Three Days Earlier…
Captain Han's face was a study in controlled frustration. The hunt was over, the disciples were gathered at the edge of the Greenfang Forest, but Karma was nowhere to be found. He had questioned every disciple, every guard, and every merchant who had been at the city's gates, but no one had seen him after the group splintered to look for monsters. A wave of irritation and resignation washed over him. He ran away. The thought was both a nuisance and a small, bitter comfort. He had heard the rumors back at the Su Clan—that the mysterious mortal was a "guest" of the young lady, not a disciple, and that his presence was a forced arrangement. Higher-ups had even issued veiled warnings for him to press Karma hard during the hunt.
With a heavy sigh, Captain Han convinced himself that Karma's disappearance was the inevitable result of this arrangement. He gave the order to return to the clan, abandoning the search. The hunt was a success, but losing the boy was a glaring black mark on his record. He spent the journey back rehearsing his explanation for the Patriarch, a mix of half-truths and carefully worded reports.
Present Day
For three days, Karma had been a ghost in the mountains, drifting in and out of consciousness as Mira painstakingly knitted him back together. Now, with the sun warm on his face and the scent of the city on the breeze, a flicker of hope reignited in his heart. The pain in his body was a constant, dull throb, but his steps were steady as he walked the cobblestone road toward the city gates. He had to go back to the inn. It was his only anchor in this world, his only chance to reconnect with the Su Clan. Perhaps they had waited for him. He clung to the foolish hope that Su Liana, despite her cold demeanor, wouldn't have abandoned him in a world he knew nothing about.
The familiar scent of spiced meat and sizzling oil welcomed him as he passed through the gates. He navigated the bustling streets, his eyes scanning for any sign of a familiar face, until he reached the inn where the Su Clan group had stayed. The innkeeper, a plump, jovial man with a friendly smile, shook his head sadly when Karma asked about the group.
"They left three days ago, young man. On the dot," he said, his smile turning sympathetic. "No one came back looking for you. Are you a friend of theirs?"
Karma's shoulders slumped. The hope, a fragile thing to begin with, shattered. He mumbled a quiet "no" and turned away, the words "abandoned" and "alone" echoing in his mind. The feeling was a sharp, bitter disappointment. He was a piece of luggage, a mistake that had been left behind. The promise of protection, of a future, was gone.
He recalled the market he had visited before the hunt, a maze of small shops selling and buying all kinds of strange materials. With nowhere else to go, he dragged his weary body there, clutching the few plants and herbs he had instinctively plucked from the forest during his brief time inside. He didn't know their value, their purpose, or even what they were called. He just knew they were alive with spiritual energy.
He went from shop to shop, his battered appearance drawing sympathetic or suspicious glances. Most of the owners waved him away, uninterested in the common herbs of a novice. But at a small, cluttered shop on the edge of the market, a kind, elderly woman with a face like a dried plum took a long, appraising look at his wares.
"A few days in the woods, eh?" she said, her voice a soft, knowing rasp. Her eyes, as she examined the herbs, were as sharp as any cultivator's. She separated a few of the more potent ones and paid him with two small silver coins. "This will be enough for two days' lodging in a small inn up the street," she said, her tone firm but not unkind.
Karma's heart swelled with gratitude. It wasn't much, but it was a lifeline. He thanked her profusely, a silent vow forming in his mind to return to her with any valuable finds in the future. He followed her directions to the small inn. It was clean and unassuming, a welcome retreat from the bustle of the city and the recent, terrifying solitude of the forest. He paid for a day, entered his room, and locked the door.
He slumped onto the bed, the disappointment still a heavy weight in his chest. But as he lay there, another feeling began to rise, one that was far more powerful than his sadness: a cold, hard resolve. He had been a pampered guest, then a prisoner, and now, a castaway. But he was not helpless. He now had a powerful cultivation technique he obtained from the green ball. He would use it. He would get stronger.
Closing his eyes, he sat in a meditative posture, drawing on the memory of the cosmic temple. The words of the divine scripture, a perfect truth etched into his soul, began to unfold. Unlike his old method, which was a frenzied, chaotic storm of consumption of energy using his devour skill, the new technique was a guided, systematic process. It wasn't about brute force; it was about precision and harmony. The spiritual energy in the air was no longer a choking, overwhelming torrent but a calm, flowing river.
His body, still aching from its recent ordeal, absorbed the energy with a desperate hunger. It was like a parched desert drinking in the rain. Every cell, every bruised muscle, every fractured bone cried out for more. The new cultivation technique acted as a masterful guide, not just directing the energy but actively opening his meridians. He felt a soft pop as a channel that had been stubbornly blocked before finally opened, followed by another, and another. It wasn't painful, just a gentle, insistent pressure that felt like the uncoiling of a tight spring.
The chakras that his Devour skill had forcibly connected now had a proper, established path to follow, and the spiritual energy flowed smoothly, interconnecting every part of his being like a nervous system. The speed of his cultivation was unlike anything he had ever imagined. The pain he used to feel was gone, replaced by a profound sense of peace and tranquility. It felt less like a strenuous exercise and more like a deep, restorative sleep. Time melted away. He was not Karma, a human on a bed in a small inn. He was a being of pure consciousness, a part of a cosmic flow.
He awoke to the sound of a polite knock. "Breakfast, sir," the innkeeper's voice called from the other side of the door. He blinked, the morning light streaming through the small window a blinding shock. He had cultivated for a full day.
He stood, and his mind reeled. The aches and bruises were completely gone. Not a single trace remained. He stretched, his muscles feeling not just healed, but stronger, more supple. He glanced at his hands. The cuts and calluses from the wooden sword had softened, his skin looking flawless and radiant. He checked his body condition and gasped. He had not just healed, he had broken through two minor layers of the Body Tempering realm. His strength now stood at Body Tempering – 3rd layer. The progress was instantaneous, unbelievable. He had reached in a single day what others spent days trying to achieve.
After a quick and much-needed wash, he ate his simple breakfast, the food tasting like ambrosia. But his hunger wasn't for food; it was for power. He returned to his room and sat down again, this time determined to stay awake and witness the process with a clear mind. The spiritual energy flowed into him faster than before, guided by his new technique. He felt his body growing stronger, layer by layer, as if shedding an old skin and putting on a new, more perfect one.
He felt the subtle shifting within his core as he moved from the 3rd layer to the 4th, the 4th to the 5th. It was a rapid, thrilling ascent. He felt the impurities in his body being expelled, a greasy, black film seeping out of his pores. He was being refined, cleansed, and remade. When he reached the 9th layer of Body Tempering, the waste exploded from his body in a final, powerful burst. The air in the room grew thick with the stench of it, but Karma didn't care. A new, purer kind of energy, hot and potent, began to circulate in his veins, and he knew he had entered the Blood Tempering realm.
He didn't stop. He was a force of nature now, a maelstrom of cultivation. With Mira's constant nurturing and the guidance of the unknown scripture, he pushed his body past the limits of Blood Tempering. His blood hummed, his muscles became as hard as iron, and his bones rang like bells. With a final, explosive surge, he felt the spiritual energy in his body begin to settle. It was no longer just coursing through his meridians; it was gathering, forming a small, swirling vortex in his dantian, the spiritual heart of his being. He had entered the Energy Absorption realm.
In his mind, he willed the status screen to appear. It shimmered into existence, the characters glowing with renewed intensity.
StatusScreen
Name: Karma Hi
Realm: Energy Absorption – Early Stage (1st Layer)
Talent: Average (Upgradeable)
Comprehension: Profound Insight (Enlightenment: Devour – Minor Attainment)
Battle Sense: Natural (Awakened)
Techniques:
Silent Flowing Steps – Intermediate
Iron Serpent Fists – Novice
Azure Moon Cleave – Novice
Cultivation Mantra: Unknown Scripture
Karma stared at the screen, a profound sense of awe and shock washing over him. He had broken through two major realms in a single day. He was no longer a fledgling Body Tempering practitioner. He had entered the true path of cultivation, a path that had taken others weeks, even months, to reach. The divine scripture he had stumbled upon was not a mere technique; it was a cosmic inheritance, a cheat code in the harsh game of this world.
The disappointment of being abandoned by the Su Clan was a distant memory. He didn't need them. He had a path, a goal, and a power that was all his own. He was no longer a pawn. He was a player.