The training grounds of the Azure Sky Sect were alive with the thunder of fists and the roar of qi. Disciples sparred in pairs, their shouts echoing off the stone walls as spiritual techniques lit the air in brilliant bursts of flame, wind, and steel.
Lu Tian stood apart from them, near a cracked pillar at the edge of the grounds, his palm raised. A thin layer of frost shimmered over his skin, pale and delicate as morning dew.
He exhaled slowly, and a wisp of cold breath drifted into the air.
So it's real. The bond with Lan Xue gave me this.
The Frost Qi was faint, fragile—like trying to grasp water with bare hands—but it was there. He could shape it, bend it, even release it in short bursts. He tightened his fist, and a shard of frost cracked across his knuckles.
The Heaven-Devouring Meridian pulsed inside him, whispering.
Bonds deepen… power strengthens…
The connection thread with Lan Xue still lingered faintly in his chest, cold and brittle. Hatred, disdain—those were bonds too. Weak, but enough to feed him fragments of her cultivation.
If this is what I can gain from hostility, what about loyalty? Affection? Desire?
The thought made his pulse quicken. Ten threads. Ten fiancées. Ten sources of endless strength.
But he had no time to savor the discovery. The Inner Sect Tournament loomed, and Xu Han's fury burned hotter than ever. Without power, Lu Tian wouldn't last the first round.
He spread his fingers, releasing the Frost Qi again. This time, the shard grew sharper, cleaner, until a sliver of ice hovered in his palm. He sent it darting forward—and it embedded itself into the cracked pillar with a sharp crack.
The disciples nearby turned, startled.
"That trash… what was that?""Was that Frost Qi? Impossible—he's never shown affinity before.""Maybe he stole another technique!"
Lu Tian ignored their mutters, though the meridian drank in their doubt like fine wine. Every sneer, every whisper, strengthened him—just a little. Drops feeding the ocean.
But then a sharp, mocking laugh cut through the training ground.
"Well, well. Look who's pretending to be a cultivator."
Lu Tian didn't need to look. He knew that voice.
Zhao Mei.
She strode forward, crimson silks swirling around her like living flame. Her hair, dark as midnight, framed a face too beautiful to belong to someone so venomous. Her eyes burned with contempt—and perhaps amusement.
"So the cripple grows tricks," she said, stopping just before him. "First you humiliate Xu Han, now you dare to play with Frost Qi? Don't tell me you think you're suddenly talented."
Her voice carried across the training grounds, drawing a crowd. Disciples gathered, hungry for spectacle.
Lu Tian smirked faintly. "Funny. You sound worried, Mei'er. Afraid I'll outshine you?"
Her cheeks colored at the shameless address, but her smile only sharpened. "Afraid? Of you? Don't make me laugh. I could burn your little frost with a breath."
The meridian pulsed. A new thread of light connected to her—fiery, volatile, sparking with disdain. Lu Tian felt heat surge through his veins, clashing against the frost. His body trembled as the two opposing forces battled inside him.
[Bond Detected: Zhao Mei][Status: Hostility → Connection Strengthened][Reward: Flame Qi Fragment Acquired]
His palm burst into flame—red-orange fire mingled with the faint black tinge of devouring energy. Disciples gasped, stumbling back.
Zhao Mei's eyes widened for just an instant before narrowing again. "You dare mimic me?"
"Not mimic," Lu Tian said, his grin widening. "Devour."
Her aura flared, fire dancing across her arms. The heat pressed against him like a blazing sun, and for a moment he thought she might attack outright.
But Zhao Mei only laughed, sharp and scornful. "Enjoy your borrowed strength while it lasts. The tournament will expose what you are—a parasite feeding on scraps. And when you fall, don't expect mercy."
She spun on her heel, storming away, her crimson robes trailing like fire.
The disciples whispered furiously."He has Frost and Flame Qi?!""That shouldn't be possible!""Maybe he really is using some demonic art…"
Lu Tian ignored them all. He stared at his hands—one coated in frost, the other wreathed in flame. Fire and ice clashed inside him, yet the Heaven-Devouring Meridian devoured the conflict, knitting both fragments into his veins. The pain was sharp, but the strength… the strength was intoxicating.
Lan Xue's frost. Zhao Mei's flame. Both mine now.
He exhaled, releasing the energy. The frost sizzled into steam, the flame guttered out, and the whispers of the crowd faded into the background.
The truth crystallized in his mind. This wasn't just about cultivation. It was about conquest. Every bond he forged—through love, hate, or rivalry—would become part of him. The world could mock him, despise him, call him trash, but in the end, they would all feed his rise.
The meridian purred in satisfaction.
Devour… all… until the heavens fall.
That night, back in his quarters, Lu Tian sat cross-legged on his worn mat. He cycled the Frost Qi and Flame Qi together, forcing them into harmony. His veins burned, his bones shivered, but slowly, agonizingly, the two opposing forces began to swirl around each other in balance.
Sweat poured down his brow. His teeth clenched. Every breath was pain. But with each pulse of the meridian, the energy refined itself, smoother, stronger, uniquely his.
Hours later, he opened his eyes. Frost misted from one hand. Fire smoldered in the other. And neither hurt him anymore.
He laughed softly. "If I can balance fire and frost, then what else can I devour?"
But before the thought could linger, a sharp knock rattled his door.
"Lu Tian!" A disciple's voice barked from outside. "The tournament brackets have been posted. You're to face Senior Brother Fang in the first round!"
Lu Tian's grin widened. Fang was no weakling—an inner disciple at the peak of Qi Condensation. Against the old Lu Tian, it would've been suicide.
But now?
He flexed his hands, frost and fire swirling together in devouring harmony."Perfect. Let's see how much he can feed me."