Chapter Four: The Path of Cultivation

Outside the ancient city of Gulin, the City Lord was drenched in blood, grievously wounded. Even the spiritual manifestation above his head seemed to have faded considerably. As for the man atop the great roc, after his strike just moments ago, he had not acted again.

The demon expert battling the City Lord was garbed in white, exuding an overwhelming presence tinged with an otherworldly air. Throughout their exchanges, he had maintained the absolute upper hand, emerging unscathed.

Though the City Lord of Gulin was a formidable cultivator, his opponent was simply too powerful. Every spiritual technique he unleashed was broken with ease—yet he fought on, unafraid, drenched in blood.

“Accept your fate. You could never be a match for me,” the white-robed demon expert said coldly. With a single blow, he left a sword wound on the City Lord, then dodged the counterattack in a drift of motion.

The City Lord shouted, “Why have you invaded this place? What is your purpose?”

The man in white sneered, “Do you think I’d tell you? Ask again when you’re underground!”

At that moment, the expert atop the roc spoke to the man in white, “Finish this quickly. Don’t forget our mission.”

The man in white nodded, glanced at his companion, then turned his cold gaze back to the City Lord. “Understood. I’ve had enough fun. With this next blow, I’ll take his life!”

In that instant, the sword in the white-robed man’s hand blazed with greater power. He lunged straight for the City Lord, preparing to unleash a deadly technique to end the battle in a flash.

The City Lord, too, was prepared to burn his own life force, resolved to perish together with his foe.

Suddenly, a grief-stricken, furious howl echoed forth. Both men froze simultaneously; even the man atop the roc was startled. All three turned toward Gulin City.

Their faces changed. From within the city, a mighty aura exploded outward—terrifying, overwhelming, as if a slumbering peerless being was awakening!

In the next moment, surging flames erupted from the city’s heart, spreading with frightening speed, obliterating everything in their path, soon engulfing all of Gulin City.

The demon beast army was destined to be reduced to ashes in those flames.

“Impossible! How could there be such a powerful figure here?” the white-robed demon expert stammered, face ashen, body trembling uncontrollably—clearly petrified.

“Could the humans have discerned our aim? Or is there a hidden human expert we failed to uncover?” the expert atop the roc cried out in panic. Feeling that overwhelming aura, a chill swept through his heart, annihilating any will to fight.

That terrifying presence inspired primal fear in both demon experts. They dared not move a single step forward, and the great roc beneath them nearly fell from the sky.

They knew well that the tens of thousands in their army had been crucial to fulfilling their mission. Now turned to ash, their task was doomed to failure.

The two exchanged glances. The man on the roc said trembling, “Go!”

The white-robed man wasted no time, leaping onto the roc, which beat its wings and carried them swiftly away...

The cold wind howled, snowflakes drifted down, and Chu Feng walked alone through the bloodstained ruins.

Suddenly, endless darkness descended. Chu Feng was engulfed, devoured whole.

“Ah! Demon beasts, I’ll kill you all!” he roared in fury, unable to see light, unable to find hope, struggling in the infinite night.

—

A stranger appeared—a young man, upright and striking, with an air of quiet confidence. A faint smile always played on his lips, and the gentle radiance he emitted seemed to dispel the endless darkness. All around was a blank whiteness, nothing in sight.

Before this stranger, Chu Feng felt as if he stood at the edge of an abyss or before a towering mountain—shaken to his core, as if facing a deity.

“Senior, where is this place?” Chu Feng asked.

“This is a dream, and yet not a dream,” the stranger replied.

Chu Feng paused, not understanding. He pressed on, “Who are you?”

“My name is Yu Yang. I suppose I was someone quite formidable once,” the stranger said.

Chu Feng was taken aback, finding the answer both odd and boastful. Yet, something about the man’s bearing compelled trust.

A faint look of confusion crossed Yu Yang’s face, as if he was struggling to recall his past, yet unable to grasp it. He sighed, then pointed at the small sword hanging at Chu Feng’s chest. “I am now but a wisp of consciousness attached to this sword by a twist of fate, awakened by the strength of your will. Who I once was has scattered with the wind—what is past is gone, no need to hold on.”

Chu Feng stared, a suspicion forming in his mind. He took out the small sword and examined it. He vaguely remembered, just as he was about to be killed by a demon beast and was losing consciousness, this little sword had glowed. What happened after, he could not recall.

He wondered: if not for the sword’s intervention, how could he have survived? Could this little sword engraved with his name truly be a treasure?

“Senior, do you know what it is?” Chu Feng asked. Since Yu Yang was attached to the sword, perhaps he knew its origin.

Yu Yang gazed at the sword and shook his head. “It feels familiar, but I can’t remember. Still, it’s undoubtedly a remarkable treasure. As the saying goes, ‘an innocent man gets into trouble for possessing a valuable gem.’ Few can recognize it, but it’s best to keep it hidden and not expose it lightly.”

“Oh,” Chu Feng replied. With his limited experience, he couldn’t fathom what level of treasure Yu Yang meant. To him, the sword had saved his life—that alone made it extraordinary.

Yu Yang looked at Chu Feng kindly and continued, “What happened? Why was your will so filled with grief and rage just now?”

Chu Feng’s eyes went blank. “The demon beasts came. Everyone died.”

Yu Yang was taken aback, rubbing his chin and muttering, “The demon beasts invaded Gulin City? Strange—what is the demon clan after?”

Seeing Chu Feng’s lost expression, Yu Yang sighed. “But you’re still alive.”

Chu Feng murmured, “Yes, I’m alive. Why am I still alive?”

Yu Yang glanced at him and suddenly asked, “Do you want to cultivate?”

At those words, Chu Feng was instantly excited. How could he not? He dreamt of it day and night. But he had never been able to awaken his spiritual power. The thought made him despondent. “I’ve trained hard for ten years, but I can’t awaken my spirit. How could I cultivate?”

“Do you want to give up?” Yu Yang asked.

“I can’t bear to give up, but I see no hope,” Chu Feng replied, crestfallen.

Yu Yang smiled gently. “There is more than one path to cultivation. Awakening spiritual power is not the only or even the best way.”

Chu Feng’s eyes lit up. The words were shocking, yet they gave him hope.

He looked at Yu Yang eagerly. “Please guide me, Senior.”

Yu Yang nodded. “Though you cannot awaken your spirit, your body is truly remarkable—well done, very well done.”

He praised Chu Feng twice, then continued, “There is a path well suited to you, but it is extremely arduous. Even you may not be able to bear it.”

“No matter how hard, as long as there is hope, I’ll persevere!” Chu Feng declared at once.

“Excellent!” Yu Yang nodded approvingly. “This path sounds simple, but in practice, it is grueling—to constantly break the limits of the human body, making it ever stronger!”

Chu Feng fell silent, puzzled. Had he not already been doing this for ten years, all for the sake of awakening his spirit? He did not understand Yu Yang’s meaning. “Will this really let me cultivate?”

Yu Yang seemed to sense his doubts, and smiled mysteriously. “How will you know unless you try? Perhaps you’ll achieve something unexpected—if you can persevere to the end.”

Chu Feng was stunned. If such words came from anyone else, they would sound like empty encouragement. But from Yu Yang, Chu Feng believed them utterly—he couldn’t say why, but the trust was absolute. “I will never give up,” he vowed.

“Good!” Yu Yang nodded. “The path of physical cultivation—what you have done so far is only the tip of the iceberg. Go to the Spirit War Pavilion. There, you’ll find your own way.” With that, he handed Chu Feng a token as red as blood.

Chu Feng took the token, momentarily stunned. Holding it, he felt a cool sensation that calmed his mind.

The token was about two inches long, one inch wide, entirely crimson as blood, covered with mysterious runes. On the front, the character for “Order” was prominently engraved; on the back, the words “Spirit War Pavilion” stood out.

Chu Feng was about to ask a question when Yu Yang said, “This is the Sacred Token of the Spirit War. Its bearer holds a position of great honor in the Pavilion, second only to the Pavilion Master. You may freely enter any area, and choose three treasures—no matter how precious.”

Chu Feng was dumbfounded, as if struck by lightning. The token felt as heavy as a mountain.

He wanted to say, “How could I accept something so precious?” but was too astonished to speak.

Yu Yang continued, “Though you cannot awaken your spirit, this Sacred Token will allow you to enter the Spirit War Pavilion. Perhaps, given present circumstances, you won’t need it immediately, but you certainly will one day. Each Sacred Token has only one true master. Others cannot use it. I possessed it, but never used it, and never will. Now I give it to you. I have already inscribed your information within it—you are now its rightful owner.” As he finished speaking, his form began to fade.

“Senior, you—?” Chu Feng cried out in alarm.

Yu Yang smiled gently. “I am about to sink into slumber once more. Our meeting was destiny. I think I remember now—my existence was to await the one I was meant for. What I needed to do, I have done. When your path of physical cultivation reaches a certain extreme, we shall meet again.”

With those words, Yu Yang’s body dissolved into nothingness.

“Senior! Senior!” Darkness swept back in. Chu Feng called out, struggling—when suddenly, light burst before his eyes. He looked around and found himself covered in mud, lying atop a bluestone slab. He blinked, dazed, then murmured, “So it was all a dream.”

But then he froze, feeling a cool sensation at his chest. Startled, he reached into his shirt and drew out a crimson token—the very same Sacred Token of the Spirit War from his dream.