too late.
By the time the beasts realized what had been taken—
The thief was nothing more than a fading presence in the distance.
Xuanyuan Zhen slowed only when he was miles away, heart steady, expression calm.
At his waist, the pouch pulsed faintly with contained spiritual power.
A small smile touched his lips.
He had sought resources.
The forest had answered.
Now—
It was time to devour them.