This physique also extends to the realm of love and sex. If you conquer a woman's heart and body and she has a powerful bloodline, powerful cultivation realm or a special physique, you can absorb the essence of her lineage, potentially granting you access to rare cultivation arts, elemental affinities, or even bloodline limits. However, the path of the Heavenly Sovereign is fraught with peril. Each assimilation carries the risk of destabilising your foundation if the energies are too incompatible or potent. You must carefully balance what you absorb, lest he be consumed by the very power he seeks to wield.

Moreover, the mere existence of such a physique is an affront to the Heavens. Powerful Sects, ancient clans, and even deities may seek to eliminate you, fearing the rise of a new Heavenly Sovereign who could challenge their dominion>

Azreal, attempting to reconcile the last hour of his life, the battle with the Bloodvine Ent, the memory sequence, the kiss from Xiara and his new physique, his mind swirling as he still holds Xiara in his arms, making him question his own physique.

Formidable foes? Hopefully there won't be too many of them…

The system hasn't notified me of any benefit or 'Conquest', so Xiara cannot be considered mine. I wonder what it takes to fully conquer a woman, is it to win her heart, her mind, her body or all three together?

I will be hunted if my physique is found? And there's a chance I will lose my mind if I attempt to absorb anything too powerful? Is this another blessing or curse?

While Azreal's mind races with thoughts and questions, he holds Xiara close and unknowingly stares into her eyes. Their moment is broken as Darian clears his throat. Breaking the embrace quickly, Xiara breaks the link between her Azreal as the drain on her body to keep the link active is extremely demanding.

"Ah sorry, I got lost in my own thoughts for a moment," says Azreal, a flush of embarrassment making his face turn a shade of darker red.

"Lost in her eyes, more like," Darian responds while laughing. A sheepish smile is Azreal's only reply as he steps away from Xiara. He knows they'll need to talk about this, to figure out what it means for them and for the team. But now is not the time, forcefully pushing his thoughts aside, taking a deep breath and focusing on the situation at hand.

Xiara, similar to Azreal, feels a sense of embarrassment and lingering desire, yet she also knows that this is not the place or time to be acting this way. She knows her emotions are affecting Azreal, the link joins them, yet she does not know it would be so strong.

Doubt begins to rear its ugly head as she begins to feel anxious about the impact of her actions.

"It's okay, Xiara, I know that look, get out of your own head, I promise everything is okay," Azreal's calming words easing her worry. Yet, an unnerving sense of danger and fear lingers as they revel in their victory. A sense of unease lingers at the edges of their minds. The Ent, powerful as it is, is but one of the countless monsters that hide in the depths of the Lingxi Grove.

"Now, we need to cultivate to recover our Qi and Soul Essence, how long will everyone need?" asks Azreal, a sense of indecisiveness in his tone.

"I'd need a few hours to restore my Qi, I have no idea if I could heal my body in that time, but it will have to do," says Darian.

"I'll only need an hour, the twin harmony pill you gave me has replenished a vast amount of Soul Essence, I will stand guard while you two attempt to heal your wounds," says Xiara, as she moves toward the edge of the clearing, in search of any beast that could have been attracted by the sounds of their battle.

Azreal stands guard for the first hour before Xiara awakens from her cultivation, fully healed. A small exchange between them, ensuring there was nothing abnormal during his watch. After confirming everything is fine, Azreal swaps with Xiara, and begins to take in the Dense Qi in the area. Channelling the Qi through his Dantian and directing the flow towards his most damaged part of his body, causing his wounds to heal extremely fast.

Xiara, standing watch, keeps one eye on the underbrush and another on Azreal, her heartbeat thundering inside her chest as she stares at his peaceful expression. The thick ambient Qi of the Lingxi Grove, being drawn into Azreal, highlights his figure against the deep greens of the dimly lit plant life.

Two hours pass, Azreal, Darian and Xiara are standing in the middle of the clearing. "Okay, we've fought and killed two mythic ranked beasts, these have to be worth a huge amount of points. I think we should head back to the outer edges and practise our teamwork while fighting mortal ranked beasts. Thoughts?" asks Azreal.

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"Yep, I doubt many teams have the ability to match our strength. Even if there is a team that can, there are ten spots for the Violet Sanctum, we only need to be in the top ten not first," says Darian.

Xiara nods at Darian's words with a complicated expression, turning to face Azreal, "I think we should still try to do the best we can, as we hunt Mortal ranked beasts, we should attempt to push ourselves and hunt as many as we can manage. If we do not push ourselves now, we will regret it later if we underestimate the other disciples."

Agreeing with her words, the trio ventures back towards the outer edges of the Lingxi Grove, they move with a renewed sense of purpose. The dense foliage seems to part before them, as if the very forest itself recognizes their growing strength and determination.

Over the next eight hours, Azreal, Darian, and Xiara fall into a rhythm, their teamwork growing more seamless with each encounter. They systematically hunt down mortal ranked beasts, their movements fluid and precise, a deadly dance of blade, fist, and explosive concoctions. The first beast they encounter is a pack of Emerald Wolves, their fur a vivid green that blends seamlessly with the foliage of the grove. These creatures are known for their speed and cunning, using the dense undergrowth to their advantage as they strike from the shadows.

Azreal, his sword Calista crackling with Lightning and dripping with poisonous Qi, leads the charge. His strikes are swift and decisive, each strike showing scarily fast improvements in his technique. Xiara and Darian, have to admit, initially Azreal's sword skills were non-existent, barely passable but he managed to cover that with his raw power and strength. Yet, the sword skills he now displays are competent, smooth and effective, there is still so much to refine but with this kind of improvement during such a short time makes Darian and Xiara stare in disbelief.

Darian, a golden titan on the battlefield, acts as the immovable bulwark. His body, a fortress of muscle and Qi, withstands the onslaught of claws and fangs, allowing Azreal and Xiara to strike with impunity. Each beast that falls before him only serves to fuel his own strength, his Golden Titan Body Art growing more formidable with every passing hour. The wolves' teeth shatter against his skin, their claws leaving barely a scratch as he throws them aside with the ease of a giant swatting at flies.

Xiara, a whirlwind of fire and ingenuity, dances around the edges of the fights. Her explosive vials find their marks with unerring accuracy, setting fur and scale alight, weakening their foes for Azreal and Darian to finish off. In the brief moments of respite, she concocts new brews, her mind always scheming, always adapting. Her eyes glow with the light of the flames she conjures, her hair whipping about her face as she spins and dodges, a fiery goddess in the midst of the chaos.

As they press on, they encounter a myriad of other beasts. There are the Stonehide Bears, massive creatures with hides as tough as granite, their roars shaking the very earth beneath their feet. Azreal and Darian work in tandem to bring these behemoths down, Azreal's lightning-infused strikes cracking their hides while Darian's golden fists shatter their bones.

Then come the Razorleaf Snakes, agile beasts that wield the very foliage of the grove as weapons. They slither from the trees and underbrush, hurling razor-sharp leaves with deadly accuracy. Here, Xiara's talents shine brightest, her explosive brews setting the canopy alight, flushing the Razorleaf Snakes from their hiding spots and into the waiting blade and fist of her companions.

Hour after hour, they fight, the challenges growing more intense with each new enemy. Yet, they never waver, their trust in each other absolute. When Azreal is caught off guard by a Fanged Serpent's strike, Darian is there, his golden hand catching the beast's jaws mere inches from his friend's throat. When Xiara is overwhelmed by a swarm of Venom Wasps, Azreal is at her side in an instant, his sword a whirlwind of steel that scatters the insects to the winds.

Even in the chaos of the most challenging battles, they find moments of joy and camaraderie. Darian's booming laughter resounds through the Lingxi Grove as he wrestles a Stonehide Bear, Xiara's sly grin as she tosses an explosive vial over Azreal's shoulder to take out a sneaking Emerald Wolf, Azreal's triumphant shout as he cuts down beast after beast with his lightning empowered strikes. These are the moments where they begin to forge their bonds, each member becoming more familiar with the other's fighting style, their personalities beginning to mesh and a team formed from trust rather than need blooms in the heat of many battles.

It is during a brief moment of rest, as they catch their breath after dispatching a particularly stubborn pair of Grove Wolves, that the scream reaches their ears. It is a sound of pure terror, a plea that echoes through the twisted paths of the grove. "Why did you Kill Nila and Nola, what did they ever do to you? Please leave us alone, I can still save them! What do you want! Why are you trying to kill us?"

"Save them? You must be joking. They are long dead, one is underboot and the other's eyes have clouded over" A hideous viper-like voice jeers before laughing.

"You're an inner disciple of our Sect! You're meant to protect us, not kill us, why?" Her voice screeches again.

"That is none of your business, you chose to ignore our gracious and benevolent invite, so now you must die," the voice hisses back.

Azreal's mind races, he has heard the female voice before, aside from the screeching it is deep yet feminine. Lilith Nightbearer, Azreal's mind finding the missing information, the Barbarian Storm, he has heard her speak during the competition meetings. Azreal, feeling an additional sense of dread due to how strong this disciple must be to make someone as stoic as Lilith plead for her life. Still trying to make sense of the situation, Azreal struggles to understand that an inner disciple of his Sect is here in the Lingxi Grove, attacking outer disciples? It is unthinkable to attack during a competition held by the Sect for the Violet Sanctum, it is a clear violation of everything the Sect stands for. Yet, the proof is there, in the echoes of Lilith's scream, in the frantic pounding of his own heart.

Turning to look at Darian and Xiara, he sees the same shock and confusion mirrored in their eyes. For a moment, they stand frozen, unsure of what to do. They are exhausted, battered from their own battles, and an inner disciple is far beyond their ability to handle. Every instinct screams at them to run, to hide, to leave Lilith and her team to their fate.

But as he looks at his companions, as he sees the determination settling over their features, Azreal knows they can't do that. Azreal, unable to turn away from such an abuse of power, his body now working beyond his capabilities, reflects on a promise made to himself back on Earth. "If my body was healthy, I would do something for her" Azreal mutters to himself, his expression becoming resolute, his body is healthy, in fact far more than he could've ever imagined. Azreal, driven to act by his own promise.

Azreal takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision settling on his shoulders. Then, with a nod to Darian and Xiara, he turns towards the source of the scream, towards the unknown danger that awaits them. They move as one, their exhaustion forgotten, their wounds ignored, driven forward by the bonds of Sect and the fire of their own resolve.