NOVPUBThe clash of battle rang through the morning air.
Wang Jun’s blade arced toward me in a clean, decisive strike—one that would have forced me to retreat just days ago. But I didn’t retreat.
I stepped in.
His wooden sword came down in a sharp, calculated arc, aiming for my ribs. My instincts flared, old habits whispering at me to evade, to avoid risking an exchange. But something had changed.
I shifted my weight, my good hand snapping up.
The moment Wang Jun’s blade entered my range, I twisted my wrist and parried it downward with a closed fist, letting the force dissipate against my forearm. His stance faltered for just a breath, his weight shifting slightly off-balance.
I bent my wrist downward, like a crane's neck, and pulled my strike just before it could connect with his chin. Parrying and countering with a single move.
“Again?” He rubbed his chin with a scowl. “I haven’t slacked off once, and I’m still getting beaten like a dog.”
I exhaled, shaking out my hand, feeling the faint sting of impact from parrying the sword. A quiet satisfaction settled in my chest.
Because this wouldn't have happened before.
Before, I would have dodged. Before, I would have hesitated. Before, I wouldn’t have dared step into the space of a blade so confidently.
But when you’ve faced the claws of a demonic cultivator, dripping with writhing, corrosive qi—a wooden sword feels almost laughable in comparison.
I rolled my shoulder, feeling the tension in my bound arm, a reminder of my limits. I wasn’t at full strength, not yet. And I knew better than to let pride fool me into thinking I was invincible.
Elder Ming chuckled, his voice carrying the familiar warmth of amusement, but something about the way he looked at me felt different.
“You’ve made great strides,” he said. “More than I expected. But...”
He trailed off.
I caught it immediately. “What is it?”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
I frowned but didn’t push. Elder Ming wasn’t the type to speak his thoughts unless he was ready.
He exhaled, rubbing his hands together as if brushing something away. “Morning training is finished. You’re both free to go.”
Wang Jun groaned dramatically, stretching his arms behind his head.
I chuckled, wiping sweat from my brow as I turned toward the Soaring Swallow.
There was another major shift in my routine, something unexpected but welcome—I’d been reading more.
It had started because of necessity. My body still needed more rest than usual, which meant fewer physical activities outside of training. But that time wasn’t wasted, because Elder Zhi had been providing me with books.
The Soaring Swallow’s upper floor was quiet when I arrived, many of the refugees still sleeping in the early morning. I knocked on the door at the end of the hall.
"Come in."
I stepped into the dimly lit room, the faint scent of parchment and ink filling the air. Elder Zhi sat where he always did, his expression serene, his hands resting lightly on the table before him.
"The books are over there."
I nodded, stepping forward to take the small stack of books placed neatly on the table.
Another set.
I ran my fingers along the edges of the bindings, feeling the meticulous precision of each page.
These weren’t just any books.
Elder Zhi had explained it to me not long after I woke up—his ability to recreate books from memory, copying down the original contents down to the exact character.
It was something he had done as a way to repay the village, to offer me something in return for the refuge I had helped provide.
But the quality of these books...
I had requested martial arts manuals, whatever he had that I could use to train my stagnant Accelerated Reading skill.
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Instead, I had received something far beyond my expectations.
The texts covered martial philosophy, strategy, formations for group combat, and even deeper insights into the structure of various martial schools—breaking down their core principles in a way that made them digestible, yet clearly written by someone with an expert’s eye.
I looked up at Elder Zhi. He remained as composed as ever, as if none of this was unexpected.
“You remembered all of this?” I asked, my voice carefully neutral.
He smiled slightly. “Books I read long ago,” he said simply. “Ones I remembered well, before I lost my sight.”
Before he lost his sight.
I studied him for a long moment. There was more to him, that much was clear.
But I didn’t press. However, another question popped up in my head.
"Elder Zhi... are you aware of the Heavenly Interface?"
He paused, and nodded. "Yes, I have also received it's gift."
"How do you perceive it, then? With your blindness?
“It is difficult to explain to those who have always seen with their eyes, but… imagine a world where every word is carved into your thoughts, where every stroke of a character is as vivid as if it were painted across the sky. That is what I perceive.”
I frowned, tilting my head slightly. “You mean… it gives you an image?”
Elder Zhi nodded. “Not just an image. It is as though the words are sculpted directly into my mind, each one distinct and absolute. No ink, no parchment, but real nonetheless.”
I let that settle in, glancing at his face. His scarred eyes remained motionless, unseeing, yet there was an awareness to him that had nothing to do with sight.
“Does it feel strange?” I asked.
“It did, at first. But I have lived in darkness for a long time. The Heavenly Interface is simply another way of reading. One that does not rely on what was taken from me.”
I studied him for a moment longer. There was something deeply unshaken about Elder Zhi. Someone who had lost so much, yet spoke of it as if it were nothing more than the turning of a page.
I shook my head. “Thank you, Elder Zhi. For indulging my curiosity.”
“And for the books,” I added, placing a hand on the newly bound texts he had prepared.
He inclined his head. “It is no trouble. I will continue to prepare them for as long as you need.”
I turned to leave, but just as I reached the door, I hesitated.
The venerable elder had returned to his work, his fingers moving carefully over a new manuscript, his expression serene.
I opened my mouth, wanting to say something. But in the end, I simply nodded to myself and stepped out into the hallway, his words still lingering in my mind. I stared down at the books in my hands, and the variety of tools he used to assemble and bind these books together.
More knowledge. More refinement. More ways to grow.
The village had settled into a comfortable rhythm, and so had I. My injuries still limited me, but even with one good arm, I refused to be idle.
As I made my way home, I caught sight of Tianyi surrounded by children, her wings shifting slightly as they reached out, hesitant but fascinated. Windy, coiled beside her, looked utterly miserable as a small girl tugged gently at his tail.
I smirked.
Windy’s suffering was self-inflicted; he could run away at any time. But for all his complaints, he tolerated their presence.
Tianyi, on the other hand, was far more at ease with them than I expected. She leaned down slightly as one of the children whispered something to her, then nodded sagely, as if they had just shared the most profound secret in the world.
I shook my head in amusement and walked past, giving them their space.
I had other things to do.
My greenhouse had always been important to me. But now, it had become something more. A place where I had control, in spite of my injury.
With my abilities improving, I could accelerate the growth of herbs at an astonishing rate. The only limit was how much qi I was willing to expend.
I knelt by the raised beds, exhaling slowly before pressing my palm to the soil.
A steady flow of qi seeped from my hand, spreading beneath the surface. I split my reserves carefully, ensuring that no single plant took too much, balancing the infusion between three key herbs.
Ginseng. The backbone of most restorative elixirs. Jadeleaf Lily. A stabilizer for many pill formulas, preventing volatile reactions.
Last but not least, Golden Bamboo. There was no need to speak on it's effects.
Its stalks thickened, stretching skyward at an accelerated pace, a deep golden hue shimmering beneath the morning light. It had absorbed my qi more aggressively than expected.
I stood, brushing off my sleeve, and turned toward the clearing where Tianyi still sat with the children.
"Tianyi, mind helping me cut some of this down?"
She turned at my call, blinking before shifting slightly on her feet—then pausing.
Ah.
Her wings.
The damage from the demonic qi was still healing.
I grimaced. I should’ve remembered.
“No need,” I muttered, flexing my fingers. “I’ll handle it.”
She tilted her head, as if debating whether to insist. But in the end, she simply nodded.
And so, I did it the hard way.
An hour later, my arm burned.
Even with only one working arm, I cut down and stripped the bamboo, gathering the usable portions and hauling them back to my workshop.
The freshly harvested bamboo shoots gleamed, still rich with the qi they had absorbed.
With careful precision, I began the extraction, pulling out essences and distributing them in several small vials.
The Alchemical Nexus flared to life.
Formations illuminated the air around my pill furnace, intricate runes shifting as I guided the essence through the refining process.
This time, I wasn’t just working with raw bamboo essence. I combined it with a myriad of carefully selected ingredients, adjusting the flow of qi instinctively.
The process felt smoother than ever before; like my body and mind had finally aligned with the act of alchemy itself.
I wasn’t just following a formula.
I was shaping it, refining it.
After an indeterminate amount of time passed, three pills settled in my palm, their surface warm to the touch—Golden Drop pill.
Their potency had diminished due to repeated use, but they still carried a powerful effect. Accelerated healing. Deep nourishment for the body and meridians.
I set two aside for Tianyi and Windy.
And swallowed the last one myself.
Night fell.
I stirred from my cultivation, feeling the lingering warmth of the pill settle deep in my bones. My recovery had taken another leap forward. Despite how severe they were, it wouldn't be long before I'd be fully healed. 𝚗o𝚟pub.𝚌𝚘𝚖
The disciples recovered faster than I expected as well. Some were already resuming patrolling. And among them, I was well aware of those who lost their fingers, permanently affecting their ability to wield a sword. Or one who even lost an eye, blinding him.
But they were alive, and recovering day by day.
Jian Feng had mentioned it in passing, but it was only now, after seeing it firsthand, that I truly began to understand.
'When your body crosses the threshold into the Qi Initiation Stage, it doesn’t just mean an increase in power or speed. It means you are no longer bound by the same limitations as an ordinary human. The human body breaks. It bleeds. It scars. It weakens with time. That is the nature of mortality. But when you step beyond that, when you begin cultivating qi, your body ceases to be bound by those same rules.'
The wounds inflicted by the cultists constantly ate away at our bodies. But with Essence Purifying Elixir, even the most severe injuries would eventually be healed by our internal qi instead of fighting the corrupting effects of demonic energy.
Stretching slightly, I turned toward Tianyi and Windy, who had entered the shop and rested idly by the windowsill.
“Here,” I said, setting down the two remaining pills. “These will help.”
Tianyi took hers without hesitation. Windy sniffed his suspiciously.
“You saw me make them,” I said dryly. “It’s not poison.”
Windy flicked his tongue, then curled around the pill, swallowing it in one swift motion.
I watched as they both settled into meditation, entering their own form of cultivation.
Spirit beasts and humans cultivated differently—they followed instinct, while we followed technique.
I had asked them before how they circulated qi.
Tianyi had only shrugged. And Windy performed his version of a shrug.
"We just do."
Simple as that.
The words lingered in my mind as I settled onto my cot, staring at the ceiling.
We just do.
Was it really that simple?
I let out a slow breath, my body still thrumming with the lingering warmth of the Golden Drop Pill. My recovery had accelerated, my meridians strengthening with each cycle of qi that pulsed through me.
Even with that knowledge, doubt gnawed at me.
How strong is strong enough?
I had fought and survived a battle that should have killed me. I had pushed beyond my limits, honed my skills, and carved a path forward. But it still felt like I was standing at the base of an endless mountain, the peak obscured in the clouds above.
Essence Awakening? Spirit Ascension? Earthly Transcendence?
What would it take? What threshold would make the difference?
I clenched my fist.
The battle had changed me. That much was clear. But it had also left something behind; a weight that pressed down on me both physically and mentally, even in the quiet of the night.
The demonic cultivators were still out there. There was no telling what they'd do.
The thought sent a chill through me, one that had nothing to do with the cold air seeping through the cracks in the window.
I exhaled sharply, rubbing at my temples. No answers would come tonight. Only more questions.
Instead, I focused on what I could do.
