The room vibrated with a low, predatory hum as the spirit of the Stoneclaw Lion raged within Hanyuan's small frame. It was a mental battlefield; every time the golden brown beast phantom roared in his mind, his skull felt as if it were being split by an iron Axe.
Blood began to leak from the corners of his eyes and his nose, staining the murky red water further, but Hanyuan's expression didn't change from its mask of grim defiance.
"Talent is merely the spark. I am the forge, the hammer, and the quenching oil," Hanyuan rasped, the words thick with the copper taste of his own blood. "By the time I am finished, your gifts will look like a child's toy!" What was talent against a soul that refused to break?
His meridians groaned under the pressure. The savage energy of the lion's blood tore through his channels like jagged glass, but the cooling Iron Vine and Frost Root herbs followed immediately behind, knitting the flesh back together and hardening it into something denser, something closer to steel.
CRACK.
His ribs realigned and thickened. His skin, once merely pale, now carried a faint, lustrous sheen of ivory.
Cough!
A glob of dark, clotted blood erupted from his throat.Suddenly, the chaotic swirling in the tub slowed. The violent red hue faded into a clear, stagnant gray as the final wisps of the Stoneclaw Lion's essence were dragged into Hanyuan's pores.
Hanyuan sat in the silence of his room, his head hanging low, steam rising from his shoulders. Shaking violently, he forced his legs to straighten. He climbed out of the barrel, his wet feet leaving bloody imprints on the stone floor.
He stood before a small copper mirror, and his breath hitched. He was still Young, but the child in his features was receding. His muscles were now lean and corded like a high tension bowstring, and his skin had a translucent, jade like glow that signaled a perfected foundation. He clenched his fist, and the air in his palm let out a sharp pop from the sudden compression.
"Twice as strong," he whispered.
Inside his Dantian, the Qi vortex was no longer just a pool; it was a spinning cyclone of concentrated power, lapping greedily at the barrier of the 7th Layer. He was on the very edge of the High Stage of Qi Refining.
However, as he tried to take a step, the world tilted.
A sharp, lightning bolt pain lanced through his brain,the "Beast Will" had left its mark. The phantom roar of the lion still echoed in the corners of his mind, a lingering psychic bruise that throbbed with every heartbeat.
"Ugh... the headache..." Hanyuan gritted his teeth, clutching his temples until his knuckles turned white. "The senior was right. This is a gamble. I won't be able to touch beast blood again for a long time..."
He staggered to his bed, ignoring the wet mess on the floor. He didn't cultivate his Qi further that night. Instead, he simply focused on breathing, letting the quiet strength in his new bones settle.
The silence of meditation was finally broken by the sound of Hanyuan's steady breathing. It had taken three days of agonizing mental stillness to wash away the last echoes of the Stoneclaw Lion's roar. His headache had finally faded, leaving behind a mind that felt sharper, as if it had been tempered by the very pressure it resisted.
He devoured the remains of his supplies from Blue Dew City,bittersweet spirit fruits and sun dried beef,feeling the energy replenish his physical Body. Standing up, he felt a strange, newfound density in his bones. He gripped the Cold Cloud Spear, and the blue runes hummed instantly, reacting to the improved Qi conductivity of his meridians.
Thwack!
He unleashed the Silverfrost Spear Art in the narrow courtyard. The movements were no longer just a sequence of strikes; they were becoming an extension of his will. With the insights from Qin Rong's collection of Human grade scrolls, Hanyuan found he could fill the gaps in his style. The Silver Crescent Horizon was now tighter, the Star-Point Piercer faster, and the Whirling Silver Veil more impenetrable.
"Seventy five percent mastery," Hanyuan noted, a thin film of frost settling on his sleeves.
He stepped out of his stone hut, intending to pull Qin Yu away from his studies, but stopped dead in his tracks.
"Open this door, you spineless coward!" Zhao Yao's voice shrilled through the morning air.
She was standing before Qin Yu's gate, her face flushed with fury, hammering her fists against the wood. "Rematch! I was caught off guard in the arena! If you're a man of the Qin Clan, face me!"
Hanyuan stayed in the shadows, watching the scene. A few other disciples were snickering nearby. It seemed Qin Yu had indeed made a life enemy, and Hanyuan had no intention of being dragged into that fight.
Sorry, Brother Yu, Hanyuan thought with a smirk, turning away. You're on your own with this one.
The Mission Hall was bustling with a different energy today. Now that the Beast Tide in the outskirts had been suppressed by the Soul Transformation Elder, the lower ranked missions were being snatched up quickly.
Hanyuan ignored the group invitations and scanned the board for a long term post. His eyes landed on a simple, green bordered scroll.
[Mission: Medical Field Overseer]
Location: Southern Slope, Work Disciple Zone.
Duration: 2 weeks.
Reward: 30 Merit Points.
Duty: Ensure the safety of the spirit herb crops; prevent theft and slacking among the work force.
Perfect, Hanyuan mused. The Work Disciple zone is quiet. No geniuses seeking a fight, and plenty of time for my own cultivation.
The Deacon let out a wheezing laugh as he stamped the jade slip. "Haha! Taking a vacation, are we,junior brother Hanyuan? Elder Huo is still in deep seclusion trying to stabilize his aura after a breaktrough,so I suppose you need somewhere else to vent that frost of yours. Watch the Work Disciples, though. Some of them have been there for ten years and have grown... resentful."
Hanyuan nodded and left, heading toward the Work Disciple Area.
The environment changed as he descended the mountain paths. The floating islands were left behind, replaced by fertile terraces carved into the mountainside. Here, the Qi was thinner than at the summit, but the air smelled of rich soil and blooming medicinal herbs.
He saw hundreds of Work Disciples,youths and middle aged men in coarse, plain robes,tilling the earth with wooden tools. Their faces were weathered, their expressions vacant or hardened by a lifetime of labor without the hope of advancement.
Hanyuan took his post on a high observation platform overlooking the Green Spirit Fields. He sat cross- egged, his spear across his lap, his obsidian eyes scanning the fields. Most of the workers kept their heads down, but a few shot sideways glances at the 12 year old Youth who had been sent to watch them.
He didn't care about their stares. He closed his eyes and began to circulate his Qi. As a guardian, his mere presence was a deterrent, and for the next fourteen days, he intended to let the quiet growth of the herbs mirror his own.