Arthur sat alone at the corner table of a dimly lit tavern, the chatter of mercenaries and traders muffled behind the haze of cheap wine and smoke.
A wooden bowl of steaming broth rested before him. He ate slowly, each bite unhurried, his gaze drifting across the room. He noticed the barmaid's weary smile, the dice game rattling in the corner, the merchant's nervous fingers clutching his coin pouch.
Everything was ordinary, yet his eyes lingered as though searching for something beyond the mundane, a pattern hidden beneath the surface of life.
Why can't I have this? He thought with a quiet sigh.
When the bowl was empty, he rose without a word.
The walk back to his quarters was silent. He avoided his parents, who hesitated slightly to speak, and rushed straight inside his room. A small potion vial glimmered faintly on the desk in the lantern light. Arthur closed the door behind him, shutting out the world.
Setting the vial aside, he lowered himself to the wooden floor, cross-legged, and let the stillness wash over him. His breath steadied. His eyes fell shut.
And his cultivation began.
The world's noise faded until only one image remained: his Spirit Root. A dim, reddish-brown flicker, feeble and sluggish, drew Qi too slowly and weakly. It was a mark of limitation, a flaw carved into the very being of Qing Tian, the boy Arthur now possessed.
But tonight, he did not stop there. Using the knowledge of the Immortals, Arthur guided his awareness upward. He no longer looked at the Spirit Root as the sole vessel of power. Instead, he imagined Qi rising through his body, flowing into hidden centers that no scholar of Tianyu had ever spoken of.
The second energy center was the Sacral, which was glowing a steady red with faint pulses. Arthur judged it to be a Class Six energy center equivalent to Crimson Root, but it was called a Class Six Crimson Energy Center from the Immortals' worldview. As soon as the Qi reached this energy center, it increased the flow from the Spirit Root, urging it to drink more deeply from the surrounding Qi.
Arthur didn't stop; higher still, he made the Qi flow to the Solar Center. It was one class higher energy center. Visibly to his consciousness as a burning golden-yellow star, warm and steady, strengthening the flow until it surged.
The next energy center, the Heart, shone white-hot, arcs of light radiating outward, drawing Qi with hunger. The Throat Center above it glowed in a deep blue, a storm swirling within, pulling streams of Qi as though the world itself bent toward him.
Then the Third Eye ignited, a blaze of violet-tinged light that needed no urging; Qi poured into it of its own accord.
And finally — the Crown.
A thousand-petaled lotus unfolded above him. Its core was black as a void, yet it radiated a halo that bent light inward. The instant he touched it with his mind, Arthur lost control. His eyes flew open, his breath was sharp in his chest. Around him, the very air shuddered. Qi scattered and surged as though the walls themselves might split.
A truth struck him like a bolt of lightning.
This boy, whom the scholars had dismissed, the boy who despaired of throwing away his own life, was no cripple. He was the possessor of a body so rare not only in Tianyu but in the Boundless Immortal Firmament itself. A physique so unique that even in the eternity of Purgatory, the Immortals had only mentioned it once. Duan Qing Tian was actually a possessor of the Heavenly Seven Immortal Physique. A physique where the energy centers did not stand in conflict, but rose in perfect order, each one stronger than the last.
Arthur's hands trembled. He could not contain the shock. His so-called weakness was no weakness at all — it was the foundation of something far greater.
The realization struck him. What this meant was terrifying and awe-inspiring at once: no matter how far he advanced, his efficiency would never falter. Where others strained against their limits, his seven centers would rise like a ladder into the heavens, one step after another, endlessly.
His chest rose and fell, each breath quick and sharp. He didn't yet understand the scope of this gift or curse, but instinct drove him. Closing his eyes once more, Arthur sank into the process.
This time, after reaching the Crown, he diverted the flow. The knowledge of the Five Immortals whispered to him, and at last, Arthur understood why the scholars of Tianyu desacribed that a cultivator possessed only a single Spirit Root, because they could bot figure out the cycling of the Qi.
Instead of chaining the energy within — forcing it to travel directly from Spirit Root into the dantian — Arthur allowed it to rise all the way to the Crown before radiating outward. Not containment, but eruption.
The cycle turned frenzied. Qi surged like a storm, spilling from his body in violent waves before plunging back into the Spirit Root. From there, a single branch split off toward his dantian — and in an instant, it filled at a rate visible to the eye.
Crimson light bled through his dantian, molten and alive, marking the Ember Ignition Realm. Its very boundaries trembled, shedding layers like cracked stone, unable to bear the pressure.
Then —
BOOM!
A shockwave tore through the chamber, the doors buckling and collapsing as if struck by an unseen hammer. In a single circulation, Arthur broke through into the early stage of the Crimson Furnace Realm.
His ears rang. His Heart thundered. Yet beneath the chaos, he heard them — his parents' frantic voices calling his name, their footsteps rushing closer.
Arthur's eyes flicked to the potion vial rolling across the floor. His expression hardened. Without hesitation, he poured Qi into his palm and ignited it. The glass and liquid disintegrated into a fine ash that vanished into the air.
The door burst open. His father's voice thundered through the haze.
"Tian'er! What happened in here?!"
Arthur steadied his breath, forcing his body to stand firm despite the lingering tremors. He turned, face pale but unwavering.
"After consuming the potion," he said evenly, "I broke through… directly into the Crimson Furnace Realm."
For a heartbeat, silence held the chamber. Then his mother gasped, tears brimming, while his father's stern composure cracked into unrestrained joy.
They rushed forward, pulling Arthur into a fierce embrace. His mother clutched his shoulders as though afraid he might vanish, and his father's laughter thundered with pride. Warmth pressed against him — the love of family, raw and unyielding.
Yet even as Arthur felt their joy wash over him, the air outside seemed heavier, as though the heavens themselves had taken notice. Tianyu, a world bound by fragile balance, trembled with the birth of something it was never meant to contain.
For Arthur, this breakthrough was a triumph. For Tianyu, it blazed as both promise… and a great peril.