Ripples of Power

Zhao Feng stood at the cavern's mouth, his body still humming with the lingering energy of his breakthrough. The mountain air was crisp, but it carried a weight it hadn't before—subtle yet undeniable, as if the very world recognized his transformation. He took a deep breath, testing his new strength. His Qi no longer simply flowed through him; it resonated, pulsing in harmony with his very being. The chaotic energy he had absorbed had mostly been refined, but traces of it still lingered in his meridians, waiting to be fully integrated.

He clenched his fist, and a surge of power responded immediately. It wasn't just raw strength—his Qi was denser, more stable. He could feel his lifeblood intertwining with it more seamlessly, making his every movement feel sharper, more alive. His perception had sharpened as well, stretching far beyond what he once thought possible. The slightest rustle of leaves, the shifting of the wind, even the faint disturbances in the Qi around him—he could sense them all.

As he stepped forward, the ground beneath his feet felt different, not just physically but energetically. The mountain itself felt as if it had stirred from slumber, responding to the power that had awakened within him. He took another step, and a ripple of Qi extended from him, distorting the air for a brief moment before vanishing.

Something had changed.

He turned his gaze toward the vast expanse of wilderness ahead. The mountains, once imposing, no longer felt as overwhelming. He could sense the energy hidden within them, the veins of Qi running through the land like unseen rivers. It was as if he had unlocked a new layer of perception, one that transcended simple sight or hearing.

But along with this newfound awareness came something else—a presence.

It was distant, barely noticeable, but unmistakable. Something—or someone—had felt his breakthrough.

Zhao Feng's expression darkened. His rise in strength was not without consequence. Just as he had sensed the energy lingering in this place before, something had now sensed him.

He wouldn't wait around to find out what it was.

Without hesitation, he leapt forward, his movements smoother than before. His Qi didn't just enhance his body—it harmonized with it, making his speed and agility feel effortless. The treetops blurred past him as he maneuvered through the dense forest, his instincts guiding him deeper into the unknown.

After nearly an hour of travel, something caught his eye—a structure partially hidden beneath overgrown vines and twisted roots. A temple.

Its stone walls were worn by time, yet the intricate carvings remained, untouched by decay. Zhao Feng approached cautiously, brushing away the vines that obscured the entrance. His fingers traced the carvings, and his heart skipped a beat.

These symbols…

They were nearly identical to those he had seen on the jade slip.

A chill ran down his spine. This place—whatever it was—was connected to the power he had just awakened.

He stepped inside, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. The air within was thick, not just with dust but with history. He could feel it—the lingering echoes of something ancient, something long forgotten by time.

The temple's interior was vast, its walls lined with more of the strange symbols. Some were carved into the stone, while others seemed to have been burned into it, their edges jagged and uneven. He walked forward, his steps slow, deliberate.

Then, he saw it.

At the center of the temple stood a broken statue, shattered at the waist, its upper half lying in pieces on the floor. Despite its ruined state, the pressure it exuded was suffocating. Zhao Feng could feel it pressing against his skin, his Qi reacting instinctively as if trying to push back against an invisible force.

He stepped closer, his breath steady but his guard raised. This wasn't just an abandoned temple—this was a place where something had happened. A battle? A ritual? He didn't know, but the energy here felt eerily familiar.

Then, the whispers began.

At first, they were faint, like a distant breeze carrying the echoes of a forgotten past. But as Zhao Feng focused, they grew clearer—not words, but impressions.

Pain.

Power.

Desperation.

The memories of someone—or something—that had once stood here.

His vision blurred for a split second, and an image flickered in his mind—a figure standing before the very same altar he now faced, their body wreathed in swirling energy, their expression twisted in pain. Then, darkness.

Zhao Feng's breath hitched. He knew what this was.

A remnant.

This place had not just witnessed power—it had consumed it.

A sudden chill swept through the temple. The whispers ceased, replaced by an oppressive silence. Zhao Feng's instincts screamed at him to move, but before he could react, the air shifted.

A presence emerged.

It wasn't like the guardian from the cavern. This one carried a suffocating malice, a force that didn't simply observe—it hated.

The shadows at the edges of the temple stirred. Something was taking shape, its form flickering between the physical and the spectral, as if it was struggling to exist.

Then, from the darkness, two eyes opened.

Cold, hollow, and filled with an ancient hunger.

Zhao Feng didn't hesitate. His Qi surged, his stance shifting into one of battle. This was no illusion. No whisper of the past.

Something had woken up.

And it was coming for him.

The air in the temple was thick with a presence that didn't belong in the living world. The shadowy figure loomed in the darkness, its form flickering between the tangible and the formless. Its eyes—pale and ghostly—pierced through the dim chamber, locking onto Zhao Feng with an intensity that sent a chill through his core.

Zhao Feng didn't hesitate. His Qi surged instinctively, flooding his meridians as he leapt backward, widening the distance between him and the entity. A faint blue glow emanated from his body, his Qi forming a protective aura around him. Yet, despite his newfound strength, he could feel it—a force pressing down on him, suffocating and relentless.

The presence wasn't just powerful—it was ancient.

The moment Zhao Feng had stepped into this temple, he had triggered something dormant. Whether it had been waiting for him specifically or if it was simply reacting to the energy he carried, he didn't know. But one thing was clear: this entity wasn't here to welcome him.

A guttural sound echoed through the chamber, neither a growl nor a whisper, but something in between. The shadows around the room coiled like living things, slithering across the cracked stone floor and creeping up the walls. Zhao Feng felt his Qi ripple in response, reacting to the energy that now flooded the space.

It was trying to devour him.

A test. A challenge. Or maybe something far worse.

Zhao Feng's mind sharpened, instincts taking over. He wasn't the same as before. His body, his Qi, everything about him had changed. He refused to let himself be overwhelmed.

Then, the entity moved.

One moment, it was a looming shadow. The next, it rushed forward, the space between them vanishing in an instant. Zhao Feng barely had time to react before a force slammed into his chest, sending him skidding backward. His feet scraped against the stone, the impact resonating through his bones. But he stayed upright, Qi reinforcing his body, absorbing most of the blow.

The figure solidified slightly—just enough for Zhao Feng to make out its form. It was humanoid, yet its limbs were elongated, its movements unnatural. Its presence felt wrong, as though it didn't fully belong to this world.

A remnant of something that once lived.

A ghost of power long since faded… but still hungry.

Zhao Feng exhaled sharply, focusing. If this thing was a lingering will, then it was likely bound to the temple, its existence tied to whatever had happened here long ago.

He had two choices: fight and destroy it—if that was even possible—or figure out the reason it remained.

The entity didn't wait for him to decide. It moved again, this time flickering out of existence before reappearing behind him. Zhao Feng barely had time to twist his body before a claw-like hand raked toward his back.

His Qi reacted instantly.

With a flick of his wrist, he redirected his energy into a burst of speed, narrowly dodging the strike. The air cracked where the attack landed, leaving a faint ripple in its wake. Zhao Feng spun, thrusting out his palm. A pulse of Qi shot forward, colliding with the entity.

The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the temple. Dust and debris kicked up around them, but the shadowy figure didn't shatter. Instead, it flickered—its form distorting, as if caught between realities.

It wasn't fully here.

Zhao Feng narrowed his eyes. If it wasn't entirely physical, then conventional attacks might not work. He needed something else. Something deeper.

His mind raced. The jade slip. The cavern. The symbols carved into this very temple. They were connected.

This wasn't just a random battle. This was a trial.

And if it was a trial, then there was a key to overcoming it.

Zhao Feng took a deep breath, forcing his Qi to steady. He closed his eyes, just for a second, reaching inward. His recent breakthrough had changed him—his Qi wasn't the same anymore. The raw power he had absorbed was still settling within him, waiting to be fully integrated.

What if this was the moment to do it?

The entity lunged again, but this time, Zhao Feng didn't dodge.

Instead, he opened himself to the energy around him.

The moment the entity's presence touched him, a shock ran through his meridians. It wasn't just an attack—it was trying to invade him.

But Zhao Feng was ready.

Rather than resisting, he pulled the energy in. He let it flow through him, merging with the residual force still lingering in his body from the cavern. It was overwhelming, like trying to grasp a raging current, but Zhao Feng had spent years tempering his will.

He refused to be consumed.

His Qi flared, surging outward in a pulse that shattered the oppressive force pressing down on him. The entity reeled back, its form distorting violently. Zhao Feng's eyes snapped open, and for the first time, he saw it clearly.

It wasn't just a ghostly remnant. It was a fragment of something far greater.

A being of immense power had once stood here, its will imprinted upon the temple itself. The figure before him was nothing more than a shadow of that power, but even a fragment was strong enough to test him.

And yet…

Zhao Feng was stronger.

He stepped forward, Qi coiling around him in waves. The force within him—the power he had absorbed from the cavern—reacted. It surged, intertwining with his own energy, stabilizing.

Something shifted.

His meridians expanded, his Qi refining again, not just adapting but evolving. He could feel it—his entire cultivation base trembling on the verge of another advancement.

Then, in a single breath, the barrier shattered.

Zhao Feng's aura surged as he stepped into the Peak Level of the Qi Foundation Realm.

This trial wasn't just about surviving.

It was about proving himself worthy.

With a final step, Zhao Feng unleashed his full strength. His Qi erupted in a pulse of absolute clarity, tearing through the lingering remnants of the shadowy figure. The entity froze, its form flickering one last time—before disintegrating.

Silence.

The oppressive weight vanished. The temple returned to stillness.

Zhao Feng stood at the center, breath steady, energy thrumming through his body. His cultivation had advanced, pushing him into a realm he hadn't expected so soon. His Qi was denser, his senses sharper. The raw force he had struggled to control before now flowed seamlessly through him.

He had succeeded.

Not just in surviving, but in ascending.

Zhao Feng exhaled, his gaze shifting toward the altar once more. The whispers were gone. The presence had faded. But something remained—a mark, left behind by the trial.

And as he turned to leave, he felt it again.

A presence watching from afar.

Not the shadowy entity from before.

Something else.

Something far more dangerous.