The meditation room inside Silent Lake Manor was pitch black. The heavy curtains were drawn, blocking out the moonlight. The only sound was the ragged, wet breathing of a boy fighting for his life.
Kaelen sat in the center of the room, naked from the waist up. His skin was no longer pale; it was covered in a web of black veins.
The poison from the Shadow Leader's dagger was not ordinary. It was "Soul-Rot Toxin". It didn't just attack the flesh; it attacked the cultivation base, eating away at the spiritual energy like termites eating wood.
'It hurts...'
The pain was different from the bone-forging fire. That was a hot, burning pain. This was cold. It felt as if ice water was being injected into his marrow.
Kaelen's hands trembled on his knees. His consciousness was blurring.
'If I sleep now, I will never wake up. The poison will stop my heart.'
He gritted his teeth. He had to break through. He had to reach the Spirit Ocean Realm. Only by creating a true "Ocean" of energy could he wash away this filth from his veins.
"Void Cauldron... Open."
He mentally commanded the ancient artifact in his dantian.
The black cauldron spun. It began to devour the ambient Qi in the room. The air grew heavy. The wooden floorboards groaned under the pressure.
But something was wrong. The energy wasn't gathering. It was hitting a wall.
Kaelen frowned, his eyes still closed. 'Why? My body is ready. My meridians are open. Why can't I form the Spirit Ocean?'
Suddenly, the darkness behind his eyelids shifted.
He was no longer in the room.
He was standing in a vast, golden hall. The floor was made of clouds, and the pillars were made of starlight.
It was the Divine Palace of his past life.
Kaelen looked around. The palace was magnificent, but it was terrifyingly empty. There were no guards. No friends. No lovers. Just an endless, echoing silence.
"You are stuck because you are weak," a voice echoed from the throne.
Kaelen looked up.
Sitting on the Golden Throne was... Himself.
It was Emperor Valerius. He wore golden armor, a crown of suns, and his eyes were cold, devoid of any emotion.
"You let a mortal stab you," The Shadow Emperor said, his voice dripping with disappointment. "You used your divine body to shield a useless old servant. You have become soft, Valerius."
Kaelen stood before the throne. "I am Kaelen now."
"You are a fool," The Shadow Emperor stood up, and the pressure in the mental world multiplied. "We rule the heavens because we are above attachment. Attachment is a chain. Uncle Hwan is a chain. That girl Elara is a chain. Even your mother is a chain. Cut them loose. Let them die. Only then can you ascend again."
The Shadow Emperor drew a sword made of pure light.
"Kill the humanity in your heart, or die here with the poison."
The sword swung down.
In the real world, Kaelen's body convulsed. Blood leaked from his nose.
In the mental world, Kaelen didn't draw a weapon. He looked at the descending sword of his past self.
For a moment, he was tempted. It was easy to be cold. It was easy to care for no one. When you care for no one, you have no weakness.
But then, he remembered Hwan's tears. He remembered the warmth of the cold bun. He remembered the way Hwan had slept with a kitchen knife to protect him.
'That old man... is not a chain,' Kaelen thought.
He raised his hand and caught the blade of light.
Sizzle!
His hand burned, but he didn't let go. He looked directly into the cold eyes of the Emperor.
"You are wrong," Kaelen whispered.
"I ruled the universe for a thousand years," The Shadow Emperor roared. "I was invincible!"
"No," Kaelen squeezed the blade, shattering it into sparks of light. "You were lonely. That is why Varian could kill you. You didn't have friends; you had subordinates. You didn't have family; you had subjects. You were so high up that no one could watch your back."
Kaelen took a step forward. The golden hall began to crack.
"Uncle Hwan is not a chain," Kaelen shouted, his voice shaking the mental realm. "He is my Anchor. He reminds me why I fight. I don't fight for a throne anymore. I fight so that the people I love don't have to bow to trash like the First Elder!"
"Power without humanity is just violence! And I am done being a violent statue!"
CRACK!
The Shadow Emperor's face shattered like glass. The Golden Throne crumbled into dust.
The mental world collapsed.
In the real world, the Void Cauldron roared.
The barrier was broken.
BOOM!
A whirlpool of energy exploded inside Kaelen's dantian. It wasn't a small pond. It was a vast, roaring ocean.
But it wasn't blue like ordinary cultivators.
One half was Golden (The Supreme Solar Body).
The other half was Pitch Black (The Abyssal Dragon).
Gold and Black swirled together, creating a terrifying, majestic Spirit Ocean.
Spirit Ocean Realm: Level 1.
The black veins on Kaelen's skin receded instantly, expelled by the pure power of the new ocean. He coughed up a mouthful of black blood—the last of the poison.
Kaelen opened his eyes.
For a second, the room was illuminated by a blinding golden light. Then, it faded, leaving Kaelen sitting in the dark, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his chin.
He felt... different.
He felt lighter. The heaviness of his past life—the arrogance, the bitterness—had lessened. He had accepted his new identity. He wasn't just Valerius anymore. He was truly Kaelen.
He stood up. His bones popped, sounding like firecrackers. He clenched his fist, and a faint layer of Spirit Qi coated his skin. It was thin, but incredibly dense.
"Spirit Ocean," Kaelen smiled. "Now I can use the First Form of the Dragon Sword Art."
He walked to the door and opened it.
The morning sun hit his face. It was a new day.
Outside, in the courtyard, Uncle Hwan was pacing back and forth. His eyes were red; he clearly hadn't slept all night. He was muttering prayers to every god he knew.
When the door opened, Hwan froze. He looked at Kaelen.
The boy standing there looked the same, yet completely different. The sickness was gone. The pale weakness was gone. There was a calmness about him—like a deep lake that hid a leviathan.
"Young... Master?" Hwan's voice trembled. "Are you... alive?"
Kaelen laughed. A real, bright laugh.
He walked down the steps and hugged the old man tight.
"I am alive, Uncle. And I am hungry."
Hwan burst into tears of relief, patting Kaelen's back. "Oh, thank the heavens! Thank the ancestors! I thought the poison... I thought..."
"The poison was strong," Kaelen whispered, "but your soup is stronger."
"Soup?" Hwan sniffled, confused. "I haven't made soup yet."
"Then go make it," Kaelen released him, his eyes twinkling. "Make a lot of it. Because today... we are going to have visitors."
Hwan's face fell. " visitors? The First Elder?"
"No," Kaelen looked toward the main gate. His senses, now amplified by the Spirit Ocean, could feel distinct auras approaching from miles away.
"Not enemies," Kaelen said. "Customers."
He sensed the aura of Jiara. And with her, another powerful aura—someone old, sharp, and dangerous.
"Go, Uncle. Prepare the tea. The good tea."
Hwan rushed to the kitchen, happy to be useful.
Kaelen stood alone in the courtyard. He looked at his hand. He summoned a small ball of Spirit Qi. It swirled, golden and black, obedient and deadly.
The internal demon was defeated. The foundation was laid.
Now, it was time to turn his eyes outward. To the Endless Sea. To the mystery of the Black Whirlpool. And to the mother who was waiting for him.
But first, he had to deal with the Violet Gold Pavilion. They were merchants, after all. They wouldn't protect him forever without a bigger price.
Kaelen walked to the gate and threw it open just as a luxurious carriage pulled up.
Jiara stepped out. She looked tired, but relieved to see him standing.
Behind her, an old man with white eyebrows and a long beard stepped out. He wore a purple robe with three gold stripes.
'A Grand Elder of the Pavilion,' Kaelen noted. 'Level 9 Spirit Ocean Realm.'
The old man looked at Kaelen. His gaze was heavy, probing, trying to see through Kaelen's secrets.
"So," the old man said, his voice like grinding stones. "This is the boy who caused a bloodbath in the city last night? You don't look like a killer."
Kaelen bowed slightly—not out of submission, but out of etiquette.
"I am not a killer, Senior," Kaelen said, his voice steady. "I am just a gardener who removes the weeds."
The old man's eyes flashed with surprise. Then, a slow smile spread across his face.
"A gardener," the old man chuckled. "Good. The Violet Gold Pavilion has a lot of weeds growing in our garden too. We might need your... expertise."
Kaelen gestured inside. "Please. The tea is brewing."
As they walked in, Kaelen knew that the "Parivarik" chapter of merely surviving was over. The game of politics and empires had just begun.