Han Li stood frozen, the old man's words echoing inside his mind like distant thunder.
"Your master… wants to kill you and extract your spirit root."
He had always harbored faint suspicions about his master—small inconsistencies, strange glances, unexplained behavior—but never… never had he imagined something so sinister. His heartbeat quickened, his breath tightening as if invisible hands were gripping his throat.
Han Li swallowed hard, forcing his trembling voice steady.
"Senior… forgive my ignorance, but… what exactly is a spirit root? And why would my master want mine?" His tone was respectful, yet beneath it lay fear—raw and silent.
The elderly man chuckled—a cold, amused laugh that seemed to peel away the last of Han Li's innocence.
"You truly do not know? Then how have you practiced cultivation all this time?" His eyes narrowed with disbelief. "Without understanding your spirit root, how could you choose techniques, paths… or even understand your own potential?"
Han Li's brows furrowed; shame and confusion flickered across his face.
The old man sighed—not pitying, but almost disappointed.
"Your master is no immortal. He is merely a mortal grasping desperately at power beyond his reach. And you…" His gaze sharpened. "You possess a spirit root—something he lacks. To him, your life is a price worth paying."
Han Li felt the world tilt. Betrayal—deep and poisonous—spread through his chest.
So the trust he had given… the loyalty, the years of training—
All of it had been nothing but a stepping stone toward his own death.
His fists clenched.
For the first time, a cold resolve flickered behind his eyes.
Han Li took a slow breath, trying to steady the fear twisting inside him.
"Senior," he finally said, forcing respect into his trembling voice, "I… I've been cultivating the Immortal Mantra. Master never taught me martial arts, only that mantra. He always told me to focus on reaching Tier Five as quickly as possible. He treated me kindly—taught me medicine, taught me to read and write. I never imagined…"
His chest tightened.
"…that he wanted me dead."
The old man snorted sharply.
"You foolish brat." His tone wasn't cruel—only blunt, like someone tired of watching ignorance destroy potential. "A spirit root can only be extracted once it matures. Before Tier Five, it is incomplete—worthless. Of course he was patient with you. Of course he pretended to care."
Han Li lowered his head, shame and disbelief warring inside him.
The elder extended a hand. "Come. Let me see your spirit root."
Han Li obeyed.
The moment the old man's fingers wrapped around his wrist, his expression changed. His eyes widened—shock, disbelief, then something close to awe.
"This—" he breathed. "A Celestial Spirit Root."
His voice trembled. "Give me your other hand."
Han Li did.
"Yes… yes. No mistake. A Celestial Spirit Root—and… wait." The elder's eyes narrowed further, as though seeing into Han Li's very soul.
"…You possess a Profound Heavenly Physique as well."
Han Li felt the world tilt again.
"With a Celestial Spirit Root alone," the elder continued slowly, "your cultivation speed would be five times faster than a normal cultivator. But with that physique combined… your speed becomes tenfold."
Silence stretched.
Han Li finally whispered, barely audible, "Senior… then… what techniques can someone like me cultivate?"
The old man let out a frustrated sigh.
"With that root, you can cultivate anything. Any technique, any art, any path. There are no limitations for you." His gaze sharpened. "But I will not waste such talent. I'll give you two Celestial-level arts—techniques you will never find in this realm, or even most immortal realms."
He raised two fingers.
"First, the Celestial Body Refinement Art—a lifetime cultivation. Offense and defense in one. As your realm rises, its power rises without limit. Itvhas Thirteen levels also as levels increase polwer increase . The first will take you ten months to master . The second, ten times longer ten months . The third—ten times the second time . Endless difficulty, endless potential. Mastering the first level alone will give your body the strength of a Second-Tier demon."
Han Li's breath caught—but questions crowded his mind faster than he could speak.
The elder continued:
"The second art suits your root perfectly—the Bamboo Cloud Sword Art. A sword art meant only for those who stand above fate."
Then the elder's gaze darkened.
"But right now, you cannot practice either. They require Foundation Establishment at minimum. For now, learn ordinary combat—martial techniques. You must be able to defend yourself."
He paused, then spoke softly:
"And when your master returns—kill him. If he learns you know the truth, he will not give you a second chance."
Han Li swallowed hard. His hands trembled—not from fear now, but from anger growing sharper by the second.
The elder raised his hand once more—and a sword materialized, elegant yet terrifying, surrounded by eight miniature blades orbiting it like wolves around an alpha.
"This is a high-grade artifact. Worth half the wealth of the greatest families—nearly a million spirit stones. This is the Mother Sword. The eight smaller blades obey it."
He flicked a finger—
The eight swords shot forward like streaks of green light.
BOOM—
The ground trembled as the wall cracked under the impact, fractures spreading like spiderwebs.
Han Li stared—speechless.
The elder handed him a thick book.
"This contains basic techniques, martial arts, and the two Celestial arts. Use it well. And remember—you cannot open any other chamber in this space until you reach the Deity Transformation stage."
Han Li nodded slowly, absorbing every word.
And this he took out a small pouch this can contain all kinds of, artifacts formations, and books just like this space .
"One more thing," the elder added. ". Not only In this lower realm— even in the spirit realm, or in immortal realms— a Celestial Root exist does not exist nor does any body know about it . It is as rare as a needle in sea in clestial realms .
During testing of sprit root can make the testing balk show any sprit root this is the power of clestial sprit root,
Because clestial root is rare so to dedect it you need super means, so as soon as you test you will bs able to change any dorit roo based on how much spritul qi you surge
So then you will be selected easily
Han Li felt so calm,
Still, the fire inside him only grew stronger.
"I understand," he whispered.
The elder gave a final nod. "Good. I now enter seclusion—for ten thousand years."
Han Li blinked. "W-What? Ten… thousand?"
The elder chuckled.
"In here, time flows differently. Ten thousand years inside is only one hundred outside."
Han Li's shoulders slumped.
"One hundred… That's still—"
"That is all I can do," the elder interrupt gently. "If you survive long enough to see me again… I will be satisfied."
And with that—his presence vanished.
Months passed.
Han Li trained relentlessly In space —his days filled with martial drills, sword control, and studying the Celestial arts. The Mother Sword now obeyed him or we can say he had controled this artifact , the eight blades dancing effortlessly around him.
He had mastered countless basic techniques, learned the Art of War, and cultivated the Immortal Mantra all the way to Tier Eight.
And now…
It was time.
Han Li stood before the exit of the hidden space—eyes steady, breath calm, heart burning.
He was no longer the naive boy who trusted blindly.
He was a cultivator with purpose.
A blade sharpened by betrayal.
And he was ready to face his master.
As han came out of the spce , which was actully in the ring of the bottle,
Han Li appeared, his gaze falling upon the bottle resting before him. He lifted it with deliberate care and pressed a light kiss to its surface.
"Fate must favor me… you truly are my lucky star."
Ten days passed in silence after Han Li cam out from the hidden space. He spent the time stabilizing his cultivation and carefully observing his surroundings, waiting for the moment he knew would come.
On the evening of the tenth day, the courtyard gate creaked softly. A familiar aura approached—calm, controlled, yet carrying the same hidden malice Han Li had failed to see before.
Lu had returned.
Han Li opened his eyes, expression unreadable. The faint glint of killing intent flashed and disappeared like lightning behind clouds.
This time, he would not hesitate.
Tonight, master and disciple would settle fate