Blood Refinement

In a dimly lit tavern, the smell of spilled alcohol and old wood permeated the air. Rough men surrounded a table, glasses in hand, while a man with a sinister gaze sat at the center, telling stories and gossip.

"... Ah! So, you want to know about the Three Devourers? Well, I know a bit... and I can tell you what I know…" His voice carried a dark and mysterious tone, causing the candle flames to flicker even more restlessly. The other men stared at him wide-eyed, leaning in so as not to miss a single word.

"It was a cold, dark night. No one expected them... but they arrived like devouring shadows. To this day, no one knows if they're human or ghosts, living or dead. All that's known is they choose one city at a time to attack... their targets are always the most powerful and wealthy families. Some even say..." He paused, placing a hand on his throat. "Cough, cough... sorry, my throat's bad... I think that's all for today..."

Silence fell over the tavern, and the men stared at him in disbelief, frustration appearing on their faces.

"Oh, come on! Don't stop now!" One of them shouted, slamming a mug on the table.

Another man rolled his eyes and stood up. "Give the man a drink, it's on me." He tossed a bronze coin on the table with an impatient gesture.

The storyteller grinned mischievously, a sly sparkle in his eyes. Soon, a full glass was placed before him, and he took generous gulps, nearly emptying it in one go.

"Ahh! I'm alive again!" He exclaimed with exaggerated enthusiasm, drawing annoyed grumbles around him.

"Come on, keep going!"

"Yeah, stop stalling!"

"Go on! Go on! Go on!"

The men started pressuring him, impatient.

He placed the glass on the table calmly, stretched his back, and continued:

"Well, where was I? Oh, right! They say that when they enter an estate, they suck the souls of everyone living there... and leave only the strongest. Then, one of the Devourers fights them, using only technique, never strength. If they lose to the Devourer, their soul is also taken. The next day, everyone wakes up, but... a part of their souls stays with the Devourers. They're never the same again. Oh, and they take all the family's manuals if they're defeated."

The man's voice was cold and dragging, like a whisper from beyond, until the last part, which sounded a bit odd.

Even so, fear gripped the tavern. Some men shivered, others cast furtive glances at the shadows on the walls, as if expecting something to emerge from them.

"A-And what if someone beats the Devourer?" One of them asked, his trembling voice breaking the deathly silence.

The storyteller's smile faded as he looked away, his eyes vacant as if seeing a distant nightmare.

"If someone wins?..." He let the question hang in the air, a biting cold enveloping the room.

"... No one's ever won."

…

Aotian was in his room, lying on the floor, exhausted from his exercises. Even so, he was still living through his avatar's perspective.

The avatar of Elder Lie was in that tavern, listening to the story with a look of pure bewilderment.

'What the hell do you mean "I suck their souls"?! I just knocked them out, okay?! If they get depressed afterward, that's not my fault. And what's with this "test with the strongest of the family"? I just want to gain combat experience, damn it.' Aotian rolled his eyes internally, annoyed at the storyteller and all those idiots in the tavern who were terrified.

A month had passed since he became rich, and all this time he had spent locked in his room training. Meanwhile, he used the avatars to steal cultivation manuals and enhance his combat experience in various cities. That bizarre misunderstanding ended up giving rise to the legend of the "Three Devourers."

However, Aotian didn't steal randomly. He always checked if the families were corrupt before acting, and so far, he hadn't found a single clean one. Moreover, he only took the manuals, intending to return them in the future, if possible.

Ironically, his "thefts" brought an unexpected benefit: the fear of the Devourers curbed the arrogance of the great families, who previously treated common people like trash.

Aotian let out a sigh and smiled as he looked at his status panel.

[Host: Long Aotian

Cultivation: Mortal (Perfect Stage of Skin Refinement)

Physique: Mortal

Aptitude: No Spiritual Root

—-------------------------

Sect: No Name

Level: 0 (Not qualified as a sect)]

'Good, after resting a bit, I can start the Blood Refinement.' Aotian smiled, excited.

Seeing his power grow day by day was addicting.

Aotian then slowly got up from the floor and approached a wall in the corner, where he picked up a sword leaning against it.

He unsheathed the blade, and the friction produced a sound that cut through the silence, a soft and subtle sound—the "song of the sword."

'Let's see...' Aotian hesitated for a moment before placing the sharp blade against the palm of his hand. Carefully, he drew the sword, attempting to cut his skin.

After completing the motion, he looked at his hand and sighed in relief when he saw no mark at all.

'If I applied more force, my skin would break easily. But with little force... this sword is of impressive quality, worth 40 gold coins—the most expensive one from Wubao Pavilion. The fact that it didn't cut my skin is a great demonstration of my flesh's resistance.' Aotian reflected, satisfied.

Conventional martial arts, despite their advantages, belong to the mortal realm. Only upon reaching the innate stage do they truly become superhuman.

Ordinary skin refiners using conventional manuals would have their skin easily cut just by the weight of Aotian's blade, without him applying any force. The light pressure he used would likely have been enough to dismember them. On the other hand, his skin's resistance was a clear reflection of his extraordinary manual.

'Well, I can't wait any longer; I want to start Blood Refinement now!' Aotian murmured, determined, and then looked at the manual Elder Bao had evaluated.

[Sword Master's Manual of Mount Luo: Innate Level Training Book

Condition: Well-preserved.

Description: Manual of the famous sword master of Mount Luo. Originally lost and half-destroyed, later repaired and enhanced.

Note: When fully trained, it can generate peak sparse five-element roots.]

'After perfecting the levels of skin and blood refinement, it reached the level of generating peak sparse roots.' Aotian reflected before preparing for his training.

Normally, the term "peak" still falls under the high-level category.

The levels within a realm are divided as follows: low level goes from the 1st to the 3rd, middle level from the 4th to the 6th, and high level from the 7th to the 9th. The previously mentioned peak refers to the 9th level, and perfection occurs when the 9th level is taken to the extreme, just one step away from the next realm.

'I'm not sure, but since the manual analyzed by Elder Bao mentions peak instead of 'perfection'—although both normally indicate the 9th level—I believe this is not by chance. It's very likely that the limit of a perfect sparse spiritual root jumps a level, reaching the Foundation Establishment. If everything goes well, when I improve the bone refinement section of my manual, the root should evolve into a perfect innate root, and my chance of obtaining true spiritual roots will lie in the essence refinement,' Aotian reflected.

He also remembered the progress of the elders and the sect leader. When he reached the final level of skin refinement, his avatars' levels also increased, and now, at the perfect level, they rose another level.

Sect Leader: Foundation Establishment 1st Realm → Foundation Establishment 3rd Realm

Elders Lie and Bao: Qi Refinement 1st Realm → Qi Refinement 3rd Realm

'One more realm, and the elders will also reach the required level for the sect mission.' Aotian planned.

[Conditions to become a Qi Refinement Sect:

1 - Sect leader at the advanced level of Qi Refinement

2 - Two inner elders at the mid-level of Qi Refinement

3 - Two disciples with good qualifications

4 - Train two disciples to the 1st level of Qi Refinement]

'Once I reach that level, I can look for disciples to complete the mission. However, I think it's better to find some high-quality Qi Refinement legacies before that. The ones I've found so far are low-level; I can't waste the disciples' talent on bad exercises.' Aotian reflected, thinking about the legacies he had found so far.

The biggest challenge wasn't the low quality but the scarce quantity. He had only found five legacies so far, three of which were from the first day he arrived in Zhenxia City.

With enough legacies, he wouldn't need to worry about quality; after all, he could synthesize them. However, the rarity of the legacies became a challenge.

He could also synthesize a high-quality legacy using the sect leader's ability just from experiments and experience, without other legacies, but that would take a lot of time.

Besides searching for legacies and stealing martial arts, Aotian was also looking for real cultivators, but he hadn't found anything relevant yet.

Shaking his head, Aotian stopped worrying about those things. Now was the time to focus on Blood Refinement.

Following the manual, Aotian assumed new postures, different from those used in skin refinement.

Performing the exercises, he felt his blood and veins pulsating under his skin, causing a slight pain, but his body resisted due to the perfection of his skin refinement.

When the blood pulsed, it quickly calmed and returned to his heart, flowing to the other organs.

This was how Blood Refinement worked. In the strengthened veins of his skin, a tiny amount of spiritual energy was inserted, causing a violent energetic reaction in his blood. This process was resisted by his skin and strengthened veins.

After the initial reaction, the energetic blood was forcibly calmed by the exercises and flowed to his heart, which then pumped it through his body, reaching his organs and nourishing them.

This is why the Blood Refinement realm was also known as the "Organ Refinement Realm."

This process was very slow and complex because one could not directly insert spiritual energy into the organs of someone who wasn't born with an aptitude for spiritual energy and didn't have spiritual veins to protect their body.

Aotian then continued his training until exhaustion.

Lying on the floor, completely worn out, he looked at his status once more.

[Host: Long Aotian

Cultivation: Mortal (Early Stage of Blood Refinement)

Physique: Mortal

Qualifications: No Spiritual Root

—-------------------------

Sect: Nameless

Level: 0 (Not qualified as a sect)]

Then, he looked at the levels of his avatars and was disappointed to see that they hadn't changed.

'I just entered Blood Refinement, and my strength hasn't increased much since the perfect level of Skin Refinement... Makes sense. Martial arts are not cultivation realms. They are merely training to enhance mortality. Unlike Qi Refinement to Foundation Establishment, which causes a leap in strength, martial arts are like a human training at the gym. You don't go from lifting 20 kilos to 100 kilos overnight. It's a constant progression, step by step.'

Aotian had a sudden realization, and many of his doubts dissipated.

'The avatars' realms are based on my realm. But Skin and Blood Refinement aren't levels of a realm called 'mortal'; they're just cultivation stages. If there were a realm called mortal, with my current strength, I would be at the 3rd level of that realm.' He reasoned, now clearer about what was happening.

As he rested and stared at the ceiling, a bitter feeling arose within Aotian.

'If I could train in peace, I would soon reach the innate stage. But this damned city is getting more and more crowded. I feel like the disasters that befall so many protagonists who isolate themselves are about to fall on me too.' He couldn't help but feel frustrated.

"Damn it!"