High above the altar, Meng Meng's body glowed faintly, aura rippling like a storm held in a jar. The sky above had torn apart, clouds swirling violently as the divine tribulation descended. Lightning streaked across the heavens, each strike a test of his will, each rumble a challenge from the heaven itself.
Meng Meng closed his eyes, biting his tongue to suppress the blood from his lips. "Foundation… established…" His voice was hoarse but resolute. The words echoed across the dark sea, into a world that had never truly welcomed him.
Time stretched. The pain of tribulation tore at his bones, his muscles, his very soul. His shattered stars and fragmented soul orb had been reforged by sheer force of will. Every atom in his body felt reborn, reformed, more alive and more dangerous than before.
He inhaled sharply, feeling the flow of Qi and spiritual energy around him. After reaching Foundation, Meng Meng instinctively began absorbing both, letting the currents of the world's energy refine and empower him. Waves of power surged through his body, shaking even the altar beneath him.
And then it happened—a moment of clarity. His soul orb, now shimmering faintly, pulsed with a rhythm beyond ordinary cultivation. Nine stars had reformed, a new pattern of power beginning to emerge. Yet, as he opened his eyes, the world felt distant. Memories of the past decade—the loneliness, the suffering, the faces, the losses—floated like fragments, blurry yet undeniable.
Meng Meng inhaled sharply, sensing the energy around him. spiritual energy flowed through him in waves he had never experienced before. The path ahead was no longer solely determined by stages of cultivation. Something deeper stirred within his heart—a Dao, a reflection of himself, whispering quietly, waiting to choose him.
He closed his eyes and listened. Not with thought, but with feeling. The Dao was not a path to be chosen—it chose the cultivator whose heart resonated with it. Every moment of pain, every defiance against fate, every longing for freedom and autonomy flowed together, calling out. The Dao of Freedom reached out, wrapping itself around his spirit.
It was subtle at first—a current of energy threading through his veins, a soft tug on his soul. But the more he listened, the clearer it became. The Dao of Freedom had chosen him, recognizing the essence of his being: unyielding, independent, and unwilling to bend to any force—even heaven itself.
A faint glow emerged from his soul orb, light dancing like flames as it intertwined with his essence. Slowly, the energy molded itself, responding to his spirit, aligning with his unshakable will. The Dao of Freedom was taking root.
This Dao was no ordinary path. To cultivate it meant to sever the constraints of the world, to bend the laws of heaven and earth without breaking oneself. It demanded not only skill but understanding, perspective, and an unbreakable heart. It resonated perfectly with Meng Meng's nature—his defiance, his courage, and the long shadow of loneliness he had borne since birth.
Opening his eyes, golden light reflecting in his irises, Meng Meng felt an unshakable calm. The storm above, the dark sea below, the altar beneath—none could bind him. The Dao of Freedom acknowledged him as its chosen cultivator, and in turn, he acknowledged it as his own.
"No chains… no restrictions… only will… only freedom," he whispered.
The divine tribulation faded, clouds settling, the sea quieting. Though his foundation had been established, it was more than mere cultivation—it was a declaration of his soul, a choice made by the Dao itself. Beyond Qi, Foundation, Golden Core, or Nascent Soul, Meng Meng now walked a path that no force could dictate.
The world seemed to pause, acknowledging the emergence of a cultivator who had been chosen by his own heart. From this moment onward, Meng Meng's journey would no longer be a mere struggle against fate, but a defiance of it. Every step forward would be his, guided by the Dao that had recognized his essence: the Dao of Freedom.
The Dao stirred in his heart. Not a path to choose, but one that chose him. His spirit resonated with the Dao of Freedom—untouchable, unstoppable, and utterly his own. A subtle glow emerged from his soul orb, entwining with his essence.
Once the Dao of Freedom took root, Meng Meng descended to the island. The aura of the place seemed smaller compared to his newfound power. He spread his divine sense and saw a 4th stage Jade Lion prowling the shore, its aura radiating pure lethality.
A faint smirk crossed his face. Without hesitation, he activated Swift Step, appearing 100 feet away, then 200, closing distance in mere heartbeats. Gathering death energy in his fingertips, he muttered, "Painless Death!"
A beam of pure death qi erupted from his fingers, piercing through the Jade Lion. The creature staggered, its roar shaking the island, but Meng Meng didn't stop. Using the momentum, he leapt 300 feet in a single bound, landing gracefully. The Lion collapsed, completely overwhelmed.
He raised his head and roared. Not a mere shout, but a Howling Roar—a terrifying technique that could disturb the souls of weaker cultivators, shaking their very essence and, if unprepared, potentially shattering them. The roar echoed across the island and the dark sea, resonating like a storm, a warning to all who might challenge him.
Breathing deeply, Meng Meng looked around the island. The Dao of Freedom pulsed within him, guiding his movements, enhancing his strength, and connecting him to the very energy of the world. Every strike, every step, every roar now carried a weight far beyond ordinary cultivators.
He smiled faintly, feeling the thrill of absolute control. "Foundation… established. Dao of Freedom… chosen. And I… Meng Meng… will forge a path beyond the heavens themselves."
1.cultivator can choose their dao when reaching foundation establishment and their dao match their personality