Azrael walked away from the notice board, his mind already racing through possibilities.
This was his chance. A real chance. If he could crack that formation—and he was confident he could—the ancient formation sect's treasury would have everything he needed. Advanced formation techniques. High-grade materials. Dao stones, qi stones, weapons, resources.
Everything.
His formation and rune partition of consciousness had already exceeded Grade 6 proficiency and was rapidly approaching Grade 7. The principles were clicking into place like puzzle pieces, each technique in his Myriad Spiritual Library contributing fragments of understanding.
By the time he'd walked halfway across the plaza, his comprehension had solidified into early Grade 7. Arrays and formations that would take normal Formation Masters decades to understand were becoming clear to him.
This was only the beginning. His Heaven-Defying Comprehension was already pushing him toward Grade 8.
The problem was materials. He needed actual physical examples to study—higher-grade formation plates, complex arrays, spatial anchors. Without them, his comprehension was hitting a wall. It was already a miracle he'd deduced Grade 7 and begun Grade 8 without any guidance or physical materials.
But that could wait. First, he needed to get into that secret realm.
He had two options:
Option 1: Register as a formation genius and be exempted from the competition.
Pros: Guaranteed entry. Work directly with true disciples. Access to formation analysis.
Cons: He'd be stuck with the true disciples and formation masters the entire time. No freedom of movement. No opportunity to "borrow" resources without witnesses.
Option 2: Participate in the outer sect competition and aim for top 25.
Pros: Freedom to move independently once inside. No supervision. Perfect opportunity to split off from the group and raid the treasury.
Cons: Had to reveal some combat ability. Had to actually compete.
Azrael didn't hesitate. Option 2.
If he registered as a formation genius, he'd be tied to the formation-breaking team, constantly watched by true disciples who could actually threaten him. He needed the freedom to operate alone.
Aiming for top 25 should be easy enough without revealing his full capabilities. Show competence, not dominance. Win convincingly but not overwhelmingly.
Decision made, Azrael changed direction toward the Mission Hall.
But even as his body walked, his partitioned consciousness continued working.
The formation partition had reached early Grade 8 comprehension—then stopped. Without physical materials to study, it couldn't advance further. Still, early Grade 8 was enough for what he needed.
The rune partition had similarly hit a ceiling, but it had already integrated enough knowledge to create complex runic scripts.
The combat partition had finished its initial survey and identified serious problems.
I have the combat power of a Peak Core Formation cultivator, Azrael thought. But it's theoretical. I can probably one-shot a Golden Core cultivator with a law-infused attack... once. Then I'd be out of qi, defenseless as a lamb for slaughter.
His qi reserves were too small. His Qi Condensation realm dantian, even with six layers of law-integrated cultivation, couldn't sustain prolonged combat at Golden Core intensity.
Solutions formed in his mind almost immediately. His thinking and comprehension were so fast that problems generated answers before he'd finished articulating them.
Solution 1: Master qi control to ultimate perfection. Use the smallest amount of qi for devastating effect with zero energy loss. Utilizing every single subatomic particle of qi.
If he could achieve perfect qi control, his combat power would probably soar to early Solar Dominion realm—not because he had more energy, but because he'd be using what he had with impossible efficiency.
Solution 2: Create an artifact that stored massive amounts of qi. Draw from it during combat to sustain law-infused attacks.
An image crystallized in his mind: a pair of sleek, sci-fi looking gloves with tiny rod-shaped gems embedded in them. The gems would serve as qi batteries, rechargeable and durable.
Both solutions were necessary. Qi control for efficiency, the artifact for capacity.
Time for preparations.
By the time he reached the Mission Hall, his formation and rune proficiency had stabilized at early Grade 8, but refused to advance without more material examples.
Still, early Grade 8 was more than enough for now.
The Mission Hall was a busy place even in the afternoon. Disciples came and went, accepting missions, turning in completed tasks, arguing about contribution point rewards. The building was smaller than the Trading Hall but more utilitarian—simple stone walls, wooden desks, notice boards covered in mission scrolls.
Azrael approached the main desk where a tired-looking middle-aged man in sect robes was processing paperwork.
"I'm here to register for the outer sect qualifying competition," Azrael said.
The man looked up, his eyes widening slightly as he took in Azrael's masked appearance and suppressed aura. For a moment he seemed to struggle with how to address him, then defaulted to professionalism.
"Name and cultivation level?"
"Azrael Voss. Qi Condensation, Layer 6."
The man's eyebrows rose. "Qi Condensation? Are you sure you want to register? The competition allows up to Golden Core cultivators. You'll be—"
"I'm sure."
"...Right." The man pulled out a jade slip and began recording information. "The qualifying competition is in one week. Arena Three, starting at dawn. Matches will be randomly assigned. Top 50 advance. Any questions?"
"None."
"Sign here with your spiritual imprint."
Azrael pressed his hand against the jade slip, leaving a faint impression of his qi signature. The man filed it away and handed him a token—a simple wooden piece carved with the number 247.
"That's your participant number. Don't lose it. Next!"
Azrael stepped aside as another disciple moved forward. Around him, other participants were registering, their conversations loud and boisterous.
"Did you see the prizes? Even 50th place gets five thousand spirit stones!"
"Forget the prizes. The secret realm is the real reward. My great-grandfather went last time and found a ten-thousand-year ginseng. Sold it for eighty thousand stones!"
"Yeah, but he almost died to a Foundation Establishment realm tiger. Lost his arm. Took three months and a fortune in healing pills to regrow it."
"Still worth it."
"Easy for you to say. You're already at Foundation Establishment Layer 7. Some of us are still at Qi Condensation."
A group of disciples near the notice board were placing bets.
"Twenty spirit stones says Chen Wei takes first place. He's Foundation Establishment Layer 9, practically Early Core Formation already due to his combat power."
"I'll take that bet. My money's on Liu Feng. His sword techniques are insane."
"You're both wrong. That masked guy who just registered? Did you feel his aura? He's either hiding his cultivation or he's got a treasure."
Azrael ignored the speculation and left the Mission Hall, his participant token secured in his spatial pouch.
One week to prepare.
He reassigned his consciousness priorities:
70% consciousness: Comprehend and elevate a qi control technique to Divine rank.
30% consciousness: Catalog goals for preparation work.
The 70% partition immediately dove into his Myriad Spiritual Library, pulling up every qi control technique he'd memorized. There were forty-seven of them—basic exercises, intermediate methods, advanced circulation patterns.
His Heaven-Defying Comprehension began breaking them down, extracting core principles, discarding inefficiencies, synthesizing something new.
Meanwhile, his 30% partition organized a to-do list:
Upgrade spatial bag to space ring using fundamental forces and Space Law Draw a Grade 6 qi gathering array that would have Grade 7 effectiveness Upgrade his Grade 1 sect-issued saber with runes and formations to Grade 8 capabilities Upgrade cave formation using the Grade 5 formation plate to achieve Grade 6 barrier, attack, and aura suppression Craft the qi storage gloves using gems, formations, and runes Physically practice qi control once the technique was perfected
The list solidified in his mind. Achievable. All of it achievable within a week if he worked efficiently.
First stop: Celestial Trading Hall again. He needed to buy materials.
Azrael returned to the Trading Hall, his purpose clear this time. He went straight to the second floor and began collecting items.
A Grade 6 formation plate—thirty thousand spirit stones. Expensive, but necessary for a qi gathering array.
A Grade 5 formation plate—fifteen thousand spirit stones. For his cave upgrade.
Ten tiny rod-shaped gems, each about a quarter the size of his pinky finger—one thousand spirit stones each. These gems were found in spirit stone mines, prized for their durability and excellent qi conductivity. Unlike spirit stones that disintegrated after use, these were reusable qi batteries. The only downside was slow charging, but he could solve that with runes.
A pair of standard but durable leather gloves—five hundred spirit stones. Not anything special, but they'd serve as the base for his enchantments.
Total cost: fifty-five thousand five hundred spirit stones.
He still had about twenty thousand left. Enough for emergencies.
The attendant at the counter processed his purchases without comment, though her eyes lingered on his mask curiously. She probably assumed he was a core disciple in disguise, buying materials for a secret project.
Good. Let her think that.
Azrael carefully stored everything in his spatial pouch and left the Trading Hall, heading back toward his cave in the outer sect.
The walk took twenty minutes, winding through training grounds and residential areas. Disciples practiced everywhere—some sparring with swords, others meditating in small groups, a few flying overhead on spiritual artifacts.
As he walked, Azrael noticed three figures beginning to shadow him from a distance. Inner sect disciples based on their robes—burgundy and gold instead of the outer sect's gray and blue.
Core Formation realm cultivators. All three of them.
They thought they were being subtle. They weren't.
Azrael's enhanced perception picked them up easily, tracking their positions even as they tried to stay out of direct line of sight. They'd probably spotted him at the Trading Hall and followed him out.
He considered his options. He could lose them easily—a spatial step or two and they'd never find him. But that would reveal capabilities he'd rather keep hidden for now.
Better to see what they wanted first.
By the time he reached near his cave, his 70% consciousness partition had finished its initial analysis of the qi control techniques.
Three divine-grade insights detected, his mind reported. Synthesis possible. Estimated completion time: four days.
Perfect. That left three days for physical implementation and practice.
But before he could continue moving forward, the three shadowing disciples made their move.
They appeared in front of him, blocking his path with practiced coordination. Their postures screamed arrogant young masters—chests puffed out, chins raised, expressions of casual superiority.
The leader stepped forward. He was tall and handsome in a conventional way, with sharp features and styled hair. His burgundy robes were embroidered with gold thread, marking him as someone from a wealthy family. A sword hung at his waist, its scabbard inlaid with spirit stones.
"Well, well," the leader said, his voice dripping with condescension. "What do we have here? An outer sect disciple with interesting taste in accessories."
His eyes fixed on Azrael's mask with obvious greed.
Azrael said nothing, simply waiting.
The leader's smile widened. "That's a magnificent mask you're wearing. Clearly a treasure—I can't even penetrate it with my spiritual sense, and the craftsmanship is exquisite. Grade 6 at minimum, I'd wager."
He stepped closer, his two companions flanking him.
"Here's what's going to happen. You're going to gift me that mask as a token of... friendship. And then you're going to become my lackey. I could use someone with an eye for quality items. In return, I'll provide protection and maybe a few spirit stones now and then. Generous, wouldn't you say?"
The two companions chuckled.
Azrael looked at them through his mask, his fractal eyes invisible behind the smooth surface.
Then he simply walked forward, passing right between them as if they weren't there.
The leader's face froze. His smile vanished, replaced by shock that quickly morphed into rage.
"Courting death!" he snarled. "How dare you, outer sect filth! Ignore me?!"
His hand flashed to his sword, drawing it in a blur of motion. Qi flooded the blade, making it glow with crimson light. He launched at Azrael's back, the sword aimed to strike and teach a lesson.
"I'll cripple your cultivation for this insolence!"
The blade descended.
And Azrael disappeared.
The sword cut through empty air.
"What—" The leader stumbled, his spiritual sense sweeping the area frantically. "How did he evade my senses? Where did he go? How is he so fast?!"
"Behind you," Azrael's voice came from directly behind him.
The leader spun, and his face went pale.
Azrael stood there calmly, one finger raised and pointed at the leader's back. At the tip of his finger floated a tiny sphere of qi—no larger than a small bead, less than a centimeter in diameter.
But it wasn't the size that made everyone freeze.
It was the density.
The qi in that minuscule sphere was compressed beyond anything they'd ever seen. Layer upon layer upon layer of energy, folded in on itself so many times that the very air around it seemed to warp. The spiritual pressure radiating from that tiny bead made their souls scream with primal dread.
The leader couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. His instincts were shrieking that if that bead detonated, he would die. Instantly. Completely. Not even ash would remain.
His companions had stumbled backward, their faces white as snow.
Other disciples who'd been watching from the sidelines—because there were always watchers when inner sect disciples confronted outer sect disciples—stood frozen in shock. Some had their hands on their weapons. Others had been preparing to intervene or place bets.
Now they just stared.
The amount of qi compressed in that tiny sphere... if it was unleashed, it could probably kill all of them ten thousand times over.
Silence.
Complete, absolute silence.
Azrael held the compressed qi bead for three heartbeats. Long enough to make his point crystal clear.
Then he dissipated it. The sphere vanished as if it had never existed, the spiritual pressure evaporating instantly.
"Next time," Azrael said quietly, "choose your targets more carefully."
He turned and walked away.
Nobody moved to stop him.
After five steps, his form shimmered and disappeared—a spatial step that teleported him away before anyone could track where he'd gone. He had no intention of leading them to his cave.
The moment he vanished, the plaza erupted into chaos.
"What the hell was that?!"
"Did you see that qi compression? That's impossible!"
"I couldn't even track how dense it was. My spiritual sense just... stopped."
One inner disciple, a Core Formation Layer 8 cultivator who'd been watching from a tea house balcony, spoke in a shaken voice: "That level of qi control... that should be at the level of the sect master. Maybe even beyond."
"The sect master? But he was just an outer disciple!"
"Was he though? Did anyone recognize him?"
"The mask blocked spiritual sense. Could be anyone."
"Is he the sect master's illegitimate son? Trained in secret?"
"Has to be. No other explanation. Perfect qi control like that doesn't just appear from nowhere."
"Or he's a hidden genius. Someone who broke through to a ridiculous level but stayed in the outer sect to avoid attention."
"Or a reincarnated expert! I've heard stories—"
The gossip spread like wildfire. Within an hour, half the outer sect would know about the masked disciple who'd humiliated three inner sect Core Formation cultivators with a single display of qi control.
By evening, the rumors would reach the inner sect.
By tomorrow, the elders would probably hear about it.
But Azrael didn't care about any of that. He'd already teleported to a secluded mountain ledge halfway across the outer sect territory, then walked the rest of the way to his cave through a circuitous route that ensured no one could follow.
When he finally entered his cave and sealed the door behind him, he let out a long breath.
"Seven days," he muttered. "I have seven days to prepare, and I'm already attracting attention."
He looked at the materials he'd purchased, now laid out on his desk. Grade 6 and Grade 5 formation plates. Ten qi-conducting gems. Durable gloves.
His 70% consciousness partition was still working on the Divine-grade qi control technique. Another four days until completion.
His 30% consciousness had the entire preparation checklist organized and ready.
Time to get to work.
But first, he'd need to upgrade his cave's concealment formation. If rumors were spreading, people might come looking. He couldn't afford interruptions.
Azrael pulled out the Grade 5 formation plate and began studying it, his enhanced perception analyzing every rune and channel.
"Let's see how much I can improve this," he said.
[END CHAPTER 8]