After some time practicing the breathing method, Yantian had gathered an extensive amount of qi.
On the final step of comprehension, his core began thumping—slow and steady, like a heartbeat.
The once blazing red core gradually calmed. With each breath, the gathered qi formed rings of deep red energy.
Ten minutes of refinement later, his core reached perfect stabilization. His qi reserve had nearly doubled.
He was at the threshold. Close to becoming a true martial artist.
All he needed was time.
Five minutes passed.
Nothing.
Again and again, Yantian tried to transform the accumulated qi into his dantian. Each time—he failed.
Thirty-seven tries. Still nothing.
It was as if his body outright rejected the qi.
Panic rising, Yantian wondered if he'd chosen the wrong breathing method.
He flipped through the remaining techniques, trying each path in turn.
Still—nothing.
Finally, he slumped cross-legged and let out a shaky breath, searching for an answer. Then he remembered:
"The records spoke of three paths."
Though the record contained all the knowledge of the ruined world, it had relied on Star Forgers to inscribe history.
At that time, only the Emperor had earned that title.
When he passed, the will of the world recognized the record as equal to the Book of Death—capable of recording all of humanity without aid.
But by then, it was too late.
Though the record had gained autonomy, the Emperor never left behind the technique for the Star Path.
As Yantian pondered, a light suddenly flashed from within the record.
He leaned closer, curiosity overcoming caution.
Before he could react, the light pulled him in—unyielding and absolute.
In a breath, he was swallowed by it.
⸻
He found himself on a vast battlefield.
Across the land, bodies lay scattered—no one could tell who had triumphed. Only loss and sorrow remained.
A new portal opened.
Now he saw a massive forest filled with ancient, wild beasts.
And then another—each one revealing a different period in time, a different hero.
A voice echoed—first as a child, then a teen, then a woman, finally a deep, resonant tone.
"Ignore those. Come. Keep your eyes this way."
"Try not look back."
With the voice's guidance, Yantian pressed forward, resisting the pull of the illusions.
He soon stood before a massive gate, inscribed with strange language.
As he tried to read it, the gate slowly opened.
"Come. I believe it's time we met."
⸻
He stepped into an endless sea of peonies.
Land stretched on infinitely.
To his left, a small table rested beneath the open sky, with two tree trunks for stools.
A black teapot sat atop it—no cups—a large chess board at the center.
Seeing no one, Yantian wandered the realm.
He encountered a small rabbit with clear divine intelligence, sitting quietly beside him.
Later, he saw a floating pond, a twin-headed phoenix, and even glimpsed sea creatures beneath a sky-blue lake.
After what felt like hours, he returned to the table—this time, a young man sat waiting.
Yantian approached, bowing with respect.
"This humble junior greets the senior."
The man wore gold and green imperial robes, a silver crown pulsing with faint lightning.
His black hair was long, his eyes deep brown and calm, his smile relaxed.
The senior lifted his sleeve and snapped his fingers.
In an instant, Yantian found himself seated across from him.
"Good, very good."
The senior smiled, as if pleased for reasons Yantian couldn't fathom.
"Between Heaven and Earth, we stand unshaken. Before the Dao, we do not yield. The Martial Path endures—eternal and unmoved."
A surge of energy rushed through Yantian's body.
The senior materialized a chess piece from qi and placed it on the board.
"After journeying through countless worlds…That is the truth I ultimately came to before my death."
The air grew heavy.
The senior's power was overwhelming—so vast, even his words made the air tremble.
"Mhm…"
He scratched his chin thoughtfully.
Yantian, thinking it was his turn, tried to summon qi to his fingertips.
Nothing. His dantian was empty.
Embarrassed, he lowered his sleeve and looked away.
The senior watched quietly, then finally spoke.
"I see now why you called to me."
He paused.
"We will meet again. Not yet—but soon. For now, you need this first."
He made the same gesture as the old man.
From the sky, a scroll sealed in four thick chains descended—landing gently in Yantian's hands.