Beneath the moon's pale glow upon snow-cloaked peaks, the north wind rages with a mournful wail. Another winter has descended upon the Ling Kingdom, as snowflakes drift silently, swathing the world in a shroud of silver.
Martial prowess reigns supreme across the Tianwu Continent, where nearly every soul walks the path of a warrior. In this realm, no law holds sway save for the unyielding creed of nature: the strong thrive, the weak perish. Those who master martial arts to their zenith can rend the heavens and split the earth, soaring unbound through the skies. To be bereft of the ability to cultivate martial arts in the Tianwu Continent is to dwell at the very bottom of the social order, one's fate twisted and controlled by others.
Within a courtyard of the Ling Kingdom, a young man gazed up at the firmament with helplessness and sorrow. "Am I fated to be forever severed from the path of martial arts? Was my five years of unwavering perseverance all for naught?"
"Han'er, do you still grieve over your physique?" a dignified voice broke through his reverie. "You might renounce martial arts for scholarship, strategizing from behind a desk to secure victory a thousand li away. Even the mightiest warriors are mere brutes—would they not bow to your commands?"
"Father!" The youth turned to see a middle-aged man, tall and imposing, his eyes sharp and piercing. Gao Han let out a bitter, hollow smile. "I shall return to my chamber to study, then." With that, he turned and strode toward his quarters.
Watching his son's frail, retreating figure, the middle-aged man heaved a soft sigh and murmured, "What use is extraordinary talent if one's physique bars the path of martial cultivation? If the heavens seek to punish my son, I would gladly bear that torment in his stead!"
As the young man made his way back to his study, servants whispered and pointed, their snide remarks drifting to his ears unceasingly. "You've only just arrived—look, that's the Young Master of the Gao clan, the lofty heir!" The words "Young Master" dripped with biting sarcasm. "Speak so softly, or he'll hear you!" A newly hired servant glanced nervously at the youth.
"Hmph! Why fear him? He's nothing but a useless cripple!"
"A cripple? So that's what he is!"
…
The youth seemed inured to such taunts, walking past with an impassive expression.
His name was Gao Han, fifteen years of age, a scion of a cultivation clan in the Ling Kingdom. His father was Gao Jianfei, the clan's patriarch. As the patriarch's son, he had been identified as possessing an elemental physique at the age of ten. On the Tianwu Continent, elemental physiques were exceedingly rare; in the entire Cangnan Region, fewer than a handful of such individuals existed. To the clan's knowledge, only the eldest young master of the Jian clan—the most powerful lineage in the Ling Kingdom—boasted an elemental physique, alongside Gao Han and Gao Ping.
As the bearer of an elemental physique, he ought to have been revered and envied by all. Yet from the day he was born, Gao Han had known nothing but disdain, for his was merely an ordinary Water Physique, the most barren and unpromising of all elemental constitutions. On the Tianwu Continent, cultivation began at the age of ten, when one's physique was revealed. For five long years, Gao Han had endured the sneers of servants and the bullying of his male cousins.
Elemental physiques on the Tianwu Continent each held unique merits, save for the ordinary Water Physique. Barring some miraculous mutation, its offensive power paled in comparison even to that of warriors with no special constitution at all, its defensive capabilities, penetrative force, and destructive might vastly inferior to all others. On the Tianwu Continent, to be branded with a Water Physique was to be written off as a lost cause.
Amid the ceaseless jeers, Gao Han slowly made his way back to his chamber. He closed the door and leaned against it, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. For five years, he had clung to his Water Physique, persevering in cultivating his clan's martial art—the Soul-Breaking Art. Against all odds, his prodigious talent had carried him to the Eighth Layer of Qi Condensation at merely fifteen, and he had mastered the ninth form of the Soul-Breaking Sword Technique, leaving only the final form, Soul Severance, unperfected. Such talent was unrivaled in his clan, nay, in the entire Ling Kingdom. Yet he was cursed with the lowliest Water Physique; even an ordinary warrior at the Seventh Layer of Qi Condensation could defeat him with ease.
Recalling the trials of the past five years, Gao Han felt utterly drained and exhausted. He collapsed onto his bed and drifted into slumber, one of the few peaceful sleeps he had known in half a decade. Time marches on unceasingly; night faded, and dawn broke as it always did.
On the morrow, the snowstorm raged on, fiercer than the day before. Each flake cut like a shard of ice, slamming violently against men's cheeks beneath the howling gale. Servants bustled about the manor with urgency, for the year's end drew near. Every cultivation clan held a martial tournament to select disciples of exceptional talent and formidable strength for elite training, for only by replenishing their ranks with fresh blood could a clan grow stronger and endure eternally.
"Have you heard? Young Master Gao Ping, who has cultivated to great heights at the Qianling Sect, will return for the clan tournament this year. Rumor has it he's reached the Ninth Layer of Qi Condensation!"
Gao Han walked along the path, overhearing two servants murmuring among themselves.
"Truly? Young Master Gao Ping is but seventeen, yet he has attained the Ninth Layer of Qi Condensation. One step further, and he shall reach the mighty True Essence Realm, where one's inner qi transforms into true essence capable of striking foes from afar."
"That is not all—our Young Master Ping possesses the one-in-a-million Metal Physique! Far superior to some useless wretch in this manor!" one servant declared arrogantly, as if he were Gao Ping himself. Glancing at Gao Han as he spoke, he raised his voice deliberately.
"How dare you slander my brother behind his back!" A crisp, furious voice rang out. The servant who had mocked Gao Han was struck in the eye by a tiny, plump fist, leaving a blackened bruise. The fist belonged to a cherubic young girl—Gao Yang, Gao Han's ten-year-old younger sister.
"Little sister, there is no need for this," Gao Han said. Having endured years of ridicule, he had grown indifferent to the words of others, save for his helplessness over his Water Physique. Even a lack of any special constitution would have been better.
"Brother, they—"
"Enough. I wish to take a walk. You have turned ten this year; it is time for your physique to be tested. Prepare well, and I wish you fortune." Gao Han cut her off, walking silently toward the manor's gates.
Gao Han wandered aimlessly through the city streets, eventually finding himself beside a pool beyond the city walls. He stood at the water's edge, staring at its thickly frozen surface. The pool had always been a cold spring, its waters piercingly frigid. In the sweltering heat of summer, many came to draw its cool waters; in winter, it froze over early, its ice so thick no one had ever fathomed its depth.
"Others at the True Essence Realm wield true essence, yet all I can muster is watery qi! I might as well not cultivate at all, for I am no better than a bather!" The more Gao Han spoke, the angrier he grew, his fury flaring by his final words.
At that moment, two figures soared through the sky overhead, the enraged roar of one echoing faintly behind them: "Fang Tianhao! You dare slay an elite disciple of the Kuang clan! I will kill you!"
"To fly through the air—Spirit Fusion experts, and two of them at that!" Gao Han exclaimed in astonishment as he watched the speeding figures. The strongest warrior in Baicheng was his own father, a mere Seventh Layer True Essence cultivator. The sudden appearance of two Spirit Fusion experts left him utterly stunned.
The two landed on the far side of the pool and clashed without a word. The overwhelming force they unleashed shattered boulders on both banks and snapped towering trees in two. In the end, Fang Tianhao proved superior, striking his foe in the chest before fleeing.
The wounded man spat up blood, knowing he stood no chance of catching up. His gaze, however, fell upon Gao Han.
Gao Han's heart skipped a beat. He had witnessed the man's defeat—would he take his anger out on him? His fears were soon realized. The man leaped to Gao Han's side, looking down upon him with disdain. To a Spirit Fusion expert, a mere Qi Condensation cultivator like Gao Han was no more than an ant.
"Do you realize you have witnessed what you ought not to have seen?" the man said, channeling his power. An invisible pressure bore down on Gao Han, as if a massive boulder rested upon his shoulders. Yet he stood unyielding. "Senior, I saw you defeated, unable to pursue your foe. Now you seek to vent your rage on me, slaying a helpless junior to salvage your pride!"
A flash of killing intent ignited in the man's eyes. "Dare you defy me? You seek death. Yet I shall be lenient." He glanced at the frozen pool beside them. "I give you a chance to live or die by your own fortune."
With that, he lifted Gao Han with one hand and soared into the air. The wind howled past Gao Han's ears, and in an instant, they hung above the pool.
"Survive this, and hold your tongue in future. Offend those you ought not to, and you will perish. Remember my name: Kuang Wuya of the Kuang clan." He unleashed a powerful strike toward the ice from afar. A deafening crack split the air, and a vast hole opened in the frozen surface—the ice was over ten feet thick.
"Hehe, the ice is thick indeed. Your chances of survival are slim," Kuang Wuya laughed, hurling Gao Han into the icy chasm. Gao Han gasped for breath as he plummeted, seething with rage. To kill him for the sake of pride—Kuang Wuya, I shall not forget this.
A splash echoed as he hit the water, sending spray soaring a meter high. Kuang Wuya summoned a boulder with his power, pressing it over the hole, then departed in laughter. The moment Gao Han plunged into the water, he felt his body freezing. Momentum carried him two zhang deeper, and as the cold seeped into his bones, his heart turned to ice. Fortunately, he had reached the Eighth Layer of Qi Condensation, allowing him to hold his breath for far longer than ordinary men; otherwise, he would have suffocated long before freezing to death.
"If I am to perish anyway, I shall see what lies at the bottom of this pool!" Resolved, Gao Han swam downward. The cold intensified with every stroke, and just as he neared suffocation, he suddenly found himself enclosed in a vacuum.
He had reached the pool's bed, yet the space he occupied held no water—instead, a vacuum held back the waters above. With his breath nearly spent, Gao Han opened his mouth to gasp for air, only to inhale a frigid, biting chill instead of ordinary air.
The chill was unbearably cold, seeping into his flesh as if to turn him to ice, his body aching as though it might shatter. The icy energy ran rampant through his meridians, and as Gao Han gasped in agony, streams of white frost qi poured into his mouth with every breath.
As the chill gradually dissipated, the vacuum at the pool's bed shrank, vanishing entirely when the last wisp of frost qi entered Gao Han's body. In that instant, a surge of warm energy welled up from beneath the pool bed, rushing upward. Gao Han's body was carried along with the current, speeding toward the surface.
Within his body, the frost qi was steadily absorbed by his meridians. In his dantian, a tiny, translucent bead of water the size of a pea had once resided; now it greedily devoured the frost qi, transforming into a perfectly round ice pearl that emanated a faint, cold glow within his dantian.
The boulder covering the icy hole was shifted repeatedly by the surging current, finally tumbling aside. Gao Han was propelled out of the opening, lying motionless on the ice as water gushed forth like a fountain, the pool's waters growing warm by degrees.
Having absorbed the frost qi, Gao Han no longer felt the bitter cold, his senses slowly returning. Sensing the warmth of the water, he quickly understood: the pool had been a cold spring only because of the frost qi beneath it. Now that he had absorbed that energy, the waters had turned warm—proving it had once been a thermal spring.
He climbed to the shore and stretched, sensing the changes within his body. As he circulated the Soul-Breaking Art, he felt a cold inner qi replacing his former watery qi. He struck a nearby tree with a casual punch, leaving a faint fist mark on the trunk, wreathed in wispy strands of ice.
"It seems my Water Physique has mutated, far stronger than before," Gao Han thought, a flicker of joy in his heart. "That punch was but a casual blow. Judging by my current state, my power lies just below the Ninth Layer of Qi Condensation. Coupled with my mastery of the ninth form of the Soul-Breaking Sword Technique, even an ordinary Ninth Layer Qi Condensation warrior is no match for me. Still, I shall need to test my strength when the chance arises."
Feeling the immense power born of his mutated physique, Gao Han's heart brimmed with confidence. He laughed wildly, "I am no longer a useless cripple! Hahaha!" His laughter faded, and his expression returned to its usual calm composure. Five years of relentless cultivation had forged his will into steel. With his confidence restored and his long-held desire to become strong reignited, his resolve was unshakable.
"Have you heard? Young Master Ping has returned!" "Everyone knows! Word is he's become an outer-sect disciple of the Qianling Sect!"
"Look, the useless cripple is back!" one servant muttered upon spotting Gao Han in the distance. "Hush, or Young Lady Gao Yang will beat you again!" "Hmph! Hiding behind a woman's skirts!"
Gao Han paid the whispers no mind, walking toward his quarters with an indifferent gaze. Words were empty now; only deeds could silence the doubters. Proof, not persuasion, was the only path forward.
Returning to his chamber, Gao Han changed out of his soaked garments and set off for Gao Jianfei's quarters.
"Alas, I only hope Yangyang is found to possess a special physique this time," Gao Han heard his father sigh as he approached his parents' room.
"What troubles you?" his mother Li Xiuzhi asked.
"You know full well that my second brother, Gao Jianfeng, has long coveted my position as patriarch. His eldest son, Gao Ping, is a disciple of the Qianling Sect, bearing the rare Metal Physique, his cultivation bordering on the True Essence Realm! If Yangyang lacks a powerful cultivation physique, I fear the patriarch's seat…"
"Then let it go. A peaceful life is all we need," Li Xiuzhi replied. Special physiques were rare beyond measure; for a small cultivation clan to count two among its members was already a marvel across the Tianwu Continent.
"I care not for the title, but our Han'er is extraordinarily intelligent. If the seat falls to my second brother, he will blame himself even more," Gao Jianfei sighed softly, too preoccupied to notice his son's approaching footsteps.
"Father, worry not. They shall never seize the patriarch's seat. I ask that you register my name for the martial tournament—I shall compete this year," Gao Han said calmly.
"Han'er, we were just—" Gao Jianfei stammered at his son's sudden entrance, stunned by his declaration to join the tournament.
Li Xiuzhi said anxiously, "Han'er, your uncle's greed for the patriarch's seat is not your fault. He has coveted it for years."
"Yes, if you step onto the arena, they will show you no mercy. Abandon this thought," Gao Jianfei urged.
Gao Han smiled faintly. "Let them try to break me—they lack the strength to do so. Rest assured, Father and Mother; I know what I am doing." With that, he turned and left.
"Husband, what shall we do?" Li Xiuzhi asked worriedly. Gao Jianfei paused for a moment. "Register Han'er's name. He has always been level-headed, not one to act rashly. I shall keep a close watch over him. If things turn dire, I will save him even if it means breaking the tournament rules."
On his way back, Gao Han let out a cold smirk. Uncle, if you show no kindness, do not blame me for my cruelty.