Azreal takes a deep breath, the peaceful ambiance of his quaint garden contrasting sharply with the harsh stone walls of the Vault of Thousands. The Heavenly Creation Art manual is still clutched in his hands, the parchment's ancient texture grounding him in the reality of the task laid before him. The sun dips low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the mountainside and illuminating the garden, offering a source of warmth.
"No time better than now." Azreal assumes a lotus position on the warm wooden floor of his inner garden, taking deep, steadying breaths as he attunes himself to the environment and the Qi surrounding him. The air tinges with power, a slight breeze forming with Azreal at the epicentre.
Steadying his mind, Azreal takes another deep breath before opening his crystal blue eyes, his gaze firmly on the Manual placed before him. With a swift yet delicate touch, he opens the Heavenly Creation Art to the first page, the parchment, worn and yellowed with age. It feels almost alive beneath his fingertips, as if imbued with the very essence of the Heavenly Creation Art. Azreal's eyes fall onto beautifully written calligraphy, "If you ascend beyond the initial realms of the first heavens, abandon this technique. It will be beyond your grasp, for it contains the very essence that defies the nature of cultivation."
Defies the nature of cultivation … Luckily I found this cultivation technique when I did, any later in my journey and I may have exceeded the limit, truly a strike of luck.
Thanking the Heavens for his luck, Azreal begins to read the first page. He is assaulted with a series of intricate diagrams and complex theories detailing the initial steps of the technique. As he begins to read, Azreal focuses on comprehension, every word, every stroke of ink that makes the words, he intends to absorb every detail.
The initial page focuses on Qi absorption and how to modify his base technique's breathing and absorption techniques. Azreal reads and rereads this section, his mind struggling to fully grasp the enormity of the concepts presented. He meditates on the idea of emptiness, on the way that all things are ultimately illusory, mere ripples on the surface of a vast and unknowable ocean. Undeterred, he forces himself to continue until he can understand and soon, Azreal feels a sense of wonderment; his cultivation method, Heaven's Exile, is perfectly suited for the Heavenly Creation Art.
The melding of the two techniques comes to Azreal with extreme ease, as if two pieces of a puzzle have finally found each other. A rush of understanding forms within the deepest part of his mind. As his eyes scan over the characters, diagrams, and words, they begin to shape a breathing technique that boosts the absorption of ambient Qi and allows for the transformation of one Qi type into another. The only limiting factor is the cultivator's understanding of the Qi; the technique requires a deep and profound comprehension of each Qi type.
A problem for after I comprehend the technique. Azreal pushes the further meaning aside as he closes his eyes, drawing in a deep breath and focusing on the surrounding Qi. He visualises the energy as a flowing river, clear and vibrant, each droplet teeming with potential. Slowly, he guides the Qi into his body, feeling it circulate through his meridians, pooling in his dantian. The Qi from the mountainside is flushed with Earth based Qi from the mountain's core.
The mountain core, referred to as the Heart of the South, is one of the main reasons the Heavenly Root Sect was founded on the side of this mountain; few have ever seen the core aside from the upper echelon of the Sect. Its size is rumoured to be just larger than a horse, a core of this size will emit enough ambient Qi to support a Sect this size for the next few thousand years.
The Heavenly Creation Art urges Azreal to feel deeper, to truly grasp and understand the depths of the Qi that dances and flows around him. Initially, Azreal is only able to grasp the heavy Earth Qi as it overpowers his senses. Azreal does not let this deter him, he has steeled himself against failure, he knows it will take time, and he understands that a technique like this cannot be easy.
For Azreal, an unknown amount of time passes, the sky turns from golden to twilight, then to moonlight as stars begin to pepper the darkening canvas above as Azreal is fixed in the lotus position. The cool of the night quickly gives way to the morning's warmth, which is followed by the burning midday sun. This cycle continues a few more times as Qi begins to flow into Azreal at an increasingly rapid pace, his mastery growing with each passing hour. The sensation is both exhilarating and calming, offering a perfect blend of power and peace.
He feels the Qi within him growing denser, more potent, responding to his will with increasing ease. Next, he turns to the section on Qi circulation. The manual describes intricate patterns, pathways through which the Qi should flow to maximise efficiency and power.
Azreal follows the manual's guidance and words with the utmost care, guiding the energy through his body with meticulous detail and concentration. The sensation is completely foreign, Azreal feels the core of his Qi mobilisation technique is undergoing a complete change.
Azreal becomes transfixed with the sensation of Qi flowing through his meridians. As the Qi absorbs into his body, needle-like pains begin to occur across his body, triggered whenever his concentration slips for even a moment. The feeling of ambient Qi has become second nature to Azreal over the weeks he has immersed himself in this world. Sweat forms on Azreal’s brow; the concentration required to transform or mitigate this Qi is incredible. The slightest slip undoes hours of work and effort, a lesson Azreal has learned the hard way.
The warmth of the sun has let his mind slip, only for the briefest of seconds. Azreal's tired body and mind yearn for reprieve from the intense strain both have been enduring. Yet he endures, his sweat has soaked his body, his once dry robes now cling to his body and start to become transparent.
Each and every muscle in his body has begun to twitch and cramp, sending a lightning fast impulse of pain shooting through his body towards his mind. The time, which is passing by as the cycle of day into night and back into day continues until Azreal feels the sun bearing down on him. And after what feels like hours, yet the sun's warmth hasn't shifted, his skin begins to feel hot as the internal energies within him begin to surge.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Then, as if a dam has broken, Azreal feels his comprehension of the Heavenly Creation Art instantly surge, his tireless efforts finally coalescing into a minute understanding of how to energies from one form into another. Releasing a heavy breath and opening his eyes, the crystal blue of his iris swirls with a golden light before it seemingly retreats back into the depths of Azreal's mind. Sprawling forwards in an exhausted heap, the sweat dripping from his hair and robes, heaving in deep breaths, Azreal stares into the wooden flooring of his inner garden as his mind begins to bend and shape his memory of the technique that almost sprung into his mind.
A familiar sound jolts Azreal out of his daze in hope this will give him greater insight to his new capabilities.
Let's test this technique out. Azreal stands with a renewed vigour and with a newfound burst of energy changes his robes, wipes himself down and dons a new indigo robe. Moving with a sense of urgency, Azreal slides the wooden door of his dorm open, squinting as the sunlight pierces into his eyes. With swift steps, Azreal winds his way through the inner court heading in the direction of the Unbound Pavilion's training ground.
Azreal, unaware of how much time he has spent cultivating, immediately notices the lifted morale of the entire Sect. Disciples no longer hide in their homes and now freely walk through the winding pathways of the mountainside buildings. A sense of relief washes over Azreal as he basks in the ambient hum of the inner court and training grounds. The dorms and buildings within the inner court exude radiance and prestige compared to Xiara’s outer disciple dorm. The buildings are clearly constructed with more care and effort.
Following a pathway that leads between two student dorms, Azreal feels his skin cool as he walks through the shade cast by either dorm. Suddenly, Azreal feels his skin crawl and his instincts scream to jump backward. Without thought, Azreal dives backwards, his training and instincts heightened from the bloody battles he has fought and the deathly training from Lin Xue.
Landing on his toes, Azreal takes a few more retreating steps. His eyes dilate as he realises the figure before him is a hulking man, his bronze muscles bulging. "You shouldn't've been able to dodge that," his voice a deep growl as he unfurls and rises to his feet, towering over Azreal, the man's eyes glinting with a deep rage.
Killion? What happened to him… Azreal can't comprehend the changes that the young man before him has gone through. The last time Azreal had seen him was at the beginning of the Lingxi Grove competition and his stature was always large but never to this extent. His muscles bulge with every breath he takes, his skin stretching to its utmost limit, so much so that small droplets of blood begin to form as if skin has been grafted atop an open wound. Azreal activates his Celestial Gaze and his eye twitches.
"Why do you look so afraid? You are not the only one who can use nefarious methods to advance one's rank quickly. I never should've let you go when Darian asked me to. Your talents and abilities..." The hulking man takes a small step forward. "You have been recognised by the ones who live below," Killion says, his deep voice drooping at points and slurring as the muscle in his neck constricts with his movements.
Is he greedy, being used by the cult or was he lured by Zhan Luo? Maybe a combination of all three?
A chill runs down Azreal's back, a fear that Zhan Luo is hiding, waiting for the moment to strike is uncomfortable, and with every step the towering man takes, his rage grows. The whites of his eyes become extremely bloodshot. Another step is all it takes for the vessels in his eyes to burst, the milky whites of his eyes begin to mix with blood. With blood-filled eyes, Killion begins to mobilise his Qi, causing him to unleash an intense scream of pain and rage.
Azreal, watching the scene unfold, has already begun to act. He draws his sword Calista and begins mobilising his Qi the moment he feels his instincts tell him to dodge. "Lightning Surge!" Azreal shouts, as his body hums with Qi and crackles with lightning. In the next moment, as Killion is shouting in rage and anger, Azreal swings his sword at the side of Killion's knee.
As the blade makes contact with bronze skin, Azreal's hands sting as his blade bounces backwards. Is his skin made from stone?! What the fuck?! Azreal screams internally, yet his expression remains calm. Unbeknownst to Azreal, his heart and mind have slowly become hardened from his intense bouts of training, cultivation and bloody battles. His adaptation would be considered faster than normal back on Earth, in this world he has only just begun his dive into the depths of the brutality that will come to haunt him.
"Your ability is nothing," Killion sneers as he spits towards Azreal. Instinctively jumping backwards to avoid his spit, Azreal asks, "Killion, what kind of demonic method have you been cultivating?" as he continues to back away and enters one of the busier pathways, his eyes darting left and right.
Panic begins to set in as Azreal cannot see anyone near him. Why can't I see anyone, moments ago this pathway was full of disciples. What is happening?
Bang!
A shooting pain runs through Azreal's rib cage, he manages to glance downward as he is sent tumbling across the stone pathways, the worn down pathway offering a small reprieve from the pain.
"I watched your dorm for over a week, I began to think that you had died in there. Much to my master's dismay, we have been tasked to give you two options, join the Echoes of the Forsaken or die," an unfamiliar voice taunts.
"Choose wisely," Killion sneers as he charges towards Azreal.