chapter 10 “Training”

The first day was hell.

Every breath Lu Yan took felt like fire searing his lungs. His body was drenched in sweat, but it wasn't enough to cool the suffocating heat. His muscles ached, his veins burned, and the Qi that surrounded him in the Lower High Qi Energy Practice Area was like a living thing—unforgiving, cruel, and relentless.

It didn't take long for him to realize how harsh the environment was. The air was thick, dense with spiritual energy that weighed heavily on his every movement. It felt like the ground itself was pressing down on him, urging him to kneel, to surrender. But Lu Yan's resolve was unshaken. This was his path, and no matter how painful, he would walk it. He had no choice.

His mind flashed back to the books he had read about cultivation, about the steps it took to reach the realm of Qi Condensation. He had studied them obsessively, memorizing the basics of the cultivation process, the techniques, the inner workings of Qi—everything he could get his hands on. But nothing could have prepared him for this. The theory and knowledge he had absorbed were nothing compared to the reality he was facing now.

"Focus," he muttered through gritted teeth as he slowly drew in his first breath of Qi.

It was like swallowing molten lava. The energy surged into his dantian, a swirling vortex of raw power that clawed and scraped its way through his body. His veins bulged, his heart pounded in his chest, but Lu Yan forced himself to remain still. He had to endure this. If he wanted power, he had to survive this baptism by fire.

By the second day, the pain had not subsided—it had only intensified. The raw, untamed Qi assaulted his body from every direction. Every time he attempted to circulate the energy through his body, it felt like a violent storm tearing through him. His control was shaky at best, and he could barely keep his consciousness from fading.

The pain was almost unbearable. His muscles locked up, his joints refused to move, and even his eyes felt as though they were about to burst from their sockets. But Lu Yan didn't give up. He gritted his teeth and kept forcing the Qi to move.

His first attempts were clumsy. The Qi was unruly, refusing to follow his commands. It clashed violently within his body, sending waves of pain throughout him. He had seen others, back in the cultivation sects, move their Qi as though it was second nature. But for him, it was a chaotic maelstrom—a whirlwind that threatened to tear him apart.

"Concentrate…" His mind screamed, but the pain was relentless. He knew he couldn't afford to lose control. Not here. Not now.

Hours passed, maybe days, as he forced himself to circulate the energy, trying to get a feel for its flow. Finally, something clicked. It wasn't much, but for the first time, Lu Yan felt the Qi obey him. It was faint—a small, steady current that moved from his dantian through his meridians, but it was enough. He wasn't being consumed by the energy. For the first time, he was in control.

On the fourth day, Lu Yan had refined the basics of the Qi Circulation Technique—a method of guiding the spiritual energy through the body to strengthen the practitioner's physical vessel. The technique was simple but crucial for every cultivator. It was the foundation that everything else rested on.

He focused on the flow of energy, his dantian the center of his control. As his mind settled into a rhythm, he began to feel the Qi settle within him, forming into a stable cycle. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough. His veins no longer throbbed with pain as they had before, and his body began to feel lighter, more energized.

He had made his first breakthrough, reaching a stable foundation in the Qi Circulation technique. His body felt different—stronger, more attuned to the natural world. The world around him felt sharper, more vivid. The trees, the rocks, even the distant birds—everything pulsed with energy, and he felt as though he could reach out and touch it.

But he wasn't content. He knew he had barely scratched the surface.

On the seventh day, Lu Yan began to focus on the second aspect of his cultivation—combat. His studies had told him that without the ability to fight, a cultivator was nothing more than a fragile shell, ripe for destruction. No matter how much Qi he could circulate, no matter how powerful his body grew, if he couldn't defend himself, he was doomed.

It was time to master the sword. The Basic technique Sword Slash.

The technique was simple. The first stroke was a slash straight through the air. The second was a horizontal cut that sliced through the wind. The third was a finishing blow, a diagonal slash aimed to cleave through anything in its path.

It was nothing more than the basic sword technique used by beginners. But for Lu Yan, it was the first step toward mastering the blade. He gripped the sword with both hands, his palms slick with sweat. The weight of the blade felt strange in his grip—heavy, unwieldy. He swung it through the air, trying to mimic the motions he had read about. But his movements were jerky, unrefined.

The Qi inside him, still raw and untamed, didn't flow smoothly with the sword. It clashed with his movements, causing his strokes to falter. The power behind each strike was weak, as though the sword was an extension of his uncertainty.

But Lu Yan wasn't discouraged. He had no time to be discouraged. Every failure, every misstep was just another lesson. So, he kept swinging, over and over, until the sword became a part of him, until the motions flowed naturally and the Qi aligned with each slash.

By the twelfth day, Lu Yan had begun to master the basic movements of the sword. His strikes were faster, more precise. His Qi flowed more naturally through the sword, following his intent. The simple Sword Slash had transformed in his hands. It no longer felt like a tool—it felt like an extension of his very being.

Each slash cut through the air with a satisfying sound, a clean, crisp motion. The first slash felt like a gust of wind, the second like the force of a storm, and the third—a strike of thunder. His body had grown stronger, his grip more solid, and his technique more fluid. His control over his Qi had deepened, and it began to resonate with each movement of his sword.

But even as his sword technique grew, Lu Yan knew this was only the beginning. The Sword Slash was a basic first form, a foundation to build upon. There was more to learn, more to master.

On the fifteenth day, Lu Yan began the next phase of his training: strengthening his body. No cultivator could survive on Qi alone, and he knew that the physical vessel was just as important as the spiritual energy that powered it. He had read about the Body of Steel, a technique that hardened the flesh through the use of Qi.

He stood in the clearing, his arms raised, and began the first exercises. He circulated Qi through his muscles, focusing it on his skin, his bones, his organs. It wasn't a technique of power—it was one of endurance. The Qi flowed through his body like a river, and he guided it, forcing it to flow into his physical form.

The sensation was strange at first—he could feel his muscles tightening, his skin becoming more resilient, and his bones growing denser. It wasn't painful, but it was a strange, foreign sensation. His entire body seemed to hum with energy, vibrating as though every cell in him had been awakened.

By the end of the day, Lu Yan could feel a subtle difference in his body. His skin had become tougher, his bones stronger. He had begun to forge a solid foundation, one that would support the cultivation to come.

By the twentieth day, Lu Yan had come to understand the most important lesson of cultivation—the heart. It wasn't just about the body or the sword or the techniques. It was about the spirit, the intent behind every movement, every strike. Qi was not just energy. It was life. And to truly wield it, he needed to align his heart with it.

As he meditated beneath the pale moonlight, the world around him grew quiet. His thoughts became clearer, his intentions sharper. The Qi flowed through his body like a river, calm and steady, no longer a wild torrent. He felt the energy around him, within him, like a pulse in the universe.

His cultivation had reached its first milestone. The energy within him was no longer raw—it had taken shape. He had reached Qi Condensation, and though the road ahead was long, he knew that he was on the right path.

By the thirtieth day, Lu Yan returned to his shelter, he had changed. His body was stronger, his sword technique sharper, and his control over Qi more refined. But most importantly, his heart had solidified. He could feel the power within him growing, deepening, every moment. The path to true cultivation was still far ahead, but he was no longer afraid.

His body screamed in agony as he pushed through the initial waves of Qi, every movement an excruciating struggle. But Lu Yan didn't hesitate. He knew this was the only way forward. His resolve was unbreakable, the fire within him burning brighter with each painful step.

His muscles felt as if they were being torn apart from the inside out, every fiber stretched to its limit as the Qi tried to invade him. His veins throbbed with unbearable pressure, a constant reminder that this was not the gentle flow of energy he had studied about—it was chaos incarnate, an untamed force that threatened to rip him apart.

His hand clenched tightly around the hilt of his sword, the metal slick with sweat, but it was the only thing that kept him grounded. His thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion, pain, and determination. He had no choice but to push forward. The Qi roared in his ears, mocking him with its strength, but Lu Yan refused to be intimidated. This was the beginning of his true trial, and he would rise to meet it. 

Lu Yan stepped out of the shelter, his eyes squinting against the harsh light that streamed through the forest canopy. His body was still burning with the aftereffects of the intense Qi practices from the past few days. But today was different. Today, he would face real challenges. The world beyond his shelter, beyond the tranquility of controlled cultivation, awaited him.

The Lower High Qi Energy Practice Area had been suffocating, pressing on him from every angle. The dense spiritual energy had been a constant struggle—too chaotic, too harsh, but now, it felt like a preparation. The real test of his power lay outside.

He had read about the demonic beasts that roamed the area: Level 3 Demonic Rabbits and Demonic Cows. They were creatures of formidable strength, perfect targets to gauge his current cultivation abilities. Strong enough to provide a challenge, but not so overwhelming that they would crush him outright.

His eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any sign of movement. The trees were silent, their trunks thick with age and the remnants of ancient energy. The air smelled of damp earth, but there was something else beneath that—the scent of danger.

His heart hammered against his chest as he concentrated, listening for any sound, any clue that might give him a hint of what lay ahead.

And then, he heard it. A rustling in the underbrush. His eyes narrowed.

A Demonic Rabbit, Level 3, emerged from the shadows. Its fur was a strange shade of gray, its eyes glowing with an unnatural, predatory light. The rabbit was large, nearly three times the size of any normal rabbit, and it had sharp claws that gleamed like knives. It was not just a rabbit—it was a force of nature, a deadly creature of the wild.

Lu Yan's pulse quickened. This was no ordinary beast. This was a beast of Qi, a creature that lived and thrived on the same energy he was trying to control.

Before he could even think, the rabbit lunged, its claws slashing through the air with a speed that would have torn through a lesser cultivator like paper.

Without hesitation, Lu Yan reacted. His feet shifted, his body moving with an agility he had never thought possible. The world seemed to slow down around him as he summoned his Qi, directing it into his legs. With a burst of speed, he dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the rabbit's claws.

The ground beneath him cracked as he planted his feet, his mind racing. He could feel the energy swirling within him, but it was still raw, untamed. He could barely control it.

Focus, he reminded himself.

The rabbit spun, its eyes locking onto him with a ferocity that only a demonic beast could possess. It wasn't just hungry; it was enraged.

Lu Yan reached for the sword at his side, the weight of the blade feeling heavy in his hand. He had practiced with it—sword slashes, strikes, techniques—but this was different. This was real combat. And the rabbit was no ordinary opponent.

With a sharp breath, he steadied his stance, aligning his Qi with his blade. His body trembled slightly, his control still not perfect, but he couldn't afford to hesitate.

The rabbit charged again, faster this time, its claws aimed at his throat. Lu Yan swung the sword, his movements still stiff, but his Qi flowed more naturally than before. The blade cut through the air with a resounding whoosh, and for a brief moment, Lu Yan felt the power in his strike.

The sword connected with the rabbit's claws, and the beast screeched in pain. The force of the blow sent it skidding back, a trail of blood staining the ground. Lu Yan's breath came in ragged gasps, but he held his ground.

He could feel the rabbit's Qi, its anger, its hunger, but more than that—its desperation. This creature was powerful, but it was also limited by its own nature.

Lu Yan wasn't limited.

With a roar, he leapt forward, his Qi exploding from his body, flooding his limbs with strength. The rabbit tried to counterattack, but Lu Yan was faster. His sword flashed, a single stroke that cleaved through the air and sliced deep into the rabbit's side.

The beast collapsed to the ground, twitching, before falling completely still. Lu Yan stood over it, his chest heaving with exhaustion. The battle had been short, but it had drained him. His control over the Qi was still imperfect, and that imperfect control made every movement, every action, more difficult than it needed to be.

The rabbit's body was already beginning to fade, dissipating into spiritual energy as it perished. Lu Yan didn't bother to watch it vanish. He was already moving, searching for his next test.

And it wasn't long before he found it.

The Demonic Cow, Level 3, stood towering over him. Its body was massive, easily twice the size of any ordinary cow, its skin a deep shade of red, veins of dark energy running through its muscles like rivers of fire. Its eyes glowed with a demonic light, and when it bellowed, the very air around it trembled.

Lu Yan felt the pressure of its Qi immediately. It was strong—powerful beyond reason. But it was also slow, lumbering. It was a beast of brute force, not speed.

His heart beat faster. This would be his true test.

The cow charged, its hooves pounding the earth like thunder. Lu Yan didn't wait for it to get any closer. His feet moved, his body flowing with the grace he had developed over the last few days. He could feel the Qi coursing through his veins, each pulse of energy granting him more strength, more control.

The cow's horns came at him like spears, but Lu Yan was already diving to the side. He rolled across the ground, his sword in hand, and thrust it forward with a burst of Qi. The sword sank deep into the cow's side, but the beast barely flinched.

Shit.

Lu Yan gritted his teeth, his Qi flaring up as he jumped back to his feet. This wasn't enough. The cow was too tough, too resistant to his strikes. He needed more power.

He took a deep breath and gathered all the Qi he had left, focusing it into a single point—his sword. His palms sweat as he gripped the hilt, his body screaming with fatigue. But this was the moment. This was where it would all come together.

The cow lunged again, but this time, Lu Yan was ready. He swung his sword, the blade crackling with Qi as he released everything he had into the strike. The blade tore through the cow's body with terrifying force, and the beast let out one final roar before collapsing.

Lu Yan stood over it, panting heavily. He had done it. The Level 3 Demonic Cow was dead.

But his victory felt hollow. The fight had been grueling, taxing every ounce of his energy, and it had reminded him just how far he still had to go.

Exhausted, Lu Yan returned to his shelter. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the forest floor. His body ached, his muscles sore, but he couldn't rest. Not yet.

There was one more task left. Cleaning.

His shelter was modest, but the dirt and grime from his days of cultivation had accumulated, and it was time to set things right. He gathered some leaves and stones and began clearing the debris, sweeping the ground with a steady rhythm. It wasn't the most glamorous task, but it was necessary. He had to keep his surroundings clean, for his mind to remain sharp, for his cultivation to flourish.

While he worked, his thoughts drifted. Cooking.

Cooking. It was a skill he had never thought to learn. But after a grueling day of combat, there was something satisfying about preparing food. Something grounding. So, he set about making a simple meal, using what little ingredients he had scavenged. His hands were shaky from exhaustion, but he managed to cook a small, hearty meal over a fire.

As he ate, it was kind not that good considered its his first try, but the exhaustion hit him all at once. so he had eaten,