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Chapter 13
1,148 words · 10 days ago
The first rays of dawn bled through the swamp’s thick mist as Li Chen opened his eyes.
He had slept lightly, his thoughts half-bound to the rhythms of Qi in the air. Now, as the marshland held its breath, he sat quietly beneath the thick roots of a moss-covered tree and exhaled slowly.
The Silver Muscle Stage, the second level of Body Refining, was within reach.
The Qi around him was dense with wood and water essence, but he had adapted. He sifted out what he needed, fire, faint as a whisper, and thunder, thin as mist. But under pressure, control sharpened. Focus deepened.
He drew it inward.
In his inner vision, silver light began to creep across the final strands of muscle. One by one, threads pulsed, hardened, and shimmered until the glow stretched through every inch of his flesh.
Then came the flood.
Qi surged through his core, not wild, but complete. A quiet roar that echoed through bone and tendon. His heart beat once, hard, and his breath steadied into something deeper.
He had entered the Silver Muscle Stage.
✦ Technique Unlocked: ThunderFire Refining Technique
Muscles thickened, strengthened. Reflexes sharpened. Every movement now carried not just weight, but intent.
He rose to his feet and tested the change.
He struck a stone column with a straight punch.
Crack!
The rock split halfway through, chunks falling to either side. His knuckles remained unscathed.
His lips curled upward. “This... is the strength I need to face the serpent.”
But his growth wasn’t normal.
He could feel it now more than ever, his bloodlines accelerating the transformation.
He recalled the clan scrolls: a Heaven Grade bloodline produced cultivators four times stronger than those with a Yellow Grade lineage.
And yet, he had two, one demonic, one unknown.
What would they make of him, if they knew?
He exhaled, calming his thoughts.
Power alone doesn’t kill serpents. Planning does.
He spent the morning preparing.
From his ring, he retrieved scavenged herbs with mild poison resistance and crushed them into a dull-green salve. He wrapped it into a cloth and bound it to the hilt of his dagger.
It wouldn’t stop venom, but might dull its sting.
He climbed a high tree and again observed the Mudhorn Serpent from a concealed perch.
It coiled around the base of the black willow tree like a drawn bow. Still, but never asleep.
The Blood Fruit had darkened to a full, rich crimson. Its single pulse now throbbed visibly.
Li Chen narrowed his gaze.
Strike from the blind side. Use the terrain. Avoid the fangs.
He descended.
His steps were silent, but the serpent still noticed.
Its head lifted slowly, golden eyes glinting in the filtered light.
Then it lunged.
Hisssssssh!
Venom streaked across stones, sizzling as it struck moss and bark.
Li Chen was already moving.
He called thunder Qi to his legs, dashing sideways as the beast coiled again. His Perception Pulse flared to life, everything slowed. He saw the twitch in its tail, the arch of its jaw.
He flicked a pulse of illusion, a blur meant to throw its aim.
It hesitated.
But only briefly.
The spiritual gap between them was too wide.
The illusion shimmered and broke like fog in wind.
Not strong enough. Not yet.
But he didn’t stop.
The serpent struck again, tail smashing into a tree, shaking roots. Li Chen rolled beneath it, leapt onto an exposed boulder, then vaulted forward as it twisted to catch him midair.
At the last moment, he dropped flat against the serpent’s scaled back and drove his knee into its spine.
It howled, body thrashing wildly.
He nearly lost his footing, but that was the moment he needed.
Demonic strength surged through his core.
He gripped the serpent’s horn, twisted mid-coil, and slammed it into a jagged stone ridge.
The beast reeled, stunned.
Li Chen moved in a blur, thunder Qi crackling around his arm. He plunged his dagger up into the soft underside of its lower jaw, burying it to the hilt.
Shhhlick!
The serpent’s body shuddered violently, then collapsed, coiling in on itself, then stilling.
Venom hissed from a severed gland, narrowly missing his boot.
He stepped back, chest heaving. His arms ached. His spirit felt like smoke, thin and flickering.
Even with all his breakthroughs, even with both bloodlines, he had nearly lost.
Too much Qi, too fast, he thought. Even my blood can't burn forever.
He approached the tree.
The Blood Fruit glowed faintly, as if acknowledging him. Its skin was blood-red with faint green streaks. The heartbeat he had felt for days now pulsed more clearly, slow, rhythmic, alive.
He reached forward, hand trembling slightly, not from fear, but something else.
And as his fingers brushed the fruit’s stem, a heat bloomed in his chest.
Not from the fruit. Not from his cultivation.
But from his blood.
Something within him recognized it.
Ancestral memory. Instinct.
Legacy.
He cut the stem cleanly, wrapped the fruit in Qi-woven cloth, and stored it inside his ring.
Blood Fruit
A first-level herb that replenishes vitality and accelerates recovery. The last ingredient for the Stone Body.
Then he turned to the serpent.
Its scales shimmered slightly. Water Qi still clung to its coils, and a strange shimmer traced along its body.
It’s evolved, he realized. The fruit didn’t just grow here. It fed the beast. They were tied.
He extracted its heart blood and sealed the body away as well.
Mudhorn Serpent Heart Blood
Water-aligned heart blood from a mid-tier 1st-level beast, changed by the Blood Fruit it guarded.
A victory earned, and carried with weight.
By twilight, Li Chen had returned to his hollow near the swamp’s edge.
He dropped to one knee, then sat cross-legged, beginning a recovery cycle.
His wounds were healing fast. Accelerated Recovery pulsed through his flesh like quiet fire. But his spirit... was frayed. Burnt around the edges.
He didn’t cultivate that night.
He simply breathed.
“I’ve taken my first real step... not just toward strength, but toward survival.”
He thought of the tournament ahead. Of his parents, their quiet trust. Of what lay beyond the forest.
And then the dream returned.
The crimson tree, clearer than ever.
Its roots coiled through sky and stone. Its leaves shimmered like blood kissed by starlight.
And beneath it, a figure stood.
Shrouded. Silent.
As Li Chen stepped forward, the figure began to turn.
But before the face came into view, he woke.
His heart beat once.
And somewhere deep within him, something stirred.
Not pain. Not power.
But awakening.
He gazed into the fading night, toward the hills beyond the swamp.
“The fruit is mine...” he whispered.
“...but so is the burden it brings.”
And dawn crept over the trees, painting the world in gold and red.