Hun Yao opened his eyes—the vast blue sky stretched endlessly above him.
He held his throbbing head.
"What… happened?"
His gaze swept around him, and shock seized his chest.
"W-what is this?"
He staggered to his feet; his body felt lighter—stronger.
"Wasn't I… about to die by that ax-wielding man? Then why are they all dead instead?" he muttered, his eyes falling upon a jade cup artifact lying on the ground.
He picked it up, feeling a faint warmth pulse in his palm.
"Did this artifact… save me? But how could that be? It never did anything like this before."
Hun Yao stepped closer to the corpses of the hunters scattered lifelessly around him.
"They must have carried plenty of treasures," he thought, a thin smirk forming on his lips.
He began rifling through the bodies, his hands swift and practiced as he collected storage pouches and valuables.
"Wow… they had a fortune in here—these pouches are full of treasures, and even this sword looks good."
While he continued looting, something caught his eye—a small pill hidden beneath a broken pouch. He picked it up. The pill emitted a faint, glowing light.
"What kind of pill is this? Is it edible? Hmm… I'll just try it."
Without hesitation, Hun Yao swallowed the pill.
"Arghh!"
Instantly, waves of burning heat consumed his body, as though his chest had been crushed and thrown into the fires of hell. Blood burst from his mouth, his eyes flaring like molten embers. Every muscle in his body tensed to the point of tearing, his breath ragged and shallow. He could not move.
"Is this… poison?" he thought, panic rising in his chest.
Yet deep within, his blood surged wildly—racing like a flooded river. His cells began to change, pulsing with a strange new energy. With the last of his will, he forced himself into a meditative pose, gathering all his focus.
His meridians screamed, pain blazing through every vein from his dantian to his fingertips. The agony intensified—reaching its peak.
BOOM!
A violent burst of Qi erupted from his body, scattering dust and pebbles. Wind swirled chaotically, forming a vortex around him. Stones cracked and shattered as his energy surged outward.
Inside his dantian, his core of energy spun at a furious speed… and then—stopped.
Hun Yao opened his eyes.
The aura surrounding him had transformed.
He had broken through to a higher realm.
"The pain… it's gone," he murmured in disbelief and relief.
He stared at his hands, feeling the overwhelming flow of Qi coursing through them.
"What is this? Did I just… break through to the Awakened Veins Realm?"
A wide grin spread across his face, joy surging within him.
"With this… I'm no longer weak."
He stood, grabbed his newly found sword gleaming in the sunlight, and continued his journey—his heart alight with newfound hope and strength.
---
A few days later, Hun Yao arrived at the Xiao Kingdom.
His eyes widened in awe.
Before him loomed a colossal wall—not merely a structure of stone, but a symbol of might and grandeur.
The wall soared a hundred zhang high, stretching endlessly across the horizon like an ancient stone dragon coiled through the hills.
Each massive block was infused with ancient spiritual formations, carved with glowing sigils that shimmered faintly under moonlight, radiating divine mystery.
By day, the sunlight refracted off its surface in golden brilliance, as though it were draped in a celestial veil.
Watchtowers rose every three li, tall as spears of heaven, each crowned with fluttering banners of the realm—bearing the emblem of a twin-headed phoenix, embroidered with spirit silk that gleamed under the sun.
Beneath the wall, a wide moat flowed with spiritual water, glowing in hues of turquoise and jade. No fish swam within—for that sacred water burned away mortal flesh.
Guardians in emerald armor stood tall, gripping jade-inlaid spirit spears. They were no ordinary soldiers—they were cultivator-warriors, each at least at the fourth level of the Spirit Stone Realm.
Their faces showed no fatigue—only unyielding vigilance.
That wall was more than protection.
It was honor incarnate—the boundary dividing recognized nations from the lawless wilds beyond, where demonic beasts and rogue cultivators prowled.
And at its center stood the Eastern Heaven Gate, the main entrance to the Xiao Kingdom.
Fifty zhang tall, adorned with carvings of dragons and garudas so lifelike they seemed ready to soar into the clouds.
When opened, the gate's roar echoed like thunder across the plains.
Only during the Festival of the Solar Spirit was it opened fully—to welcome cultivators, merchants, and pilgrims alike.
Hun Yao passed through the gates, eyes darting in every direction, taking in the kingdom's magnificence.
The Xiao Kingdom—a glorious sixth-tier nation.
Beyond the walls lay an intricate city woven with ancient formations.
Houses of spirit wood and jade stone lined the streets, their curved roofs adorned with silk tassels and spirit chimes that sang softly in the breeze.
Shops displayed rare cultivation pills, talismans, and sealed spiritual weapons behind enchanted glass.
The air was rich with the scent of incense, molten metal, and alchemical herbs—a fragrance both divine and dangerous.
Wooden spirit puppets guarded some stalls, moving on their own, adding to the city's mystical aura.
The citizens were cultivators of all kinds—some clad in radiant robes pulsing with power, others plain and humble but with deep, unfathomable presence.
Children played with tame spirit birds, while elders meditated serenely under jade pavilions.
Floating lanterns lit the streets without flame, casting a warm, ethereal glow.
At the city's heart stood a colossal statue of the nation's progenitor—its sapphire eyes watching over all, silent and eternal.
Hun Yao searched for an inn while munching on some snacks.
As he paid a vendor, the man leaned closer, eyes darting nervously around.
"Hey, sir… are you new here?" he whispered.
Hun Yao nodded, a bit puzzled by the man's tone.
The vendor leaned even closer, lowering his voice.
"You should be careful, sir. These past few months… many newcomers have died—horribly."
Hun Yao froze.
"Impossible!" he glanced around, his mind racing.
"How could a kingdom this grand, guarded by cultivators so strong, have such killings?"
Rain began to fall, cool drops splashing against the cobblestones.
Hun Yao hurried toward the nearest inn.
He pushed open a heavy wooden door—its creak echoed alongside a flash of lightning outside.
Inside stood a woman behind the counter.
She wore a mask that concealed her entire face—except for her eyes, which stared calmly at Hun Yao.
"Welcome to the Xia Ni Inn," she greeted softly. "How may I assist you?"
"I'd like a room. How much for one night?"
"The lowest tier costs one hundred silver, the finest suite—five gold coins," she replied with polite warmth.
Hun Yao's gaze sharpened. Something felt… off.
Still, he said, "I'll take the best room."
"Good thing I took those hunters' treasures," he thought. "I can stay here for months if I wish… though I doubt I'll sleep peacefully."
Behind the mask, the woman's lips curled into a thin smile—one that never reached her eyes.
Thunder cracked outside.
As she turned her back, for a split second, her eyes glowed crimson—radiating a wicked gleam.
But Hun Yao didn't see it.