Dawn came, and the morning dew gradually faded.
An Ling sat cross-legged inside his chamber, cultivating diligently by himself.
Mana swirled around the room, surging toward him as it condensed within his dantian.
Here it comes!
He retrieved a pill from his storage ring and immediately swallowed it.
Qi Breakthrough Pill—an essential and precious spiritual item for Qi Refinement cultivators like him.
As its name suggested, it was a pill that aided low-level cultivators in breaking through to the seventh-level, late-stage Qi Refinement Realm.
Time was a crucial resource for all cultivators. Being stuck in the middle stage for too long was the biggest mistake and regret of countless low-level cultivators.
Only a select few with sufficient resources—or powerful backers—could afford to acquire a Qi Breakthrough Pill and charge straight into the late stage of Qi Refinement in one go. Fortunately, An Ling was one of them.
Groomed by his elders, he had been instructed to reach the Peak Qi Refinement Realm as soon as possible.
Due to his early maturity and remarkable cultivation talent, the elders had long agreed—silently yet unanimously—to support his pursuit of the Dao. Some even believed he might one day reach the Foundation Building Realm, carrying the entire clan's hopes on his shoulders.
For small clans like the An Clan, their ultimate dream was to nurture a single cultivator who could reach the Foundation Building Realm—enough to elevate their clan into a true immortal lineage.
Fortunately, An Ling was a special case—a hidden talent among the humble.
His aura suddenly changed as he drew in the surrounding Qi.
A faint green light surged beneath his skin, and his mana absorption rate instantly doubled.
An Ling's determined eyes snapped open.
"Now!"
With a solemn voice, he pushed his will to the limit. The condensed Qi within his dantian churned violently—it was painful, but not unbearable.
He gritted his teeth and endured the transformation.
Thanks to the Breakthrough Pill, the restored Qi within his dantian was sufficient to fuel the process. His body and mind remained sharp as he adapted to the sudden changes.
Soon, his Qi began to transform—its texture thickening into a faint mist, a clear sign of progress and accomplishment on the path of cultivation.
That faint mist slowly filled his dantian, replacing the gas-like Qi that low-level cultivators possessed.
The grueling transformation lasted for over an hour, and by the time it ended, An Ling's body was drenched in sweat and dust as he finally stood up.
"After fifteen years, I've finally reached the Seventh-Level, Late-Stage Qi Refinement Realm," he murmured calmly.
An Ling was now twenty-five years old. To have reached the late stage at such an age was a clear sign of a promising future—one that pointed toward the Foundation Building Realm.
If An Yuanshu and the others were here, they would have celebrated his success and immediately declared to purchase a Foundation Building Pill, even if it cost the clan's entire fortune.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say they'd pour all their savings and treasures just to help An Ling reach the next stage.
After all, a single Foundation Building cultivator could guarantee the clan's prosperity for at least two hundred years.
Their sacrifices would finally bear fruit, and their names would be forever etched in the clan's genealogy—as the uncles and elders of the first Foundation Building cultivator of the An Clan.
What greater honor could there be?
But An Ling's achievement wasn't purely because of his talent.
"It's been twenty years since I came to this world… time really flies."
He smiled faintly, gazing out the window.
The blue sky and drifting white clouds above the mountains reminded him not of peace, but of how insignificant he still was before the vast world of cultivation.
"I'm not asking for much. As long as I can reach the Golden Core Realm and live for a thousand years, that'll be more than enough for me in this second life."
He had no grand ambitions to trample the weak or seek ultimate power. As long as he could travel far and wide, exploring the beauty of this magical world, it would already be a far more exciting life than his previous one—filled with endless hours of work and the monotony of traffic jams.
An Ling was not a native of this world—he had come from modern Earth. He was once an ordinary young man who died in an accident and reincarnated into this realm of cultivation.
"Divine Dogs."
He softly called out, and two wolves—one blue, one orange—appeared beside him.
As a reincarnated person, the heavens had granted him three wishes.
Yet there was a catch—every grandiose wish twisted his cause and effect. The being who sent him here had warned: to defy the heavenly balance was to invite calamity and tribulation, the price for power no mortal should wield.
But An Ling wasn't a greedy person. He wished only for a peaceful, long life—to cultivate quietly and wander freely in this magical world.
He never wanted to be the center of attention, nor to be entangled in unnecessary trouble.
So, his wishes were modest—small enough not to disturb the threads of fate.
One of those wishes granted him a special body constitution that allowed him to summon the Divine Wolves and other elemental beasts—
—The Six-Elemental Shadow Vessel.
This unique constitution allowed An Ling to summon five beast familiars, each corresponding to his five spiritual roots: Fire, Water, Earth, Wood, and Wind.
The sixth beast, however, was different—it was the amalgamation of all five, born from their unity.
When An Ling was first discovered to have five spiritual roots—the worst combination possible—the elders had paid him little attention. They treated him kindly but never with expectation.
That changed when, upon reaching the first level of Qi Refinement, he revealed his body constitution and summoned his beasts.
An Yuanshu and the other elders were ecstatic. They scoured the markets for information, desperate to learn about this strange physique.
When they finally discovered it was the Six-Elemental Shadow Vessel, their excitement dimmed.
According to their findings, cultivators with this constitution rarely surpassed the Golden Core Realm, as their progress was hindered by the complexity of cultivating five elemental roots at the same time.
In the cultivation world, fewer spiritual roots meant faster and purer mana refinement.
Thus, for the struggling An Clan, nurturing An Ling to great heights seemed nearly impossible.
Information about the Six-Elemental Shadow Vessel came mostly from powerful sects or noble clans—those wealthy enough to provide the massive resources required to cultivate such a body.
The An Clan, with its shallow foundations, simply could not afford that luxury.
Yet all were stunned when An Ling advanced to the fourth level of Qi Refinement in under five years—with minimal resources.
It was nothing short of miraculous.
An Yuanshu and the elders were overjoyed, their hope rekindled.
From that day onward, An Ling stayed by An Yuanshu's side—as both his student and protector.
In cultivation, resources were second only to time. Spiritual fruits, cultivation techniques, and profound knowledge were essential to progress.
Unfortunately, the An Clan possessed none of these.
They had no spiritual fruits to accelerate cultivation, no tailored techniques to refine the roots of their disciples, and no ancient texts to grant insight into higher realms. Foundation Building, for them, was a mountain of despair.
But An Ling's Six-Elemental Shadow Vessel filled one of those gaps.
The constitution itself was a built-in cultivation method, strengthening both body and spirit as it grew.
With the clan's remaining wealth, they spent a considerable sum to purchase a decent Body Refinement Technique—one that not only helped An Ling further strengthen his foundation but also served as a valuable addition to their nearly empty Technique Pavilion. It was truly a case of killing two birds with one stone.
Now, the only thing missing was the Foundation Building Pill—and with it, An Ling would have a far greater chance of successfully breaking through and establishing his foundation.
Because of this, An Ling had become far too important to risk. His potential alone carried the hope of elevating the An Clan to new heights—a future that would vanish if he were to die prematurely on the battlefield.
That was why the clan forbade him from joining the defense against the Beast Tide. His duty was not to fight, but to protect this sacred refuge and preserve the clan's final lifeline.
"Return."
An Ling retracted the two wolves after confirming that they remained at the fifth level of Qi Refinement—meaning the others were still the same.
"In the following days, I'll need to focus on raising all my beasts to the proper levels. Once I do, even a Peak Qi Refinement cultivator won't be a threat to me."
He smiled faintly.
"And when I tame the sixth beast… I'm certain that no ordinary cultivator in the Qi Refinement Realm will be my match—except perhaps sword cultivators, beast tamers, sons of heaven, or those spoiled young masters born with treasures in hand."
The Six-Elemental Shadow Vessel allowed its five elemental beasts to grow up to one level below their master's cultivation. The exception was the sixth beast—an amalgamation of all five elements—capable of matching its master's strength and freely wielding every elemental power without restraint.
An Ling could already imagine the faces of cultivators robbers and demonic cultivators when they realized their "easy prey" had a beast equal to his own strength.
But that future was still far off. He needed time to prepare—preferably after reaching the Peak of the Qi Refinement Realm and tempering his beasts until they could stand against the sixth one's ferocity with unwavering confidence.
"I should make one more patrol before continuing my cultivation."
It was already seven in the morning—an hour past his scheduled patrol. He was supposed to make his rounds every six hours, yet his breakthrough had delayed him longer than expected.
Though he was a cultivator, the mortals' safety took precedence over his cultivation progress. They were the lifeblood of the clan—the source of future talent and labor. If anything were to happen to them under his watch, even he—the clan's favored talent—would not escape the elders' wrath.
An Ling cast a cleansing spell on himself, washing away the sweat and dust.
He wore a sleeveless white top styled like a martial artist's gi, though unlike the traditional rough fabric, his was made from a soft, thin weave that breathed easily against his skin. Beneath it, a fitted black underlayer clung to his torso—light and flexible, keeping him warm without restricting movement. His loose white pants matched the gi's airy texture, and both were secured at the waist by a smooth, thin black sash wrapped twice around him, fastening the gi's hem and the pants firmly in place. On his feet were black sandals, their straps neatly fastening the loose ends of his trousers.
Over it all, he wore a black haori that fell just below his thighs. Its wide sleeves swayed with each movement, the dark cloth flowing smoothly like shadow over snow. The sharp contrast of black and white lent him an air of calm dominance—disciplined, composed, and quietly dangerous.
Standing before the mirror, he ran his fingers through his short black hair, sweeping it back in uneven layers that framed his face with a sharp yet effortless style. The strands fell naturally into place—untamed yet deliberate—exuding a quiet confidence that balanced refinement and wildness. His appearance was neat yet fierce, free-spirited but composed.
True to his origin, An Ling preferred comfort and simplicity over the ethereal splendor typical of cultivators. He cared little for appearances and which often earned scolding from the elders, who demanded he adopt a more "majestic" style befitting a future clan leader.
However, An Ling had other plans of his future place in the clan—ones he had yet to reveal.
After finishing his preparations, An Ling stepped outside to inspect the defensive array one last time before beginning his delayed morning patrol.