Wang Jin lay on a spirit-jade bed in a heavily warded room within the Wang family compound in the city. He was a ghastly sight. His skin was grey and cracked like dry mud, the earth Qi having literally begun to fossilize his flesh. His aura was a dying ember, sputtering around the gaping, silent void where his core used to be. The spatial tear had not just damaged it; it had nearly erased it.
Captain Wang Zhong stood by the door, his face a granite mask, but the storm in his eyes betrayed his turmoil. "Can you fix him?" The question was a low growl, stripped of all diplomacy.
Li Yao approached the bed, his perception dialed to its absolute limit. The damage was even worse than he had anticipated. The Stellar Core Method, for all its power, was a house of cards. His "push" had collapsed the entire structure.
"This is not a simple repair," Li Yao said, his voice clinical. "The core's architecture has undergone catastrophic failure. The spatial instability has unravelled the stellar matrix. He is not just injured; he is… unmade."
Wang Zhong's knuckles were white where he gripped the doorframe. "What. Can. You. Do."
"I can try to rebuild it," Li Yao said, meeting the Captain's gaze. "But it will not be the same core. It will be weaker. It will require constant, lifelong maintenance. And the process will be… invasive. I will need to embed a part of my own spiritual signature into the new core's matrix to act as a stabilizing agent. He will be tied to me. His cultivation will only progress with my guidance and my specially formulated elixirs."
It was the ultimate shackle. Not just dependency, but ownership. Wang Jin would become a spiritual puppet, his strings held by the man he loathed.
Wang Zhong closed his eyes, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He could let his son become a cripple, a mortal with a few decades of shame-filled life left. Or he could give him back his power, at the cost of his freedom and the Wang family's sovereignty.
"Do it," he whispered, the words tasting like ash.
The "surgery" took three days. Li Yao worked in the sealed room, with Wang Zhong standing guard outside, a silent sentinel. Li Yao did not use alchemical tools or formation arrays. He used his hands—his one flesh, one space.
He began by carefully, painstakingly, smoothing out the ragged edges of the spatial tear within Wang Jin's dantian using his [Law of Spatial Anchoring]. It was micro-sculpture on a spiritual level, each movement requiring absolute focus. The System provided a real-time, three-dimensional map of the damage, guiding his every action.
Then, he began the reconstruction. He didn't have another Sky-Iron Meteorite Shard or Python's Blood. He had to use what was available. He used the residual, petrified earth Qi that had flooded Wang Jin's body, purifying it with his Stellar Core's energy and weaving it into a new, crude foundation. It was like building a log cabin where a palace had stood.
The final, critical step was the "anchor." As he stabilized the nascent, feeble core, he did exactly as he had told Wang Zhong he would. He imprinted a tiny, intricate fragment of his own spiritual will—a seed of the System's foundational code for the [Breath of the Primordial Awakening]—into the very heart of the new core.
It was not a conscious piece of himself. It was a program. A cultivation protocol that would ensure the core could only cycle energy in a specific, stable pattern, a pattern only Li Yao and the System understood.
When it was over, Li Yao was drenched in a fatigue deeper than any physical exhaustion. Maintaining that level of spatial and spiritual control for so long had pushed him to his limit.
Wang Jin stirred. His color returned to a pale, but living, hue. The petrification receded. His new core, a dull, brownish orb, began to pulse with a slow, weak, but stable rhythm.
He opened his eyes. They were no longer filled with arrogant fire, but with a hollow, confused weakness. He looked at Li Yao standing over him, and then at his father.
"What… what happened?" his voice was a rasp.
"You had a cultivation accident," Li Yao said smoothly. "Your core was shattered. I was able to save your cultivation, but it is fragile now. You will need to follow my instructions exactly from now on." He placed a small vial of pale green liquid on the bedside table. "This elixir. Three times a day. It will nourish the new core. Any deviation, and it will collapse again. Permanently."
The truth was in the energy. Wang Jin could feel the alien stability of his new core, the foreign signature woven into its fabric. He could feel the leash. The understanding dawned in his eyes, not as rage, but as a profound, soul-crushing despair. He had become the servant.
He turned his face to the wall and said nothing.
As Li Yao left the compound, Wang Zhong fell into step beside him. The Captain's aura was a controlled inferno of suppressed emotion.
"The Soaring Cloud Sect is mobilizing for the Serpent's Spine mine," Wang Zhong said, his voice low and businesslike. The personal was buried under the practical. "The advance scout team leaves in two weeks. They will secure the perimeter and clear out the major beast hordes. I have… recommended you for the team. It is a high-risk, high-reward assignment. The spiritual energy near a new vein is wild and potent. It could be the catalyst you need for your next breakthrough."
It was a payment. A bribe. And a way to get a dangerous, unpredictable variable out of the sect for a while.
Li Yao nodded. "I accept."
"And my son's… condition?" Wang Zhong asked, the question laced with a father's pain.
"Stable. For now. I will prepare a month's supply of elixirs before I leave. His progress will be slow, but it will be progress. So long as he remains… compliant."
The unspoken words hung between them: So long as you remain useful.
Li Yao returned to his pavilion in the Inner Sect. He was exhausted, but triumphant. He had neutralized his most immediate threat and turned him into a dependent. He had secured a place on a mission that would provide the resources he desperately needed to advance.
He looked at his spatial hand. The ordeal had refined his control. He could now lift a training sword with it, though the strain was immense.
"[Law of Spatial Anchoring] Understanding: 1.5%. Proto-Limb strength and stability significantly increased. Minor combat application now possible."
He had paid for his power with an arm and a piece of his soul. He had cemented his position with ruthlessness and cunning. The path of ascension was not one of light and virtue; it was a climb out of a dark pit, using whatever handholds one could find, no matter how bloody.
The expedition to the Serpent's Spine awaited. A new battlefield, filled with demonic beasts and the schemes of men. But for Li Yao, it was just another step on the Eternal Path. He would go, he would consume the wild energy, and he would return stronger than ever. The slow, relentless burn continued, fueled by ambition and cold calculation.