Crimson Research Institute.
Inside Training Room No. 1, beads of sweat rolled down Feng Qi's forehead, his pale skin flushed red from the intensity of his training.
"Yes, yes, Shi-gong, don't worry. I will definitely study hard and fully cooperate with the Crimson Research Institute's technique testing experiment."
After making a "sincere" promise, he ended Bai Fusheng's call.
Setting his phone aside, he resumed his stance before the wooden training post, fists clenched, continuing his striking practice.
To determine whether he could control his spiritual medium within his other self's mental sea and merge with his innate abilities, Feng Qi had already outlined his training plan.
His schedule included:
Daily meditation to strengthen his spiritual connection with his alternate self.
Training Fist Momentum.
If he mastered Fist Momentum in the Sacrifice Line, it would greatly enhance his other self's combat power as well.
With each punch, sweat dripped from his body, soaking the floor beneath him.
According to the cultivation archives, training Momentum followed several key characteristics.
The first step in cultivating Momentum was finding one that suited his fighting style.
Even if two people wielded the same weapon, their Momentum characteristics could be completely different.
For example, Lü Yue's Sword Momentum was divided into three types:
Sharp Sword Momentum – Focused on offense.
Blunt Sword Momentum – Focused on defense.
Split Sword Momentum – A balanced mix of both.
Lü Yue had clearly chosen Sharp Sword Momentum—once activated, a domain of interwoven sword energy would manifest, cutting everything in its path.
Other types of Momentum functioned in similar ways.
Thus, the first step in training Momentum was establishing a precise self-positioning.
For Feng Qi, there was zero hesitation in this choice.
His combat style was never suited for defensive counterattacks or balanced combat. He only knew how to press forward relentlessly.
The only Momentum that suited him was one that embodied absolute, unstoppable aggression.
After making his choice, the next step was to comprehend his own Fist Intent.
Continuous fist strikes were meant to nurture the essence of his punches.
Every punch he threw had to be imbued with an unwavering force of will.
Only then could he forge the raw, dominant essence of Fist Momentum.
As he delved into Momentum training, he finally understood why Lü Yue's Sword Wave never struck humans.
The reason was simple—Lü Yue cultivated Sharp Sword Momentum.
Every sword strike in his training had to be executed as a near-fatal blow, and it was through this process that he developed his unstoppable sword intent.
Once he drew his sword, Sword Momentum dictated that he couldn't retract it easily.
The same principle applied to Fist Momentum.
Every punch had to be thrown with absolute conviction—even if an unbreakable mountain stood in his way, he had to punch forward without hesitation.
Even the slightest moment of doubt would shatter the essence of his punches.
Hesitation was the path to defeat.
It was like how martial artists had to nurture a streak of cruelty in their hearts—the first phase of training Fist Intent was about building an unstoppable aura through relentless punches.
This Momentum would continue to solidify until it eventually formed an oppressive Fist Field around him.
As he kept punching, Feng Qi envisioned himself in Blood Source Form, throwing unstoppable punches.
His mindset shifted as the training progressed.
Only when his fists were bloodied and torn open did he finally stop.
Panting heavily, he wiped the sweat dripping down his forehead, then walked toward the recovery chamber.
One hour later.
After completing his physical recovery, Feng Qi changed into a martial arts uniform and sat before his Jade Statue, beginning his meditation training to deepen his spiritual connection.
He lost track of time in the process.
When he opened his eyes again, exhaustion flickered in his gaze.
However, this wasn't physical fatigue—it was mental exhaustion.
Rising to his feet, he returned to the special wooden post.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, adjusting his mental state.
Moments later, his fist struck forward once more, resuming his Fist Momentum training.
The soaked martial arts uniform, drenched in sweat, stood as a testament to his effort and perseverance.
Even in the Sacrifice Line, he refused to dim his own light.
Day after day, time passed.
In the blink of an eye, two months had gone by.
Every day, apart from eating and sleeping, Feng Qi had devoted himself completely to training.
That day, Feng Qi continued his Fist Momentum training as usual.
As he gathered power, his right fist swung toward the specialized wooden post.
Suddenly, he felt a strange sensation—as if something deep within him was incubating, finally breaking free.
The punch flowed effortlessly, as if there was no air resistance at all, crashing straight into the post.
Before his fist even made contact, a faint crimson glow emerged on its surface, then detached from his hand, transforming into a fiery red fist shadow that slammed into the wooden post.
"Crack!"
A crisp sound echoed as a clear fist imprint was left behind.
Staring at the imprint, Feng Qi grinned.
He knew he had succeeded.
Training Fist Momentum aligned perfectly with his mindset.
Having experienced countless battles where he had pressed forward without hesitation, he understood what it truly meant to have an unyielding spirit.
However, what surprised him was that it had only taken two months for him to nurture a formidable Fist Momentum.
He closed his eyes.
Although Fist Intent couldn't be perceived with spiritual awareness, he could sense it—a flickering flame burning in his chest.
This flame was the embodiment of his Fist Intent—a manifestation of his battle will.
Opening his eyes, a ferocious gleam flashed within them.
He struck again.
There was no need to consciously think about it—his punch and mindset naturally aligned.
A crimson aura gathered around his fist, forming seamlessly, just like Lü Yue's Sword Aura.
The fist projection detached from his arm, slamming into the wooden post with immense force.
The specialized wooden post, forged from high-density domain material, had a C-rank durability rating.
Yet under his Fist Projection, wooden splinters flew in all directions, leaving a deep and defined fist imprint.
Feng Qi clenched his fists, exhilarated.
He had finally entered the threshold of Fist Momentum.
Though he was still far from achieving Lü Yue's mastery, where Momentum could be freely unleashed, it was still a significant step forward—a breakthrough from zero to one.
Stepping back from the wooden post, he focused on the Fist Intent burning in his chest.
He threw a rapid series of punches, each infused with his growing Momentum.
Immediately, multiple fist projections shot forward, smashing into the wooden post.
In an instant, the post was reduced to fragments, breaking apart from top to bottom.
Having experienced the true power of Fist Momentum, Feng Qi's enthusiasm soared.
Glancing at his bruised and scarred hands, then at the now-destroyed wooden post, he couldn't help but smile.
At that moment, a broadcast played from the overhead speakers.
Wei Wei's voice echoed through the training hall:
"Caught in the act! Due to Feng Qi's intentional destruction of training equipment, please report to the Crimson Research Institute's conference room to pay the fine."
Feng Qi: …
Realizing that the Crimson Institute's leadership was looking for him, he headed toward the shower area.
After a quick rinse, he pulled a fresh martial arts uniform from his locker and changed.
Exiting the training hall, he walked straight toward the institute's conference room.
Moments later, he arrived at the entrance of the Crimson Institute's core conference room.
After passing multiple security scans, he changed into signal-blocking attire, then stepped inside.
The conference room had a high-tech aesthetic—a blend of deep blue and black, illuminated by soft blue lighting.
It wasn't particularly large, with a black metallic circular conference table at the center.
Seated around the table were Wei Wei and the other senior members of the Crimson Research Institute.
Taking his seat, Feng Qi raised his head and looked toward the Institute's Director.
The Crimson Institute's Director, an elderly man with snow-white hair, spoke first:
"Now that everyone's here, let's begin the meeting. First, let me explain the reason for this gathering."
"These past few days, I had Xiao Wei use Feng Qi's remaining blood and mental residue to create another Jade Statue. That statue is now placed in my office."
"With continuous effort, I have also established a spiritual connection with it…"
Hearing this, Feng Qi's eyes widened in shock.
He hadn't expected the Crimson Institute's Director to also establish a spiritual connection with his alternate self through faith.
But upon reflection, it wasn't entirely surprising.
There was something the Director had once told him, a statement that had deeply resonated.
During a previous Crimson Research Institute meeting, while discussing the Dawn Organization, the Director had told him:
"The Dawn banner raised 1,500 years in the future is more than a symbol—it is a spiritual legacy. We of the Crimson Research Institute are also part of Dawn. We will always stand behind you, unwavering in our support on your path to saving humanity."
That moment made it clear how much faith the Director had in him.
Just like Wei Wei, the Director had placed the entire future on his shoulders.
The many sacrifices made across different timelines were proof of this commitment.
Even though Wei Wei was just a department head and couldn't make all the decisions alone, the Director had also silently contributed in the background.
Thinking about this, Feng Qi's gaze softened, a rare trace of emotion flashing through his eyes.
At that moment, the Director continued speaking.
The Crimson Institute's Director continued speaking, his voice steady and deliberate:
"This meeting was called because I have a proposition. If Feng Qi eventually proves that he can freely integrate another version of his talent through spiritual connection, then perhaps we too can harness his abilities by placing our faith in him."
"For example, he once mentioned the Infinite Memory talent. If Feng Qi successfully acquires it, then through faith-based linkage, we might be able to access a portion of that ability ourselves."
"This would be an immense breakthrough for our research, significantly enhancing our efficiency."
"Beyond that, talents that improve cognitive activity, or those that boost creativity, could accelerate our research progress by leaps and bounds."
"The purpose of this meeting is to discuss which talents should be retained if this method proves feasible, rather than being dismantled."
As the Director finished speaking, Feng Qi immediately grasped the implications.
The crux of the idea was simple—if borrowing abilities was viable, then those who had faith in him could also benefit.
For the Crimson Institute's researchers, combat-oriented talents weren't a priority. After all, in future timelines, they wouldn't be fighting on the battlefield themselves.
But intelligence-enhancing abilities—those were invaluable.
In the previous sacrifice timeline, it had taken the Crimson Institute over a thousand years to develop just two virtual domain replicas.
Feng Qi had personally experienced these domain fields and knew how painstakingly precise they were.
Even the smallest detail, like a blade of grass, was near-perfectly replicated.
Despite their monumental effort, creating those two domains had stretched the Crimson Institute to its limit.
And this was without accounting for all the other major projects they had to manage.
If the Director's hypothesis proved correct, then acquiring talents like Infinite Memory would be akin to increasing the intelligence of every researcher at the Crimson Institute.
Over a thousand years, this would lead to exponential growth in technological advancements.
Moreover, other research fields would likely see significant breakthroughs as well.
Perhaps new discoveries—ones they hadn't even considered before—would emerge.
After all, sometimes genius-level inspiration was just one step away, and all that was needed was a slight increase in intelligence to bridge the gap.
Ultimately, the Director's goal was clear:
He wanted all researchers at the Crimson Institute to place their faith in Feng Qi, not just for personal benefit, but to contribute to his cause.
A discussion broke out among the Crimson Institute's senior members, debating the merits of the proposal.
Listening to their conversation, Feng Qi made up his mind.
Going forward, if he encountered talents that enhanced cognitive abilities, he would keep them instead of feeding them to Sanwei for deconstruction.
Such support-type abilities would positively impact the entire institute, especially over the course of a thousand years.
The longer the timeline, the greater the effect.
When the meeting concluded, Feng Qi and Wei Wei left together.
Returning to Training Room One, he immediately resumed high-intensity training.
His Fist Momentum had reached the entry-level, but it was still rudimentary.
There was a vast gap between his current state and the level where he could form his own Fist Momentum Domain.
There was still a long way to go.
Each strike strengthened his Fist Intent.
Physical endurance was secondary—what truly mattered was mental refinement.
Only through relentless tempering could he forge an unbreakable Fist Intent.
His knuckles had split open countless times, healing only to be torn open again, forming hardened calluses—only for them to be worn away once more.
But the pain meant nothing to Feng Qi.
He had endured far worse across multiple timelines:
The agony of wielding a blade against his own kind.
The torment of his body rotting away during biochemical modifications.
The despair of being condemned as a traitor and executed on the gallows.
The heartbreak of watching Wei Wei, Lin Ran, and Li Xingchen sacrifice themselves for their ideals.
Compared to those experiences, mere physical pain was meaningless.
It was nothing more than a whetstone, sharpening his resolve.
His fists pounded the wooden post relentlessly.
Sweat, blood, and splinters flew through the air.
His eyes remained steadfast.
Every punch was thrown with everything he had.
Every punch was a step forward, unwavering.
He could feel his mindset aligning perfectly with his Dominating Fist Momentum.
It was just like his journey toward a glorious future—a path that required him to keep moving forward, no matter what stood in his way.
Even if a mountain blocked his path, he would shatter it and forge ahead.
Through his intense training, he noticed something crucial.
None of the negative side effects described in the official records appeared.
According to historical data, training Momentum often led to severe drawbacks:
Mental exhaustion
Spiritual instability
Weakened cognition
Yet, instead of suffering from those symptoms, Feng Qi felt his spirit rejuvenating.
This proved something important:
The problem wasn't in the Momentum training itself—it was in whether the cultivator's mindset was compatible with their chosen Momentum.
If one's Momentum didn't align with their personality and beliefs, they would suffer spiritual backlash.
But if the Momentum was a perfect match, it would become a source of strength.
Feeling the Fist Intent blaze within him, Feng Qi knew his power was steadily increasing.
A sense of elation filled him.
Training Fist Momentum wasn't just about combat power.
It was a validation of his path.
Every punch was a confirmation of his resolve.
Then—
Crack!
At that moment, as his mindset reached new heights, his punch projection erupted involuntarily.
With a single strike, he shattered the reinforced wooden post.
The shockwave carried forward, slamming into a metallic wall in the distance—leaving behind a deep, unmistakable fist imprint.
Seeing this, Feng Qi smiled.
At that moment—
His Fist Intent advanced once again.