The wind howled across the cliffs of the Bloodshade Peaks, carrying with it the faint scent of decay and time. Wang Chung's tattered robe fluttered as he climbed the jagged stones, each step steady and deliberate. The wounds on his body had barely healed, but the burning desire in his heart drove him forward.
He had been wandering for weeks now — surviving on spirit herbs, wild beast meat, and determination. But today, fate stirred again.
At the peak of the mountain, hidden behind a curtain of hanging vines, Wang Chung's keen eyes caught sight of a narrow crevice. It was faintly pulsing with a dim, ancient glow.
His instincts screamed.
That glow wasn't from any spirit stone or beast. It was something older.
Carefully, he pushed the vines aside and slipped through the gap. A long tunnel opened before him, damp and echoing. Each step he took resounded like whispers in the dark. The deeper he went, the colder it became — so cold it felt like stepping into the bones of time itself.
Finally, the path opened into a wide chamber.
At its center sat a skeleton, clothed in tattered robes of gold and black. Time had long turned them to dust, yet the air around it was filled with ancient majesty. In the skeleton's hand rested a jade slip, and beside it, a withered cauldron cracked with age.
Wang Chung bowed deeply. He didn't know who this cultivator once was, but even in death, the figure carried a presence that commanded respect.
> "Senior… forgive my intrusion."
He stepped forward, kneeling before the remains. Carefully, he lifted the jade slip, brushing away the centuries of dust. The moment his spiritual sense touched it—
BOOM!
A surge of ancient qi burst from the jade slip, rushing into his mind like a tidal wave. His vision blurred, and suddenly, he was no longer in the cave.
He stood within a vast void filled with stars and echoes.
A deep, aged voice spoke:
> "If you have found this place, then fate has chosen you. I was once the master of the Heavenly Refining Path. The world fell into ruin, and my sect with it. If you possess the courage to walk the road of solitude… then inherit my legacy."
The void trembled. Countless runes appeared, spinning in golden light. Wang Chung could barely endure it — his soul trembled, blood trickled from his nose and ears.
But he clenched his fists and forced himself to endure.
When the light faded, only a single phrase remained within his mind — "Essence Tempering Art" — a technique that refined both body and soul, purifying qi to the extreme.
His body collapsed to the ground, sweat pouring from him. The jade slip turned to ash in his hand.
The skeleton before him seemed to tremble faintly — and then, the last trace of spiritual energy left its bones, flowing toward him like mist. The ancient cultivator's will vanished, but his power merged into the air, resonating with the bead inside Wang Chung's soul.
The bead pulsed — once, twice — then grew faint again.
Wang Chung opened his eyes slowly. The cave was silent once more.
> "Essence Tempering Art…" he whispered.
"A cultivation method that refines essence itself… Senior, your kindness will not be forgotten."
He bowed deeply again, three times.
Then he sat cross-legged before the skeleton and began cultivating.
Days turned into nights.
The faint light within the cave pulsed in rhythm with his breath. The purified qi coursed through his meridians, tempered by the bead, refined by the Essence Art — until his body began to hum with quiet power.
When he finally opened his eyes, a golden hue flickered within them. His aura had transformed — stable, profound, and sharp like a blade unsheathed.
> "Fifth level of Body Refinement…" he murmured.
"This path is long… but I've taken another step."
He looked toward the skeleton one last time.
> "Senior, rest well. Your legacy will not die here."
Then, with calm determination, he stood and walked out of the cave — into the dawn of a new journey, where blood, destiny, and vengeance awaited.
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