The Pathless Domain

The cold wind howled through the desolate mountains as Li Jue stood at the edge of a steep cliff, staring into the abyss below. Ming Xian had brought him here to teach him the first technique of the Forbidden Art—Energy Devour, a foundational method for cultivating power without spiritual roots.

"Your first lesson," Ming Xian said, his raspy voice cutting through the winds, "is to discard everything you think you know about cultivation. Forget meridians, forget spiritual roots. Power is not given; it is taken."

Li Jue furrowed his brow. "But how do I take power without a root to guide it?"

"By force," Ming Xian replied sharply. "The Forbidden Art doesn't rely on harmony with the heavens. It demands submission from the world around you. Now, sit and focus."

Li Jue sank into a cross-legged position, his eyes narrowing as Ming Xian continued.

"Close your eyes. Feel the energy in the air. It's faint, scattered, but it's there. Imagine it as a storm, chaotic and untamed. You are the center of that storm, the eye that commands it."

Li Jue obeyed, letting the elder's words guide him. His senses expanded outward, and for the first time, he felt faint ripples of energy in the environment—a wild, untamed force just beyond his grasp.

"Good," Ming Xian said, his tone uncharacteristically encouraging. "Now, here comes the hard part. Command that energy to move. Not with kindness, but with dominance. You are not asking. You are demanding."

Li Jue exhaled slowly, his mind reaching out. He could feel the energy resisting him, slipping away every time he tried to seize it. His frustration grew.

"Stronger!" Ming Xian barked. "Do not hesitate. Fear is your enemy."

Gritting his teeth, Li Jue pushed harder. The energy shuddered and, for a fleeting moment, obeyed. It surged toward him before splintering apart, leaving him gasping for air.

Ming Xian laughed. "Not bad for your first attempt. But you lack conviction. If you don't believe you deserve power, the world won't give it to you."

Li Jue's hands clenched into fists. "I'll try again."

"No," Ming Xian said, shaking his head. "You'll do it again. Trying is for those who plan to fail."

That night, as the fire crackled in their makeshift camp, Ming Xian placed a small, obsidian orb before Li Jue. Its surface pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.

"This is a Tier-One Soul Artifact," Ming Xian explained. "A Blackheart Orb. It can store and amplify energy, but it feeds on the life force of those who use it. Perfect for someone like you, who has nothing to lose."

Li Jue studied the artifact. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Bond with it," Ming Xian said simply. "Channel your will into the orb. Make it yours. If you succeed, it will grant you access to its stored energy. If you fail…" He smirked. "Well, let's just say you won't have to worry about your lack of roots anymore."

Li Jue hesitated. The orb radiated a malevolent aura, as if it were alive and hungry.

"Scared?" Ming Xian taunted. "You should be. But fear is a luxury you can't afford."

Without a word, Li Jue placed his hand on the orb. A sharp, icy pain shot through his arm, and he felt a foreign presence invading his mind. It whispered dark promises, tempting him with visions of power.

"Focus!" Ming Xian barked. "Do not let it control you. You must dominate it, or it will consume you."

Sweat poured down Li Jue's face as he wrestled with the artifact's will. The whispers grew louder, more insistent, but he gritted his teeth and pushed back.

"I am not your servant," he growled. "You will serve me."

The orb trembled violently, its black surface cracking as a surge of energy erupted from within. Li Jue gasped as the power flooded his body, searing through him like molten fire. When it finally subsided, he collapsed, panting.

Ming Xian's eyes gleamed with approval. "Congratulations. You've taken your first step toward true power."

The next morning, Ming Xian began teaching Li Jue the first technique unlocked by the Blackheart Orb—Soul Rend Slash, a skill that used the energy of the artifact to create devastating attacks.

"Watch closely," Ming Xian said, drawing a rusty blade from his side. Despite its poor condition, the weapon thrummed with an ominous energy. "This is a Tier-Two Spirit Weapon—the Bloodfang Saber. It's crude but effective for demonstrating the technique."

He swung the saber in a wide arc, and a crescent of black energy shot out, slicing through a nearby boulder like it was paper.

"The key," Ming Xian explained, "is to channel the artifact's energy into your weapon. Let the artifact guide the flow, but don't relinquish control. Now, you try."

Li Jue picked up a dull iron sword—his only possession resembling a weapon—and focused on the Blackheart Orb. He felt its energy stirring, eager to be unleashed.

"Slowly," Ming Xian cautioned. "The orb is powerful, but it's unstable. If you overdraw, it will consume you."

Nodding, Li Jue raised the sword and swung. A faint arc of energy flickered out, barely visible before dissipating.

Ming Xian snorted. "Pathetic. Again!"

Li Jue gritted his teeth and tried again, and again, each attempt stronger than the last. Hours passed, and his arms ached, but he refused to stop. Finally, with one desperate swing, he unleashed a proper slash of energy that cleaved a tree in half.

"Good," Ming Xian said, his tone begrudgingly approving. "You're learning. But remember, this is only the beginning. The path you've chosen is steep and treacherous. One misstep, and it will devour you."

Li Jue's gaze hardened. "Then I'll make sure I don't falter."

That night, as the two sat in silence, Ming Xian spoke without looking at Li Jue. "Do you know why I'm so harsh on you?"

Li Jue shook his head.

"Because the world will be harsher," Ming Xian said. "If you can't survive me, you won't survive what's out there. The sects, the clans, the beasts of the wilderness—they'll all try to crush you. You're rootless, which makes you an easy target. But it also makes you dangerous. No one expects you to rise, which means no one will see you coming."

Li Jue stared into the fire, his resolve hardening. "Let them try. I'll rise anyway."

Ming Xian smiled faintly. "Good. That's the spirit. Now rest. Tomorrow, we begin your training in artifact refinement. If you want to survive in this world, you'll need more than just borrowed power. You'll need weapons of your own."

---

The morning sun bathed the mountain in a pale golden glow as Ming Xian spread a collection of strange tools, rare materials, and battered scrolls before Li Jue. Each item carried an aura of ancient power, some faint, others oppressive.

"Artifact refinement," Ming Xian began, his voice deliberate, "is an art of creation. But for you, it will be a battlefield. A cultivator with spiritual roots refines artifacts by channeling their energy into materials to merge them into one. You, on the other hand, will need to subjugate the materials themselves."

Li Jue frowned. "Subjugate?"

Ming Xian smirked. "Yes. These materials aren't lifeless—they are infused with the essence of the world. They resist. They rebel. And you, boy, will make them obey."

Li Jue glanced at the assortment before him. Among the items were a jagged piece of Void Iron, a shimmering fragment of Starfallen Crystal, and a small vial of Phantom Serpent's Blood. Each radiated danger in its own way.

"Start with this." Ming Xian handed him the Void Iron. Its surface was jagged and cold, like the shards of a broken night sky. As soon as Li Jue touched it, a sharp, biting pain shot up his arm, and he instinctively dropped it.

Ming Xian laughed, the sound cold and mirthless. "Afraid of a little iron, are you? Weaklings flinch. You, if you want to rise, must endure."

Li Jue picked it up again, his hands trembling as the iron's energy clashed against his will. The artifact seemed to resist his very existence, rejecting him like the world had for so many years.

"Calm your mind," Ming Xian instructed. "Feel its defiance. Don't fight it directly. Instead, surround it. Envelop its will and crush it like a predator with its prey."

Closing his eyes, Li Jue focused, allowing his senses to expand. He felt the Void Iron's chaotic energy swirling, lashing out in fury. Slowly, he imagined his will as an unyielding tide, encircling the iron's rebellious essence. His breathing steadied, and the energy began to weaken.

"It's bending," Li Jue whispered.

"Not enough," Ming Xian barked. "Break it completely. Show it there's no escape."

Li Jue pushed harder, his mind sharpening into a blade. The Void Iron let out an audible hum, and then, with a faint crack, its resistance shattered. The once-chaotic energy flowed smoothly into his hand.

Ming Xian nodded, his expression unreadable. "Good. You've taken the first step. But remember, refinement isn't just about subjugation. It's about integration. You've conquered the iron, but now you must bind it to something greater."

He reached into his robes and produced an unassuming dagger, its blade chipped and dull. "This is a mundane weapon, barely worthy of the name. But with the Void Iron, it can become something far more deadly."

Li Jue studied the dagger. "And how do I do that?"

"With this." Ming Xian handed him a small engraving pen made from Black Draconite. "Inscribing a formation onto the blade. Formations are the key to refining artifacts—they channel energy, amplify it, and give the weapon its abilities. But be warned: a single mistake will cause the formation to collapse, destroying the weapon—and possibly you."

Li Jue took a deep breath, gripping the pen tightly. "I'll succeed."

"Bold words," Ming Xian muttered. "We'll see if they're empty."

---

Hours passed as Li Jue painstakingly inscribed the formation onto the dagger. The process was delicate, requiring absolute focus. His hand trembled as the pen carved glowing runes into the blade, each one pulsing with faint energy. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, but he refused to falter.

Finally, as the last rune connected with the others, the dagger began to vibrate. A faint black mist seeped from the Void Iron, merging with the weapon. The blade's dull surface darkened, becoming as black as the void itself.

"It's done," Li Jue said, his voice hoarse.

Ming Xian examined the weapon, a rare look of approval on his face. "Not bad. You've created a Tier-One Artifact Weapon. I'll call it the Shadowfang Dagger. Its energy is sharp, lethal, but unstable. Perfect for assassinations, but don't rely on it too much—it'll drain your stamina with every use."

Li Jue held the dagger, feeling its weight and the faint hum of power coursing through it. For the first time, he felt a glimmer of accomplishment.

"Don't get cocky," Ming Xian said, interrupting his thoughts. "This is only the beginning. The cultivation world is filled with artifacts far superior to this one. Tier-Two Heavenpiercers, Tier-Three Moonbreakers, even Tier-Five Celestial Relics. Your Shadowfang wouldn't even scratch their surface."

Li Jue's grip tightened. "Then I'll make stronger weapons."

Ming Xian's lips curled into a smirk. "That's the spirit. But remember, forging a powerful artifact isn't just about skill—it's about resources. Rare materials, high-grade formations, and energy sources. All of which you'll need to take by force. No one will hand them to you."

---

The following days were grueling. Ming Xian pushed Li Jue to his limits, forcing him to refine several more artifacts, each one more challenging than the last. He worked with materials like Obsidian Bone, Thunderfire Sand, and even a drop of Crimson Phoenix Blood, each requiring a different approach to conquer.

Li Jue's understanding of refinement grew with each success—and each failure. His hands were covered in cuts and burns, his body aching from the constant strain, but he refused to stop. The Shadowfang Dagger, now his most reliable weapon, served as a reminder of what he could achieve through sheer determination.

One evening, as Li Jue finished refining a crude gauntlet made from Ironshade Ore, Ming Xian spoke.

"You've done well, boy," he said. "But your progress has caught the attention of others."

Li Jue looked up, confused. "Others?"

"The beasts," Ming Xian said. "This mountain is home to many creatures, some of which guard treasures you'll need. They can sense your growing strength, and they won't ignore it. If you want to continue refining, you'll need to prove you're worthy to remain here."

Li Jue's eyes narrowed. "Let them come. I'll face whatever challenge they bring."

Ming Xian chuckled. "Good. Because the first one will be here by sunrise."

---

That night, as Li Jue sat sharpening the Shadowfang Dagger, he heard a low growl in the distance. The air grew heavy, and the ground trembled faintly. A single, glowing pair of eyes appeared in the darkness.

"A Tier-One Spirit Beast," Ming Xian said calmly, watching from the shadows. "The Crimson Ridge Wolf. Its fur is like iron, and its claws can shred through stone. Its core would make an excellent energy source for your next artifact. But first, you'll have to kill it."

Li Jue rose to his feet, the Shadowfang Dagger gleaming in his hand. The wolf stepped into the firelight, its crimson fur bristling, its fangs bared.

Li Jue's heart pounded, but he steadied himself. He was no longer the weak boy sitting beneath a dying willow tree. This time, he would fight.

And this time, he would win.