The flame flickered beneath the bronze cauldron, steady yet delicate, a thin strand of Qi guiding its heat. De-Reece's fingers hovered just above the cauldron's rim, his mind teetering between anticipation and caution. The alchemic tools he'd looted were sparse—crude chisels for carving formations, small jade bottles for holding pills, and spoons of varying spiritual metals—but they would have to suffice.
He unwrapped a bundle of dried herbs, the preserved roots curling inward, and measured out a small portion of powder he vaguely recognized from the alchemy tome—a basic ingredient for low-level health pills. Alongside it, he placed a pinch of crushed crystal and a few drops of a dark liquid, swirling with faint traces of Qi. It wasn’t a complex recipe, but it was a start.
The fire beneath the cauldron crackled, and with a slight pulse of Qi, De-Reece adjusted its intensity. A small bead of sweat traced his brow, not from the heat, but from the focus required. His Qi control still felt clumsy, like trying to steer a wild horse through a narrow path.
As the mixture began to simmer, De-Reece reached out with a thread of Qi, attempting to guide the alchemic reaction. The ingredients trembled within the liquid, tendrils of steam curling into the air. For a moment, his breath steadied—he could feel the energy within the cauldron responding to his will.
Then it happened.
A sudden flare of Qi—too much, too fast. The fire roared higher, licking the sides of the cauldron. The mixture within hissed violently before blackening, the acrid scent of burned herbs filling the cave. De-Reece cursed, snatching the cauldron off the flame, his fingers stinging from the heat.
The creature in the corner flinched at the sudden noise, its violet eyes narrowing as if assessing the danger. De-Reece gritted his teeth, the charred remnants of his first attempt a bitter reminder of his inexperience. The ingredients were stolen—it shouldn’t matter if he wasted them. Yet, it did. Each burnt root, each spoiled crystal, felt like a blow to his pride.
He pressed his palm against his thigh, steadying his thoughts. "Again," he muttered, voice low, a whisper meant more for himself than the silent beast watching him.
De-Reece's second attempt fared no better than the first. He had measured the ingredients with a trembling hand, his Qi slipping at the crucial moment of infusion. The flame, too strong, scorched the powder before it could dissolve, turning the mixture into a bubbling black tar. The cauldron gave a sharp pop as the liquid seized, a foul smoke curling upwards. De-Reece’s jaw tightened, the loss of more precious ingredients a hollow thud in his chest.
Each failure gnawed at his pride. It felt like he was squandering his stolen fortune.
His third try felt more controlled. The fire stayed steady, his Qi more restrained—until the liquid Qi extract dripped too quickly. A single extra drop and the balance shattered. The potion flared, a brief pulse of wild energy cracking through the mixture. It congealed instantly into a useless, brittle lump, crumbling to ash the moment he stirred it. De-Reece exhaled sharply, fighting the urge to hurl the cauldron against the cave wall.
De-Reece adjusted the flame once more, this time keeping a tighter grip on his Qi, reigning in the wild surge that had cost him before. He measured the ingredients again, more precise this time. The roots went in first, their essence seeping into the water. Then the powder, its particles dissolving in delicate spirals. The liquid Qi extract came last, dripping slowly, each drop rippling with faint energy. Minutes stretched into an hour, each second a careful balance between control and instinct. The mixture shifted colours—first a murky brown, then a faint amber. His Qi guided the process, wrapping around the ingredients like invisible strings, weaving them together.
Then, a soft glow.
The liquid thickened, and small orbs began to form at the surface. De-Reece clenched his jaw, carefully coaxing the energy until the orbs solidified into crude, uneven pills. They weren’t perfect—not even close—but they held Qi, however faint. Health pills, low-level but functional.
After a brief respite, De-Reece set about his next task—a separate concoction, this time aimed at body refinement. He steeled himself, recalling the delicate balance needed to merge the more volatile ingredients. The fire flickered with an almost predatory hunger, but De-Reece kept his Qi steady, refusing to repeat past mistakes. Slowly, the essence of the herbs bled into the liquid, mingling with the powdered minerals. Each droplet of Qi extract fell like molten silver, the liquid darkening, then lightening again as the ingredients wrestled for dominance.
Time dragged as he adjusted the flame, sweat beading at his temples, his Qi dancing on a razor’s edge between control and chaos. Finally, the mixture thickened, and small green orbs began to rise to the surface. De-Reece guided the energy with gritted teeth, his body tense with the effort of maintaining perfect balance. One misstep, and it would all be for nothing.
At last, the pills formed—pale green, their weak aura pulsing gently from within. They weren’t masterpieces, but they were his. The result of struggle, patience, and raw determination.
De-Reece finally exhaled, his shoulders slumping. The creature tilted its head, stepping just a bit closer from its shadowed corner, nostrils flaring slightly at the scent of the freshly formed pills.
A low rumble escaped the creature's throat, its eyes locked onto the body-tempering pills. It stepped closer again, muscles coiling beneath its sleek black fur lined with glowing blue Qi veins. There was a hunger in its gaze—not for food, but for the strength within the pills.
De-Reece's hand hovered over the pills. "These are mine," he said softly, but his voice lacked any harsh tone. The creature let out a small, almost pleading growl, lowering itself slightly, a subtle gesture of submission.
With a sigh, De-Reece picked up one of the body-tempering pills, his fingers tightening briefly before he tossed it to the beast. "Just one," he muttered, watching as the creature snatched the pill mid-air, swallowing it whole. You're just Like me alone, too, he thought maybe your siblings were trying to find you, too. The blue Qi lines on its body pulsed faintly brighter for a moment before dimming back to their usual glow.
His fingers hovered over the remaining pills, and for the first time since the brutal fight at the lab, a small cocky smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Progress on his path.
As the sun began its slow ascent, streaking the forest in pale hues of dawn, De-Reece stood at the cave's mouth, a thin trail of vapour curling from his breath in the cool air. His muscles, though still bearing the strain of recent battles and cultivation breakthroughs, felt more solid—more responsive. There was a flicker of confidence in his chest, a small ember kindled by his hard-won progress.
His Phantom Shadow Steps training began in calculated silence. Each movement was deliberate, his feet striking the ground with minimal noise. He stepped—vanished—reappeared a few paces away, his form rippling like a wraith against the backdrop of morning mist. The first few attempts were shaky, his Qi surging too fast or too slow, disrupting the delicate rhythm of the technique. But De-Reece gritted his teeth and tried again.
One step, flow the Qi through the meridians in his legs—starting from the soles of his feet, guiding the energy upward through his shins, and threading carefully behind his knees. Another step, tightening the burst of Qi as it rushed toward his hips, pushing the energy into a controlled surge. Each pulse of Qi felt like a thread being tugged, a fine balance between strength and control. His movements started smoothing out, his form flickering more fluidly until his shadow seemed to blur between points like smoke caught in the wind. The sensation of disappearing and reappearing, not by speed alone but by artful manipulation of presence and internal flow, sent a strange thrill through him.
Then came the creature.
The black-furred beast, its body threaded with glowing blue Qi veins, slinked from the underbrush, its violet eyes alight with curiosity. It watched him intently, head tilted, tail flicking softly against the ground. When De-Reece vanished and reappeared again, the creature suddenly bolted forward, darting between trees and weaving through the brush with predatory grace.
For a moment, De-Reece faltered. Was it testing him?
He inhaled sharply and shifted into motion, meeting the creature’s sudden movements with his own. Phantom Shadow Steps blurred his form as he zigzagged through the forest, his body moving in sync with his Qi. The beast was quick—far quicker than De-Reece—but each time he reappeared ahead or to the side, a flicker of satisfaction sparked in his chest. He was keeping pace, even if barely.
When the creature leapt for a low-hanging branch and twisted midair to swipe at a nearby tree, De-Reece reacted—vanishing, only to reappear behind it, his blade drawn in a fluid motion before he caught himself. The beast turned, a low, pleased growl reverberating from its throat as if acknowledging his growing skill.
Exhausted but invigorated, De-Reece returned to the cave, his limbs aching but his resolve unshaken. He set down his sword and unwrapped the alchemic ingredients he had looted from the lab. The crude bronze cauldron still bore the faint scorch marks from his previous failures, but he didn't let his mind linger on past mistakes.
This time, he focused solely on the delicate art of flame control. The health pills were a struggle, but he'd cracked that process—now it was time for something a step higher.
He measured out the herbs for body-tempering pills, his fingers steady. A pulse of Qi ignited the flame, and the cauldron's base glowed a soft orange. The liquid inside rippled as each ingredient entered—roots dissolving into tendrils of golden essence, powdered minerals merging into the blend like drifting smoke. The rare, pale-blue stalk of an unfamiliar plant, something he'd looted from the alchemists' lab, floated atop the surface for a brief moment before sinking slowly, releasing a faint shimmer of Qi that danced along the liquid's surface.
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The creature watched from the edge of the cave, its nose twitching at the pungent aroma of the concoction.
De-Reece gritted his teeth as he fed his Qi into the process, adjusting the flame’s intensity as the liquid darkened to a deep jade hue. A single drop of liquid Qi extract fell into the mix, sending ripples of energy outward. Carefully, painstakingly, he guided the reaction, balancing the blend’s volatile nature.
Minutes bled into an hour before the surface shimmered, and orbs began to rise. De-Reece’s heart pounded—not from fear but focus—as the liquid congealed into small green pills. This time, they were smoother, more refined, each one a perfect sphere with a faint, swirling line etched along their surfaces—pill lines. The alchemic tome had spoken of these: subtle marks of quality and balance. However, it had also mentioned these were but the lowest form of pill lines, a mere whisper of the true mastery an alchemist could achieve. Even so, the pills pulsed with a steady Qi, stronger and more vibrant than his previous attempts.
The small creature approached cautiously, its violet eyes fixated on the freshly crafted pills, but there was a flicker of something more—curiosity, perhaps even concern. It edged closer, its nostrils flaring as it sniffed the potent Qi radiating from the pills. De-Reece noticed the way its gaze flickered between him and the concoctions, as though trying to understand his intent or his pain. For a brief moment, a strange sense of companionship stirred within him—was it merely drawn by the scent of power, or was there something deeper forming between them? nostrils flaring as they caught the potent scent of Qi swirling from them. With a soft, almost pleading growl, it pawed at the ground and looked up at De-Reece expectantly. He hesitated for a moment—these pills were a hard-earned result of his painstaking work—but with a sigh, he picked one up and tossed it gently towards the beast.
The creature snatched the pill mid-air with a snap of its jaws, swallowing it whole. Instantly, the blue Qi lines along its black fur flared brighter, like rivers of energy surging beneath its skin. De-Reece’s brows knit together in thought. The reaction was intense—too intense for a simple body-tempering pill. Was there something unique about the beast’s bloodline?
Driven by curiosity, De-Reece sifted through the alchemic tome, his fingers trailing over ancient inscriptions until he found a passage discussing high-level bloodline-improving pills. The text spoke of rare ingredients and precise Qi manipulation, far beyond his current skill level. Still, the seed of ambition was planted. He spent hours attempting the complex formula, each failure burning the ingredients to ash or causing the cauldron to sputter violently. Frustrated but undeterred, he finally pushed the tome aside and refocused his mind—he needed to master the basics first.
After clearing his mind, he returned to his sword training, channelling his emotions into his blade. Each strike was sharper and more fluid, the movements echoing a growing ruthlessness within him. Yet, with each swing, he felt an unsettling dissonance—an unyielding conflict between the raw, aggressive nature of the Heavenly Demon Sword Style and his own instincts.
He began to adapt, blending the lethal precision of his swordsmanship with the fluid unpredictability of his footwork. The Phantom Shadow Steps merged with his blade work, creating a style that seemed to strike from shifting angles, elusive yet deadly.
For a moment, De-Reece paused, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The Heavenly Demon had likely known this style was never meant to fit him perfectly—but perhaps that was the point. As a disciple of a Heavenly Demon, wasn't it expected that he carve his path, to break free from the mould and forge something uniquely his own?
As the sun dipped lower, his blade moving with a rhythm both chaotic and controlled, he whispered the name of his evolving technique: domineering Demon Swordplay.
The following morning broke with a soft hush, the forest draped in a thin veil of mist. De-Reece emerged from the cave, the creature padding silently behind him—always just a step away, like a shadow clinging to his heels. He spared the beast a glance, noting how its violet eyes flickered from him to the surroundings, ever watchful.
Today, his mind sharpened on a new goal: to refine his alchemy and strengthen his combat techniques. The night before had solidified one thing—progress was within his grasp, but true mastery required relentless effort.
He began with alchemy. The bronze cauldron, still bearing the faint scorch marks from his previous failures, sat resolute before him. Sorting through the ingredients he had looted from the alchemists' lab, De-Reece carefully separated herbs, powdered minerals, and the few precious stalks of rare plants he hadn’t yet dared to touch.
His first task: to perfect the body-tempering pills. He measured the ingredients with precise movements, each action bolstered by his newfound confidence. The creature crouched at the cave's entrance, its nose twitching each time De-Reece added something to the cauldron, a low rumble of anticipation vibrating in its chest.
Igniting a thin thread of Qi, De-Reece fed the flame under the cauldron, keeping it steady but strong. This time, there was no rushing—no reckless surges of energy. Instead, he let the flame breathe, the soft orange glow licking at the base of the cauldron like a patient predator.
The liquid darkened, shifting from a pale gold to a deep jade, the mixture bubbling and releasing thin ribbons of Qi-infused steam. Minutes stretched into an hour, but De-Reece held firm. When the first pill surfaced, his heart thudded in his chest. Perfectly round, smoother than before, and bearing the faint swirl of pill lines—still the lowest form, but a clear mark of improvement.
He managed to produce three pills this time, each one better than his last batch. The creature, unable to resist, growled softly, stepping closer. De-Reece chuckled under his breath, tossing one pill in the beast’s direction. It caught the pill mid-air, swallowing it in one smooth motion. Again, the blue Qi lines along its black fur flared, brighter and more intense than before.
“Greedy thing,” De-Reece muttered, though his tone lacked any real bite.
With the body-tempering pills completed, his focus shifted. Bloodline pills. The tome had spoken of their rarity and complexity—far beyond what he was capable of—but De-Reece wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.
He gathered the most potent ingredients he could find, carefully layering herbs and powdered cores into the cauldron. The flame roared as he fed it a thread of Qi, but this time, it spiraled out of control. The liquid inside hissed violently, a sharp pop echoing through the cave as a plume of dark smoke rose from the cauldron.
Another failure.
Grinding his teeth, De-Reece wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow and began again. This time, he slowed the process—feeding his Qi in smaller increments, monitoring the flame’s intensity with the utmost care.
Hours passed. The sun arced high, then began its slow descent. Finally, the cauldron yielded two small bloodline pills—far from perfect, their surfaces rough and uneven, but still successful.
The creature perked up instantly, slinking closer, its gaze locked onto the pills. De-Reece lifted one, considering the beast's reaction. It had devoured the body-tempering pills without hesitation—but these? There was a hunger in its eyes now, a raw intensity that hadn’t been there before.
“No,” De-Reece said softly, pocketing both pills. “Not yet.”
The creature let out a low, disappointed growl but didn’t press further.
With his alchemic work done for the day, De-Reece turned to his combat training. The weight of his sword felt familiar in his hand now—a tool no longer foreign, but an extension of himself.
He began with the foundation of his old teachings—the sharp arcs and devastating slashes of the Heavenly Demon Sword Style. But this time, he no longer adhered strictly to its rigid forms. With each swing of his blade, he wove in the fluid unpredictability of his Phantom Shadow Steps, letting his footwork dictate the flow of his attacks. His form blurred—striking from an unexpected angle, vanishing before reappearing behind an imagined opponent. It was no longer just the Heavenly Demon Sword Style—it was his style. A fusion of ruthless precision and shifting movement, unpredictable and domineering. The creature watched, its violet eyes fixed on him, and in subtle mimicry, it too shifted its stance, darting side to side with a primal echo of De-Reece's steps.
The creature watched, eyes tracking his every move.
There was a moment—when De-Reece shifted between strikes, his blade carving an unpredictable path—that he felt it. The faintest echo of something new, something distinctly his. The foundation of the Heavenly Demon Sword Style remained, but it was evolving—warping into something more fluid, more chaotic.
He paused, his blade humming with residual Qi.
A small smirk tugged at his lips. Perhaps the Heavenly Demon had known this all along—that De-Reece wasn’t meant to remain bound by the Heavenly Demon Sword Style forever but to use it as a stepping stone. The domineering demon swordplay he was now forging was a reflection of himself—his brand of brutality and fluidity. The style was a foundation, not a shackle. After all, wasn’t that what a true disciple of a Heavenly Demon did—break free from limitations and forge something uniquely theirs? The style was a foundation, not a shackle.
As the day waned, the bond between De-Reece and the creature seemed to deepen—not through words or gestures, but through mirrored actions. Each time he vanished and reappeared, the creature's movements seemed to mimic his—albeit with a feral grace that was uniquely its own.
They were both learning. Both evolving.
And somewhere in the depths of the forest, an ominous presence stirred.
De-Reece felt it at the edge of his perception—a faint ripple of Qi, distant yet undeniably there.
But his training wasn’t finished yet. As the evening crept in, shadows lengthening across the forest floor, De-Reece delved into formations—an art he knew could be the difference between survival and death. Starting with mirage formations, he practiced weaving his Qi through the delicate patterns, the air shimmering faintly as illusions flickered into existence, distorting his surroundings.
Offensive formations followed circles of carved symbols etched into the stone floor of the cave, designed to strike out with bursts of Qi when triggered. His control was clumsy at first, the formations either failing to activate or releasing weak bursts of energy. But with each attempt, his precision grew—lines becoming sharper, energy flowing smoother, the results more deadly.
Lastly, he turned to concealment formations—ones meant to mask his Qi and the entrance to the Heavenly Demon’s cultivation cave. It took hours to lay the intricate patterns, his focus unwavering. When at last the formation activated, the entrance seemed to blur, blending seamlessly into the rock face. Anyone without a sharp sense of Qi would pass right by without a second glance.
Tomorrow, his training would continue—but so too would his search for answers.
Seated within the cave, De-Reece studied the three body-tempering pills resting in his palm. They were perfectly round this time, their surfaces smoother than before, each etched with faint, swirling pill lines—a mark of higher quality. The alchemic tome had spoken of these lines, deeming them the lowest tier of such markings, but to De-Reece, they were a sign of progress.
He stared at the pills for a long moment, his thoughts drifting. Progress—it was what drove him now. Not just the sharpening of his swordplay or the deepening of his Qi reserves, but the hope that each step forward brought him closer to civilisation. Closer to his brothers. The thought gnawed at him constantly. Were they safe? Were they even alive? The forest felt endless, but somewhere beyond it lay answers. He couldn’t wander in isolation forever.
Jaw tight, he swallowed one pill without hesitation. A wave of burning heat coursed through his body, his meridians flaring as the medicinal power surged through his limbs. Muscles tensed and pulsed beneath his skin, the sensation bordering on pain—but it was a pain he welcomed. Each beat of his heart seemed to forge his body stronger and harder, his Qi flowing more smoothly than before.
When the intensity finally dulled, leaving a lingering warmth in his core, De-Reece clenched his fists. He could feel the change—not drastic, but undeniable. His body was tougher, his Qi more responsive. It was time.