The quiet rustle of leaves outside the simple wooden hut marked the gentle passage of time. Inside, a faint wisp of incense curled through the air as Li Yao sat cross-legged upon a reed mat. The early morning light filtered through the slatted window, casting soft shadows across the worn wooden floor.
He opened his eyes slowly, gaze calm. The weight in his dantian had changed- his Qi no longer flowed like a gentle stream, but roared with the steady pressure of a solidified foundation. It had been three weeks since he entered Foundation Establishment, yet he felt no complacency.
He reached for a bamboo slip lying on the low table beside him- a sect calendar marked with important events.
He frowned slightly, calculating. "Three months and two weeks from now."
That wasn't long.
A cultivator's journey was more than meditating behind closed doors. It required facing death, understanding fear, and learning to temper one's heart amidst chaos. He had reached Foundation Establishment, yes—but he had not yet fought a real battle since his breakthrough.
What he lacked wasn't cultivation. It was experience.
And more importantly… the sharpening of his will.
When Li Yao arrived outside Deacon Bai's courtyard, he found the elder quietly pruning a plum bonsai beneath the old peach tree.
"You've come," Bai said without looking up.
Li Yao cupped his hands respectfully. "Master. I wish to leave the sect for some time- to temper myself and return before the secret realm opens."
Bai clipped a branch cleanly. "You wish to risk yourself, only weeks after forming your foundation?"
"I believe this is the right time. My foundation is stable. But I lack the edge that can only be found beyond these walls."
The old cultivator gave a long hum and finally looked at him. "The path of tempering is not wrong. But remember, it is easy to lose your life in pursuit of growth."
"I understand."
After a pause, Bai rose and flicked his sleeve. A pouch flew into Li Yao's hands, and a dark red armor set appeared beside it- thick yet flexible leather with fine runes embedded throughout its surface.
"This armor is made from the hide of a Grade Three Rockhide Lizard," Bai said. "It won't stop a killing blow from a core cultivator, but it'll turn away most Foundation-level attacks."
He pointed to the pouch. "Inside are a few Grade One talismans- Barrier, Flame Spike, and a Windstep escape charm. And…"
He drew out a small brass compass etched with complex runes. "This is the most valuable- don't lose it. It holds a top-tier Grade Two Illusion Formation. Once activated, your enemies will fall into a temporary hallucination. Use it to escape or strike first."
Li Yao accepted the items with both hands and bowed deeply. "Thank you, Master."
Bai looked at him for a long time. "You have talent. And you have the will to walk far. But in the end, only one thing matters- life. If danger exceeds what you can handle, do not hesitate. Prioritize your life."
Li Yao nodded. "I will."
The mission hall on Emberheart Peak stood tall, carved into the side of a cliff with red banners fluttering along its stone path. Li Yao entered quietly, his presence drawing no attention.
Unlike the outer sect, where gossip was rampant, the inner sect buzzed with too many strong figures for him to stand out. No one paid him any mind- a robed youth with a calm gaze and a humble presence.
Most here were known by name. Li Yao was not one of them.
He walked past radiant disciples with embroidered sashes, some surrounded by junior followers. He didn't mind. Fame meant little on a battlefield.
Hours passed as he scanned the mission listings- most were too long, or required a team, or led into disputed lands. Eventually, a crimson-stamped scroll caught his eye.
Mission: Destroy the Silent Hollow Cult's HideoutDuration: 1–2 monthsTarget: Demonic Cult operating in Shadowed RidgeThreat: Several Qi Refining experts, one Foundation Establishment cultivator rumoredTravel: Approx. 14 days round-tripReward: 500 merit points + spoils
It was just right. Challenging, but not suicidal.
As he turned to submit the mission, a faint gust stirred his sleeve. A sharp sword aura entered the hall.
Li Yao looked over and saw him.
Yan Mu.
Dressed in clean white robes marked with Swordwind Peak's emblem, his figure was tall, his expression serene, but his eyes carried a quiet edge that mirrored the blade at his hip. He was already known among the inner sect as a sword prodigy, direct disciple of a peak elder, Foundation Establishment talent, and now one of the sect's selected candidates for the Secret Realm.
Yan Mu's gaze passed over the room, then paused.
He approached.
"You're… Li Yao?" he asked.
Li Yao cupped his hands. "That's right."
"I fought with you at the outer sect tournament," Yan Mu said calmly. "You've reached Foundation Establishment?""I have."
Yan Mu seemed faintly surprised, but didn't show it. "Impressive. Which peak are you from?"
"I'm still part of the Herbal Garden Division," Li Yao replied honestly.
The surprise flickered again in Yan Mu's eyes- but he didn't pry. "I see. Then congratulations. You've come far."
Li Yao nodded politely. "Likewise. I heard you were selected for the Secret Realm."
A faint smile touched Yan Mu's lips. "Yes, but you also seem to have quite the talent by break through the foundation establishment realm at your age."
Li Yao held up the mission scroll. "I was about to take this mission. It suits the time frame, and the threat level is manageable."
Yan Mu read through it and raised an eyebrow. "A demonic cultivator hideout… You were going alone?"
"I was."
Yan Mu considered it, then looked up. "Want to join forces?"
Li Yao didn't hesitate. "Gladly."
"Then we should submit the token before someone else claims it," Li Yao said.
Together, they stepped toward the mission elder, who confirmed their joint application. The token glowed crimson and vanished into the record crystal, marking the mission as claimed.
Not long after, the two found themselves at the Spirit Beast Pavilion. The keepers examined their mission tokens, then brought out two steeds.
One, a black spirit horse with flame-patterned hooves- Blazefang. The other, a wind-borne gray steed with cloudlike markings- Stormstep.
"They're yours," the beastmaster said. "Return them alive."
The sun was lowering on the horizon when Li Yao mounted Blazefang and Yan Mu took Stormstep. Without a word, the two cultivators rode out from the gates of Embercloud Sect, shadows long behind them and the road unfurling toward unknown battle.
For strength. For tempering.
And for the secrets awaiting in the depths of the world.