In the shadowed valleys of the Crimson Fang Sect, where spirit beasts howled under blood-red moons and qi storms ravaged the peaks, Fang Yu Zhao knelt in the mud-choked training pits. Torrential rain hammered his tattered outer disciple robes, turning the ground to a slurry of blood and spirit beast viscera. His meridians screamed, qi circulation stalled like a clogged vein. At sixteen winters, he was no heaven-blessed prodigy—just cannon fodder, an outer disciple scraping by on pity rations and stolen scraps.
*Weakness is a chain forged in mediocrity,* Fang Yu Zhao thought, his callused fingers digging into the filth. *Snap it, or let it drag you to the grave.*
The sect's orthodox foundational art, *Iron Vein Tempering Technique*, demanded a pure spirit root to awaken the dantian and ignite Qi Condensation. Fang Yu Zhao's was a joke: low-grade earth attribute, impure as alley sludge from his beggar birth. Peers flaunted fire, thunder, or wood roots, guzzling spirit stones to shatter bottlenecks in mere months. He? Three grinding years at the peak of Body Tempering Ninth Layer, his dantian a desiccated husk mocking every breath.
A feral sneer curled his thin lips. *They call me Beggar Fang, spit on my shadow. Let the insects buzz. Ignorance blinds the strong.*
He inhaled sharply, veins bulging as he forced qi from his last low-grade spirit stone—pilfered from Senior Brother Wang Lei's pouch amid the chaos of yesterday's outer disciple skirmish. Agony erupted: flesh splitting, bones grinding like tectonic plates. Hallucinations clawed his mind—flashes of refuse heaps in the mortal city of Yunxi, where sect scouts had dredged him up as an infant, jade pendant clutched in tiny fists. No family sigil. No lineage. Just potential, they said. *Potential for what? The slaughter pits?*
The pendant throbbed now, hot against sweat-slick skin. No mere bauble. During last month's beast tide—a rampage of Core Formation demon wolves—it had drunk deep of a slain alpha's essence, unlocking forbidden knowledge. Not the sect's tepid *Iron Vein*. This was *Devouring Phantom Meridian*, a lost demonic art from shattered immortal realms. It twisted meridians into abyssal voids, feeding on pain, slaughter, and plundered qi. Heresy to elders. Salvation to him.
*Orthodoxy?* Fang Yu Zhao's eyes burned with predatory glee. *It props up fools' thrones. I devour thrones.*
Qi roared through his channels, ravenous. The spirit stone crumbled to dust, its essence inhaled like prey. Marrow liquefied, recasting from within. His spirit root convulsed—dull earth tones darkening to obsidian shadow, veined with phantom hunger. A rift tore open in his dantian.
**Ding!**
An ethereal panel shimmered in his sea of consciousness, the pendant's legacy—a "system" echo from fallen worlds.
**[Breakthrough Achieved: Qi Condensation Layer 1.]**
**[Spirit Root Mutation: Earth (Mundane, Low-Grade) → Shadow Devour (Mutated, High-Grade). Devour efficiency: 150%.]**
**[Art Integrated: Devouring Phantom Meridian (Nascent Stage). Risk: Qi Deviation 47%. Suppress with slaughter.]**
**[Host Status: Vitality 82/100. Qi Reserves: 210/500. Warning: Foundation volatile—reinforce or implode.]**
Fang Yu Zhao barked a laugh, crimson spittle flecking his chin. Volatile? *Exquisite.* Stability chained immortals to mediocrity. He rose, mud shedding like old skin. Power thrummed—fists clenched, shadows coiling unbidden around his form. A nearby Moonbloom herb, guarded for outer disciple quotas, shriveled instantly, its scant qi siphoned into his voids.
Footsteps churned the mire. Three silhouettes loomed: Wang Lei, the flame-haired bully at Qi Condensation Third Layer, flanked by sycophants Chen Hu and Liu Mei—Second Layer weaklings with middling metal roots.
"Beggar Fang!" Wang Lei bellowed, qi flames licking his palms. "Elder Zhang's tribute round starts at dawn. Fork over your contribution points—or we'll temper your bones ourselves."
Fang Yu Zhao met their gazes, expression a mask of bored disdain. Wang Lei's fire root burned bright, fed by nepotism and pilfered resources. *Prey scent hangs thick.*
"Points?" His voice slithered, cold as abyss wind. "Take them. If your spine holds."
Wang Lei's face twisted in fury. "Insolent cur!" A fireball erupted, fist-sized, hurtling with Third Layer might—enough to char Body Tempering fools to ash.
Fang Yu Zhao stood immobile. From his meridians, a phantom maw yawned—intangible, ravenous. The fireball winked out, essence unraveled and swallowed. Wang Lei staggered, complexion ashen as his qi drained through spectral threads linking their dantians.
"Devil art! What—" Wang Lei clawed at his chest, flames guttering.
Fang Yu Zhao lunged, *Phantom Claw* manifesting: palm wreathed in shadow talons. It pierced Wang Lei's guard, raking his dantian. A wet *pop* echoed. Qi flooded out, a crimson torrent devoured whole.
**[Essence Plundered: Fire Qi (Third Layer) – 320 units. Conversion Efficiency: 92%. Qi Reserves: 530/700.]**
Wang Lei gurgled, collapsing into twitching meat. Chen Hu and Liu Mei bolted, qi flaring for desperate flight.
*No witnesses.*
Fang Yu Zhao blurred forward, shadows propelling him like demonic wings. Chen Hu's metal saber swung wild—shattered against phantom claws. Fang Yu Zhao's fingers plunged into the man's throat, meridians rupturing as qi hemorrhaged into the void.
Liu Mei screamed, hurling poison needles. They dissolved mid-air, essence claimed. A backhand strike caved her skull, dantian imploding in a spray of blood qi.
**[Triple Kill Bonus: +200 units. Qi Condensation Layer 1 → Peak. Trait Awakened: Ruthless Devourer (Plunder +20%, Intimidation Aura Unlocked).]**
Silence fell, rain washing gore. Fang Yu Zhao looted: three mid-grade spirit stones, a *Blood Tempering Pill* (Second Layer booster), and Wang Lei's flame-etched token—proof of inner disciple recommendation. He swallowed the pill raw, qi surging as shadows writhed, forming illusory wolves that savaged phantom foes in his mind's eye.
*This is dao,* he reflected, cross-legged amid corpses. *Not heaven's harmony. Heaven's devouring.*
Refinement complete, he hit **Qi Condensation Layer 2**. The pendant pulsed, unveiling a map fragment: *Abyssal Ruins* beneath the sect's Forbidden Peak, brimming with nascent soul inheritances. Guarded by elder formations. Tempting.
But dawn neared. The Outer Ascension Trials—monthly meat grinder for inner disciple spots. Eighty entrants, ten survivors. Geniuses with golden cores, sect elders presiding. Fang Yu Zhao smirked. *Let them come. Marrow awaits.*
***
### The Trials of Crimson Fang
Sunrise bled over jagged peaks as outer disciples gathered in the Grand Pit Arena—a colossal crater ringed by spectator pavilions. Bleachers overflowed with inner disciples and elders, qi veils muffling their sneers.
Fang Yu Zhao arrived last, Wang Lei's token tucked away. Bruises from "training mishaps" masked his breakthrough aura—Layer 2 suppressed to First via phantom arts.
Elder Zhang, a grizzled Golden Core veteran with a scarred face, boomed from the dais: "Eighty fodder enter. Ten claim inner glory. Fail, and feed the beasts below. Begin!"
Barriers snapped up, dividing the pit into eight zones. Fang Yu Zhao drew Zone 3: ten disciples, plus spirit beasts teleported in—Ironhide Boars at Body Tempering Ninth, qi-infused tusks gleaming.
Chaos erupted. Sabers flashed, arts clashed. A wood-root girl summoned vines; a spear user impaled a boar. Fang Yu Zhao hung back, shadows cloaking him.
First kill: a cocky Second Layer boy, *Thunder Palm* arcing wide. Phantom Maw devoured it mid-strike, youth's dantian emptying. He crumpled, eyes vacant.
**[Plunder: Thunder Qi – 180 units.]**
Boars rampaged. One charged Fang Yu Zhao, tusks like battering rams. He sidestepped, claw sinking into flank. Beast essence flooded in—wild, potent.
The zone thinned: eight, five, three. Final foes: twin brothers, Fourth Layer fire cultivators, brothers of Wang Lei.
"You! Where's our kin?" The elder snarled, twin flames roaring.
Fang Yu Zhao's lips curved. "Feeding my meridians."
Battle ignited. Flames blanketed the zone, scorching earth. Fang Yu Zhao danced through, shadows extinguishing blazes, plundering wisps. A claw feinted left, true strike raking the younger's chest—dantian harvested.
The elder roared grief, unleashing *Crimson Fang Burst*—suicide art exploding qi in a fiery nova.
Fang Yu Zhao laughed, maw yawning wide. The blast inverted, fueling his voids.
**[Plunder Complete. Layer 2 → Mid. Zone Victory.]**
Barriers fell. Elder Zhang's gaze pierced: "Fang Yu Zhao, Zone 3 sole survivor. Advance."
Murmurs rippled. *Beggar Fang? How?*
***
### Shadows in the Pavilion
Intermission in the recovery pavilions. Fang Yu Zhao meditated, refining spoils. **Layer 3** stabilized, aura leaking faint intimidation—lesser disciples paled nearby.
A shadow fell: Senior Sister Li Xue, inner disciple beauty at Foundation Establishment Early, ice root prodigy. Raven hair, robes hugging lethal curves. Wang Lei's betrothed.
"You reek of his qi," she hissed, frost qi coiling. "Murderer."
Fang Yu Zhao opened one eye. *Rival? Pawn?* Her beauty hid ambition—rumors of her devouring male disciples' essences for dual cultivation gains.
"Proof?" He rose slowly, shadows stirring.
Her palm struck—*Frostbite Seal*. Cold invaded, freezing meridians.
He countered with phantom threads, siphoning her qi. She gasped, cheeks flushing—not just cold.
"Thief!" But intrigue flickered. "What art is this? Join my pavilion. Power. Resources."
Tempting. Her backing could unlock ruins access. But trust? *She devours too.*
"Perhaps," he murmured. "After trials."
She departed, eyes narrowed. Ally or blade?
***
### Apex of the Pit
Final round: ten victors in the central pit. Beasts escalated—Qi Condensation Silverback Apes, packs of five. Elders watched, scouting talents.
Opponents: prodigies. Zhao Feng, golden sword root, Layer 5. Mei Ling, illusion wood root, Layer 4. Others, solid but breakable.
Apes rampaged, silver fur qi-barriers shrugging blows. Fang Yu Zhao struck surgically: maw on downed foes, plundering beasts mid-leap.
Zhao Feng targeted him: "Beggar, your tricks end!" *Golden Sword Qi* slashed, mountain-cleaving.
Phantom Claw parried, shadows eroding the blade. Fang Yu Zhao closed, devouring sword intent.
Mei Ling wove illusions—phantom sects crumbling. His ruthless trait pierced veils; claws claimed her core.
Pit ran red. Last ape fell to Fang Yu Zhao's palm, essence boosting him to **Layer 4 Peak**.
Sole survivor.
Elder Zhang descended, appraising. "Fang Yu Zhao... mutated root? Unorthodox. Inner disciple token yours. But watch—devils draw heaven's tribulation."
**[Trial Complete. Rewards: Inner Token, 10 Mid-Grade Stones. Hidden Quest: Infiltrate Ruins – 0/1.]**
Fang Yu Zhao bowed, eyes on Forbidden Peak. *Tribulation? I'll devour it.*
The beggar rose. Crimson Fang Sect, prepare your graves.
*To be continued...*