The next morning, before the sunlight had fully risen, Wen Tan was already awake. After the tremendous transformation of the previous night, he felt strength surging through his entire body, as though with a mere lift of his hand he could snap steel apart.
Following his usual routine, he carried water, chopped firewood, and then headed to the Fire Slaughter Hall to work. But today… everything was different.
The axe that once felt as heavy as a boulder now seemed light as a feather in his hands. Each swing crack! a log as thick as his thigh split cleanly in two, effortlessly. Carrying water? Ten buckets slung across his shoulders, yet his steps remained steady as ever.
He calculated silently in his mind:
My current strength… is at least equivalent to a thousand jin.
That's power equal to ten strong men combined!
Tasks that once took three full watches to complete were now finished in less than one. Sweat? There was almost none only gleaming skin and subtly bulging muscles, brimming with vitality.
The other menial disciples could only gape in disbelief.
"What did that Wen Tan kid eat? Why is he suddenly strong like an ox?!"
"Wasn't he as frail as a scholar before, barely able to lift a pen?
Why does he work faster than us now? And look at him he's as sturdy as an old farm ox from my village!"
Wen Tan merely smiled faintly and said nothing. In his heart, he was perfectly clear:
This is only the Ninth Layer of the Bone Tempering Realm… if I step into the Viscera Tempering Realm, I'll be several times stronger!
He clenched his fist, feeling power surge through him, a wild yearning rising within a yearning for the true path of cultivation.
Yet just as the joy of strength swelled, a sense of unease followed close behind.
My cultivation has skyrocketed… but I lack real combat experience.
If I encounter a ferocious demonic beast, or an experienced outer disciple, could I really defeat them or would I just become a punching bag?
He tightened his grip, feeling bones like iron and power enough to crush stone, yet a sobering thought echoed in his mind:
Raw strength without technique is no different from fighting a tiger barehanded there's no chance of victory.
Against a true enemy, I wouldn't even have the ability to resist; I'd only be throwing away my life.
Worse still, he discovered something even more troubling.
Low-grade demonic beast blood essence was no longer enough to satisfy the incense burner. Over the past few days, no matter how much he fed it, that golden light only flickered faintly like a starving man given only a few grains of rice.
If this continues… the incense burner's abilities will weaken, and the formation in my sea of consciousness will be difficult to further stabilize.
I need the blood essence of higher-grade demonic beasts.
Wen Tan's gaze sharpened, a spark of resolve flashing in his eyes.
If I want to grow stronger quickly, I must undergo real combat training and cultivate combat techniques against demonic beasts.
Only stronger demonic beasts… can take me farther down this path of cultivation.
At this moment, there was only one thought in his mind: to become stronger, he needed real combat. But he also understood clearly entering the wilderness to hunt demonic beasts, even first-rank ones, was extremely dangerous. One misstep, and his body would be left to rot in the mountains.
I can't risk my life blindly… if I want to improve quickly, I must prepare thoroughly.
He began listing the tasks in his mind one by one:
First, he had to obtain combat techniques. Relying solely on brute force, he would be easily trapped by agile demonic beasts and have little chance of survival.
Second, he needed a nimble movement technique suited to him. Otherwise, no matter how strong he became, he would still struggle to escape a beast's fangs. If he couldn't win, he needed at least to run.
Finally, he had to properly arrange his duties at the Fire Slaughter Hall. He couldn't just disappear without explanation otherwise, it would be difficult to justify his absence when he returned.
His eyes shone with determination.
My first step… is to go to the Outer Sect's Scripture Pavilion and borrow cultivation manuals.
The Scripture Pavilion housed countless cultivation methods, movement arts, and combat techniques for outer disciples. Though it couldn't compare to the Inner Sect's resources, to a menial disciple it was an invaluable treasure trove.
However, he was only a menial disciple and had no right to enter. Then he suddenly thought of Elder Chu who had seniority and connections there. If Elder Chu agreed to vouch for him, all he needed was to report his name.
With that thought, Wen Tan quickened his pace, excitement stirring in his heart. He knew that once he stepped into the Scripture Pavilion, a new chapter of his path would unfold.
Today, the area in front of the Scripture Pavilion was unusually crowded. From afar, he could already hear lively discussions among menial and outer disciples alike.
Some gathered to debate the techniques they were cultivating, while others boasted about newly learned movement arts.
A skinny, poorly dressed menial disciple named He Ren spoke loudly:
"I heard that the Fire Spirit Art on the third floor is extremely powerful. It's often chosen by cultivators with fire-attribute spiritual roots fast cultivation speed and incredibly violent fire attributes!".
Another, a chubby man named Jin Wusheng, snorted:
"Powerful? It's just a mid-grade Yellow-rank technique. It's fine against second-rank demonic beasts, but if you cultivate it further, it damages the body. In the later stages, it's useless trash. I've got my eye on the Wind-Stepping Art instead."
The surrounding outer disciples burst into laughter, some mocking openly:
"Wind-Stepping Art? A low-level technique like that will only waste your time. Typical ignorance from menial disciples."
Laughter erupted, but was soon drowned out by a mysterious whisper from a corner:
"I've heard there are many Yellow-rank techniques stored on the third floor. If someone could be led up there to borrow one… that would be a tremendous opportunity."
At that, Wen Tan's eyes flickered slightly but he said nothing. He quietly passed through the crowd, heading toward the massive red-sandalwood doors of the Scripture Pavilion.
The doors were carved with dragons and phoenixes, guarded on either side by two outer disciples in gray robes, their cold gazes sweeping over everyone.
Inside, an ancient aura filled the air. Towering bookshelves were packed with manuals and secret techniques of all kinds. The rules were clear: each outer disciple could choose one technique for free; any additional ones required spirit stones or contribution points.
Wen Tan took a deep breath and stepped forward with resolve.
Right now… I must find a cultivation method suited to my current state.
Leaving behind the noisy chatter of the outer-discipline disciples, Văn Tân quietly ventured deeper into the Scripture Pavilion. Along the corridor paved with bluish stone, a spiraling staircase led downward, its wooden steps worn smooth by the passage of countless years.
He took a deep breath and slowly descended into the basement.
The space before him was entirely different from the upper floor. The light was dim, fine dust drifting lazily through the air, carrying the faint scent of decayed paper and old wood. The four walls bore the scars of time, mottled and cracked, while only a few stone lamps flickered weakly, their pale yellow flames illuminating towering piles of books that reached all the way to the ceiling.
Unlike the orderly solemnity of the first floor, the basement was utterly chaotic.
Cultivation manuals, fragmented secret texts, damaged scrolls everything had been piled together indiscriminately, scattered across the floor like the ashes of a forgotten past. It seemed to be a repository for manuals that no one cared to touch anymore.
Yet amid this disorder, Văn Tân sensed something different an underlying order hidden beneath the chaos. On the walls hung several old wooden plaques, their characters faded but still recognizable:
Cultivation Methods
Techniques
Movement Arts
He brushed the thin layer of dust from a nearby scroll and flipped through a few pages. Though the text was blurred, he could still sense a faint trace of spiritual resonance buried within.
"This place… may be useless to others, but to someone like me who lacks proper knowledge of cultivation it's like a forgotten treasure vault waiting to be discovered. As long as I'm patient, I might find something suitable. And if not, so be it."
His eyes gradually brightened. Unhurried, Văn Tân slowly walked along the rows of books, his gaze sharp as a blade sweeping across each scroll and page, searching for that elusive spark of inspiration as though the black incense burner within his sea of consciousness were quietly guiding him.
Suddenly, he swallowed hard, his gaze locking onto an old stone wall at the end of the passage. Etched faintly upon it were the images of the Five Great Sacred Beasts the Dragon, Tiger, Tortoise, Phoenix, and Qilin. The carvings were blurred by endless years of erosion, yet an ancient aura still lingered within them. Beneath the mural, a few traces of nearly erased characters remained.
A strange, eerie current of air suddenly seeped through the cracks in the stone, sliding along his spine. Văn Tân's heart pounded violently, as if an invisible hand were pulling him forward.
Unable to resist, he reached out and touched the mural.
In an instant, a chilling light wrapped around his body. The world before his eyes shattered like a cracked mirror, and his consciousness was violently dragged downward, plunging into a vortex of endless abyss.
…
When he awoke, all that surrounded him was a deathly stillness an infinite black sky, devoid of moon or stars. His footsteps echoed hollowly through the thick darkness.
Within that void, a deep, muffled sound suddenly resounded, like the heartbeat of heaven and earth itself:
"At last… the successor I have awaited for so long has arrived."
The voice was distant yet impossibly close, echoing beside his ear and sending chills through his body. Driven by curiosity, Văn Tân stepped forward, his footsteps reverberating endlessly through the void.
Gradually, a colossal figure emerged before him a massive spirit beast, its enormous form radiating a faint glow. Its eyes were deep and boundless, as though they contained the very heavens, staring directly at him.
Its voice thundered like rolling lightning:
"You have come…"
"The one I have waited for… the one who may receive our inheritance. Come closer."
At the same time, chains shimmering with dark light slowly materialized from the shadows, tightly binding the limbs of the beast. Each link was as thick as an arm, engraved with ancient runes and emanating a sinister, oppressive killing intent.
Now its form became clear a colossal white tiger, its fur pure as snow, its stripes etched in golden light. Each breath it exhaled was icy cold, like frost pouring from its nostrils.
Suddenly, Văn Tân felt his body stiffen. Though his feet moved forward step by step, he had no control over them. A bewitching force tugged at his soul, dragging it toward the tiger's chilling gaze.
A sinister light flashed in the beast's eyes. Before Văn Tân could react, it let out a roar that shook the void itself and lunged forward, jaws wide open, violent aura surging as it sought to devour his soul and seize his body to break free from its chains.
At that critical moment, deep within Văn Tân's sea of consciousness, the black incense burner suddenly trembled violently. The golden patterns etched upon it blazed with light, releasing a mysterious force that shattered the enchantment.
In the instant of mortal danger, the incense burner erupted with dazzling brilliance. The golden patterns ignited simultaneously, releasing a blinding beam of light.
That light took form a Six-Clawed True Dragon, its massive body clad in silver scales that shimmered like liquid mercury, each scale reflecting profound golden radiance. The dragon coiled through the void, its overwhelming presence causing the entire space to tremble.
"SUPPRESS!"
The dragon's roar thundered through the sea of consciousness like a heavenly clap, instantly shattering the dark mist that bound Văn Tân's mind. The soul-binding chains around the white tiger clattered violently as the beast was forced back several zhang, its claws raking the void to steady itself.
The domineering aura of the Dragon race spread outward, crushing down upon the tiger and forcing it to arch its back and snarl in fury. Though cold light flickered in its eyes, it dared not advance, retreating instead into the shadows, leaving behind a muffled, threatening growl.
Văn Tân stood frozen in the void, cold sweat pouring down his forehead. He could sense an invisible connection linking him to the True Dragon both protecting him and testing him.
The dragon's roar still echoed as its colossal form charged straight at the white tiger.
Dragon and tiger collided, their auras crashing together in a violent upheaval. The tiger roared, its body streaking through the darkness like a silver arrow, claws slashing forward. The six-clawed dragon twisted gracefully, its silver talons crashing down in response, the impact booming like thunder.
Waves of energy tore through the void, shattering phantom lights as the entire space shook violently. Gritting his teeth, Văn Tân struggled to remain standing amid the storm of spiritual power, his heart pounding wildly.
The battle raged for what felt like an eternity. Each moment was like a blade hanging over his head. At last, the white tiger let out a strangled roar, its massive body staggering before collapsing. The True Dragon, its body riddled with glowing cracks, forced itself forward, clamping its silver claws tightly around the dying beast.
A thunderous voice resounded within the sea of consciousness:
"Enter seal!"
A beam of light shot forth from the dragon's claws, enveloping the white tiger. Both massive figures were dragged toward the pitch-black incense burner floating in midair. In an instant, they dissolved into streams of light and vanished into the burner, leaving behind newly formed golden patterns trembling on its surface, as though it were breathing.
Silence returned.
Văn Tân stood motionless, his palms drenched in sweat. He could sense a foreign yet steady aura slumbering within the incense burner part of the white tiger's soul sealed inside, while the True Dragon had fallen into deep sleep to heal its wounds.
As the final light within his sea of consciousness faded, a crushing pain slammed into his mind like a thousand hammers. His spirit shook violently before everything went black.
He had no time for further thought. His body felt as though it were plunging into an endless abyss, his consciousness severed completely.
In the real world, within the basement of the Scripture Pavilion, a figure let out a faint groan. Xiao Zhuo, a menial disciple with some connections to Elder Chu who had been allowed to work there, heard the noise while cleaning decayed books nearby and hurried over.
"Senior Brother Văn Tân? Why are you lying here?"
Panicked, Xiao Zhuo quickly supported his limp body. Seeing Văn Tân's face pale as paper and his breathing shallow, his anxiety deepened.
Muttering to himself, Xiao Zhuo hoisted him onto his shoulder and rushed out of the basement.
"He must've suffered backlash while cultivating a technique…
Please don't let anything happen! I'll take you back to your room and have Elder Chu take a look. He's been in the sect for years if anyone has experience, it's him."
Outside, dusk had just fallen over the sect courtyard, stretching the unsteady shadows of the two figures as they left the Scripture Pavilion. The evening wind was gentle, the sky dyed crimson, utterly unaware that beneath the calm surface, a terrifying undercurrent had just surged within the sea of consciousness of an unknown menial disciple.