Forging the Body, Tempering the Soul
Azure Cloud City was quiet under the cold, sharp light of a low-hanging moon.
In the secluded forest courtyard of the Lin Clan, faint golden light pulsed through the mist, painting the trees with ethereal halos.
Lin Xian sat cross-legged upon a moss-covered boulder, surrounded by a ring of spirit stones. Each one shimmered, releasing gentle threads of essence that wove into the air like drifting silk.
His white hair swayed though no breeze stirred, his breath long and steady—
every inhalation drew the world inward, every exhalation sent ripples through the still night.
> "Power… I still need more," he whispered, eyes half-closed. "This is far from enough."
---
Heaven Slaughter Nirvana Scripture — First Verse
Within his body, the scripture flowed like twin rivers—one of destruction, one of rebirth. Qi surged through his meridians, burning impurities, then reforging them anew.
The last of the spirit stone essence entered his dantian—
and suddenly, molten fire tore through his veins.
Lin Xian's jaw tightened; pain crashed over him like a tidal wave.
His pulse thundered, bones creaking as if crushed by invisible pressure.
Crack—
A crystalline note echoed from deep within. His meridians shimmered; light spilled faintly from beneath his skin.
> "So this… is the brink of the Peak Mortal Vein Realm," he breathed, sweat glistening along his brow.
"The Nirvana Scripture truly defies heaven. From early stage to peak mid in such a short time…"
He exhaled slowly. The air turned hazy—each breath laced with golden mist.
Though exhaustion weighed upon him, determination sharpened his gaze like a blade drawn from its sheath.
> "One more step… and I'll break through completely. I just need more resources."
The final spirit stone in his palm crumbled to dust.
---
Little Guardian
"Meow~"
A soft cry cut through the night.
Xiao Jin leapt onto his knee, tail flicking. Its golden fur gleamed under the moonlight, eyes wide with mischief.
Lin Xian smiled faintly.
> "You can feel it too, can't you? Your master's blood is boiling again."
The kitten puffed its chest, letting out a proud, chirping mewl as if claiming credit for his progress.
> "Oh? So you think you helped?" Lin Xian teased.
"Alright, alright… maybe a little. But next time, stop stealing my spirit fruits."
The kitten froze, then looked away guiltily. Its tiny paw reached up and patted his chin—an innocent bribe.
Lin Xian chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing.
> "Little glutton… I'll get you spirit fruits soon. But right now, your master is broke."
"Meow!"
A sharp, offended reply—as if Xiao Jin couldn't believe its mighty master had been defeated by mere finances.
---
The Alchemist's Path
On the nearby stone table lay bundles of herbs and crystals—parting gifts from Old Man Mo. Lin Xian picked up a stalk of Silverleaf Ginseng, its faint fragrance cooling his mind.
> "I can already refine a Body-Tempering Pill," he murmured. "Once my body catches up to my qi, the next bottleneck will break."
He extended his hand. An azure flame bloomed from his palm—serene, steady, and silent.
> "Heart of Silent Flame Codex… It's been a long time."
The flickering light reflected in his eyes, stirring echoes of memory.
---
Memory of the Flame Monarch
Long ago, there was a man whose flames could melt mountains and whose pills could heal gods — Yan Zhen, the Flame Monarch of Creation.
When Lin Xian first met him, it was not as a disciple, but as a shadow — an assassin sent to retrieve a stolen divine scripture.
The moment Lin Xian appeared in the Monarch's alchemy chamber, killing intent thick in the air, the old man did not flinch. Instead, he smiled.
> "Young killer," Yan Zhen had said with calm eyes, "your killing aura burns brighter than any fire I've seen. Tell me… have you ever thought of healing instead of destroying?"
Those words had lingered like an ember within Lin Xian's heart.
Fate wove them together in unexpected ways.
In the years that followed, the two formed a strange companionship — the Monarch refining pills for Lin Xian's missions, and Lin Xian venturing through forbidden lands to gather herbs and flames no mortal dared touch.
He never called Yan Zhen "master."
But in truth, he learned more from that old man's silence and smiles than from a thousand lectures.
When the Heavenly Wars descended, Yan Zhen stood against the sky's wrath, his flames painting the heavens gold.
When the firestorm faded, the Monarch was gone — only ashes and a single scroll remained.
The Heart of Silent Flame Codex.
---
The Genius Who Surpassed the Monarch
After Yan Zhen's death, Lin Xian secluded himself for decades in a shattered realm, living only by the dim light of his own flames.
He studied the Codex with unwavering focus — dissecting every verse, every principle, every breath of the Monarch's legacy.
And then… he went further.
What the Monarch had refined through experience, Lin Xian dismantled with logic and rebuilt with brilliance.
Where others saw the limit of flame, he saw new forms — Flame of Stillness, Inverse Refining, Heart-Thread Condensation, techniques born from his own comprehension.
He discovered that the true essence of alchemy was not transformation — but balance between life and death, the same duality that defined his Nirvana Scripture.
Years later, the wandering alchemists would speak of a nameless figure who could refine immortal-grade pills in silence, whose flames made no sound and left no smoke.
They called him the Silent Flame Sovereign, never realizing that he had once been Lin Xian — the assassin who learned to heal.
---
> "Flames can destroy," Yan Zhen had said before his death.
"But true mastery is when your fire creates what Heaven cannot."
Now, Lin Xian finally understood.
His fire no longer burned only to kill — it burned to shape destiny itself.
---
The Body-Tempering Pill
Back in the present, Lin Xian's flame roared quietly to life.
Dozens of herbs rose from the table, encircling him like drifting stars. Under precise control, each herb liquefied mid-air, merging into glowing droplets.
The air vibrated—the scent of raw vitality thick and intoxicating.
Xiao Jin sneezed adorably, swiping at the glowing particles with a paw, nearly tipping over a vial.
> "Hey—don't touch that!" Lin Xian scolded, half-laughing. "Do you want to explode?"
The kitten froze, tail puffing up like a tiny brush, then meowed defiantly and sat atop his head, glaring at the flame as if daring it to misbehave.
Lin Xian shook his head in amusement.
> "Fine, you can watch. But quietly."
With a low hum, the flame brightened from azure to white-gold. The mixture condensed into a single radiant bead—the Body-Tempering Pill.
It pulsed like a miniature sun, casting ripples through the courtyard.
> "Not bad for mortal-grade materials," he muttered.
He caught the pill between his fingers and swallowed it whole.
---
Trial by Fire
The moment it entered his stomach, agony exploded.
A searing wave of heat surged outward, burning every meridian and bone. His heart hammered like thunder. The Nirvana Scripture activated instinctively, devouring the violent energy—but the clash between destruction and rebirth was brutal.
His skin flushed red, steam rising in waves. Muscles tore and mended, blood boiled, spirit energy raging like a storm trying to tear him apart from within.
Xiao Jin yowled anxiously, circling him, golden light flickering from its fur. It pressed its tiny forehead against his knee, mewing softly—as if sharing a fragment of its own energy.
Somewhere in the pain, Lin Xian's mind steadied.
> "Pain refines the body… suffering tempers the soul."
He forced his breathing to match the scripture's rhythm. Fire roared through his core, yet in that fire—he found calm.
Slowly, the golden glow stabilized. His blood turned luminous; his heartbeat echoed like a forge hammer striking immortal steel.
Then—silence.
The flame dimmed. The night breeze returned, carrying the faint scent of spiritual herbs and condensed vitality
---
Rebirth
When Lin Xian opened his eyes, faint golden threads glimmered within them — steady, calm, and deep.
His skin shimmered faintly under the pale moonlight, smooth yet filled with quiet strength. Every breath carried a pulse of power, flowing through his blood like fire and thunder merged as one.
He lifted his hand slowly, flexing his fingers. The faint sound of cracking bones echoed — not from pain, but from the surging vitality rebuilding him from within.
A ripple of force spread across his arm, subtle yet terrifying, making the air tremble slightly around him.
> "Mid-Peak Mortal Vein… and a tempered body," he murmured, voice low but calm "If I use everything, I can stand against early Spirit Core cultivators."
He looked down at his hands, clenching them into fists. The veins beneath his skin glowed faintly gold.
> "My body's been reforged through pain and flame… This is no longer a mortal shell."
To test his limit, he gathered qi into his palm and struck the nearby stone wall.
The rock exploded outward like sand before a storm, cracks webbing across the ground in all directions. Yet his hand — untouched. Not a single scratch.
A faint smile touched his lips.
> "A cultivator of the same stage could strike me head-on now… and fail to even bruise me."
He tightened his fist again, eyes narrowing.
> "Even those one realm higher — they could wound me, but they won't kill me."
Golden light pulsed once through his body before fading back into calm. The night wind brushed his hair as his heartbeat steadied — slow, powerful, and resolute.
> "This body," he whispered, looking toward the distant horizon, "is no longer bound by weakness."
"From this night onward… every scar will become my legacy."
A tiny paw tapped his cheek.
"Meow."
Xiao Jin looked up proudly, tail flicking like a banner.
Lin Xian smiled.
> "Yes, yes, you helped too. Happy?"
The kitten curled against his chest, purring loudly, its warmth seeping into his skin.
He gazed at the horizon—dawn's first light spilling through the trees.
> "Next… I'll need more resources. Spirit stones, herbs, gold. Pills alone won't sustain the path ahead."
"If I want power… I'll take it from those who hoard it."
He stood, cloak brushing the dew-soaked grass, Xiao Jin perched regally on his shoulder.
As the sun rose, painting the forest in gold, his quiet voice carried through the morning wind.
> "This is only the beginning."