The mountain chamber was silent, except for the distant sigh of the wind as it wove through the carved openings in the stone. Moonlight spilled across the polished floor, illuminating the lone figure seated in its center.

Su Kang sat cross-legged, his breath steady, his body motionless. Before him, a single incense stick burned, its curling smoke twisting and dissipating into the cool air. The faint aroma of sandalwood lingered, yet his mind was far removed from the physical world.

After weeks of practice, tonight he would lay the foundation for the Sanctuary of the Unwavering Soul.

For six weeks, he had studied the technique, dissecting its intricacies, internalizing its wisdom, and perfecting the delicate interplay of breath, will, and spirit.

Yet knowledge alone was no more than ink on parchment—useless without the forging of experience. Tonight, he would lay the foundation for his future soul cultivation—he would inscribe them upon his soul.

His eyes fluttered shut.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Deep within his consciousness, a single spark flickered into existence—the nascent ember of his mental sanctuary, a space where no illusion, no invading will, and no force beyond his own would ever hold dominion.

He guided his soul energy into this space, constructing walls of thought and pillars of willpower, reinforcing them with sheer intent. Yet the moment he sought to expand it, the structure wavered, crumbling like a sandcastle before the tide.

Doubt crept in like an insidious whisper.

His past life's images came into his mind. The weight of his obligations, his failure as a son. The ghosts of unspoken regrets. The lingering warmth of Bai Yunxi’s touch, the echo of her voice in the recesses of his memory.

Then he saw his worst nightmare—destruction of his family. His mother's suicide, sobbing and begging voices of children.

"Hehehe, women of your family are quite good; they lasted two days. They earned two days of life for their children, but it seems nobody is coming to save you guys." One middle-aged man spoke as he was coming out of a room. He was half naked in a black and red robe.

"We gave you enough time, but it seems no one is brave enough in this state. No one came to save you guys." Another man spoke as he was rolling the head of a young girl.

Su Kang's eyes were already lost without hope; his face was stained with blood tears. His limbs were broken, and his dantian was shattered.

"Hahaha, then it's time to wrap up our game. Since nobody came to save you guys and all the women are either dead or tired, they can't entertain us anymore." The first man shouted loudly; his voice reverberated in the Su manor.

"Noo ….I can still go on. Come to me. Just one more day is enough; please give us more time."

Su Kang could hear the tired voices of women, shouting for more time. But soon their voices turned into curses and shrieks as demon cultivators ripped their bodies.

Su Kang saw the destruction of his family again as he tried to lay the foundation of the sanctuary. He saw this scene countless times in the past six weeks.

This time he was prepared. He will not fail again.

"Don't worry, I will get my revenge. And for that I need to succeed here."

Instead of resisting the thoughts, he let them drift, distant and formless, like mist dissolving beneath the rising sun. He did not reject them—he acknowledged their presence and allowed them to pass, like clouds scudding across a vast, empty sky. He focused on his breathing, slow and steady, an anchor in the swirling chaos of his mind.

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"My soul is my sanctuary. No harm shall enter. No fear shall linger."

The mantra resonated within him, sinking into the depths of his being, not as words but as an immutable truth.

Time lost all meaning.

Sweat beaded along his brow, his breath turned ragged, yet he remained rooted, his mind locked in battle against the unseen. The struggle was unlike any he had faced before. Physical pain could be endured, the body could be broken and mended—but the mind? The mind had to be reforged from within, tempered through suffering unseen.

Then, as the horizon bled with the first streaks of dawn, something shifted.

The chaos within him stilled. The formless mist dissipated. In its place stood something solid, immovable, indomitable. His sanctuary had taken form, a small, glowing fortress of pure will, a beacon in the darkness of his inner world.

His sanctuary had taken form.

Yet his path had only begun.

In the days that followed, Su Kang pushed himself further.

By night, he practiced the Star Tempering Exercise, using wisps of Astral Qi through his meridians, slowly breaking and reforging them with each pulse of Astral energy. The energy felt alien, almost hostile, yet he persisted, forcing his body to adapt, to accept the subtle intrusion.

By day, he refined his mental fortress, reinforcing it with sheer will, expanding it until it became as boundless as the heavens, as unshakable as the stars.

The changes were subtle yet undeniable. His Qi control sharpened, his perception heightened, and his focus became unbreakable. He felt lighter, faster, stronger—not in flesh, but in essence.

Where once his thoughts had been a thousand clashing voices, now there was only silence, a perfect, unwavering clarity. He felt a new calmness that he once didn't have, a profound sense that he was on the right path, no matter how arduous.

He had passed the first trial, and the next stage was coming.

The Star-Forged Physique. A body cultivation technique that will refine his body.

The wind howled through the jagged peaks, whispering across the desolate mountaintop where Su Kang stood—naked, exposed, but unshaken.

A silver mist curled around him, reflecting the cold moonlight like a phantom veil. The array beneath his feet pulsed with a soft glow, spirit stones humming with latent energy. This was his trial.

Two vials rested in his hands. One, a swirling, silver-white liquid that hummed with an almost sentient power—Astral Essence. The other thick and gold-colored pill—the Healing Elixir. Two opposing forces, balanced precariously between destruction and renewal.

Both of these were given by Fate for this transformation. If not for the healing elixir, Su Kang would die without even leaving a single bone behind.

"Su Kang, now you can start."

Fate’s voice echoed through the void, devoid of emotion.

A deep breath. He needed to calm himself. He meditated for a few hours to adjust his mind and body for the transformation, letting the small wisps of Astral Qi flow through his newly opened meridians, a faint preview of the power to come.

A single drop of Astral Essence, suspended before him, pulsed with a cold, silver light. It looked… dangerous.

Su Kang’s throat tightened. He could feel its power, even from a distance. A raw, untamed energy that promised both destruction and power.

“Once consumed, your body will be destroyed. The elixir will heal, but… endure the agony,” Fate confirmed.

Su Kang’s hand didn't tremble as he reached for the drop. Hesitation was a luxury he couldn't afford. This wasn't just about power; it was about survival. About protecting those he loved. He brought the drop to his lips.

One gulp.

The world exploded.

Not outwards, but inwards. A searing inferno ignited within him, starting in his stomach and racing outwards, consuming him with a speed that defied comprehension. It wasn’t just heat; it was a dissolving force, a cosmic fire that reduced flesh, bone, and blood to their base components.

His muscles spasmed, twisting into agonizing knots. A sound tore from his throat – not a scream, but a raw, guttural roar, the sound of a creature being torn apart at the seams. He collapsed, his body slamming against the cold stone of the platform.

His fingers trembled, reaching blindly for healing elixir.

With the last shreds of his will, he uncorked the elixir and poured it down his ruined throat.

He could smell his own flesh burning, a sickeningly sweet, metallic odor that mingled with the sharp, clean scent of his flesh. His bones cracked, a sickening symphony of snapping and splintering, and then… a strange, liquefying sensation, as though they were melting into molten slag.

His vision was a blur of swirling colors – the silver-white of the Essence, the crimson of his own blood, the pulsing blue of the array beneath him. Then, flashes of stars. Distant, cold, uncaring.

His skin boiled away, vanishing into the void. His muscles, once honed through endless battle, melted, exposing stark, ivory bones—until even those began to crack, then liquefy, dissolving into nothing.

He was not burning. He was ceasing to exist.

His vision swam. The stars above, distant and uncaring, twisted and blurred as if mocking his struggle. His mind, on the edge of collapse, latched onto the only thing left.

His family.

He visualized his sanctuary, its walls shimmering faintly, a desperate attempt to hold onto his sanity.

My soul is my sanctuary… He repeated the mantra, the words fragmented, barely audible even to himself, but imbued with the last vestiges of his will. No harm shall enter… no fear…

No. He would not fail. Not now. Not after coming this far.

The golden pill cascaded through his body, slow at first, then all at once. A warm tide pushing back against the abyss.

But it wasn’t relief. Not yet.

The Essence continued tearing him apart even as the elixir tried to restore him. It was a battle of forces beyond mortal comprehension—creation against destruction, order against chaos. And he was the battlefield.