Please Break In a Single Attack!

Name: John Coral

Age: 23

Cultivation: Bone Refining Realm (60/400)

Upgrade Slot: Slow Toad Breathing Skill (Level 7) (3101/12800) (Upgrading at 1 point per 6.5 minutes)

Skills: Meditation (Level 6 - Max), Breathing (Level 5 - Max), Spatial Awareness (Level 5), Slow Toad Breathing Skill (Level 7)

He was now at the Bone Refining Realm, and Ferothia was growing increasingly impatient.

In the last two months, she had asked about the matter three times and even approached him once in the mining area, where she wasn't supposed to be.

John was annoyed by her persistence, but he had made a promise and couldn't back out now.

"I need to think things through before making promises again," he thought, sighing. Just then, Ferothia approached, her expression as cold as ever.

She moved closer and began mining. "You promised. Only fifteen days remain. Don't stop me when I try to kill him after that," she said.

John continued mining, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "I've told you enough times—I won't break my promise," he replied.

"Promise? You've done nothing for five and a half months. You mine, eat, and sleep. It's as if you lied to me. If you have no intention of stepping up, tell me now. I'll handle it myself today." Her face showed fierce determination.

It was clear she was tired of waiting. Over the past five months, she had visited Fatmaster's room multiple times, each visit fueling her hatred further. She wanted to act—either to end her life or Fatmaster's. But John's promise to deal with Fatmaster within six months had kept her from taking action.

John sighed at her words. "Give me two more days," he said.

Ferothia fell silent, staring at him for a moment before snorting and turning to focus on collecting spirit stones.

John didn't mind her reaction and resumed mining. He was already strong enough to escape this place; he just needed a plan.

After finishing work, John returned to his cell and sat on his mat, glancing at the open cell door. Fatmaster would soon come to lock it.

"It's better to act at night when Fatmaster is most vulnerable," John murmured, nodding. A nighttime attack would cause fewer problems and make escape easier.

Relaxing on his mat, John felt the weight of the moment he'd been waiting for. Despite a flicker of nervousness, his high mental aptitude kept him calm on the outside.

Soon, Fatmaster appeared, locked the door, and left without a word, as was his routine. Unlike other times when John ignored him, this time he watched Fatmaster's every movement.

He was going to kill him tonight. Various thoughts swirled in his mind.

Sighing, he took a deep breath to clear his consciousness and closed his eyes. Wanting to be as refreshed as possible, he quickly fell asleep.

He awoke at midnight. Standing, he washed his face and surveyed the cell. "This is the last time I'll see this place," he said with a determined expression. Approaching the cell door, he placed his hand on the giant lock.

With his Bone Refining Realm cultivation, he crushed the lock effortlessly, a testament to his newfound power. He could only imagine what higher levels would bring.

Opening the metal door, he stepped out, feeling slightly agitated but quickly regaining control. With slow, deliberate steps, he moved toward Fatmaster's room. As he neared, he heard a woman's sobs coming from inside.

John had seen Fatmaster take a girl to his room earlier that day. His resolve to kill him intensified.

Without hesitation, he expanded his Spatial Awareness to scan the room. Fatmaster was sleeping peacefully, his naked, corpulent body sprawled on the bed. In the corner, the girl Fatmaster had taken sat with her knees drawn to her chest, hands around her legs, sobbing with her head down. She, too, was naked.

John could only imagine what Fatmaster had done to her.

Gritting his teeth, he scanned for weapons and noticed several batons, but his attention fixed on a small knife hanging near the door. Nodding, he silently placed his hand on the door latch and took a deep breath. "I have to do this quickly."

Counting to three in his mind, John steadied his trembling breath, his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest.

With a surge of resolve, he pushed the heavy wooden door open, its hinges creaking faintly in the still night.

His eyes locked onto the small knife glinting faintly on the wall, its blade catching the dim moonlight filtering through a crack in the ceiling.

He grabbed it, the cold metal biting into his palm, and lunged toward Fatmaster, who lay sprawled across the bed, oblivious in his slumber.

Swift as a striking snake, John drove the knife into Fatmaster's heart with a sickening thud, the blade sinking deep before the girl in the corner could even lift her tear-streaked face.

Fatmaster's eyes shot open, wide with shock, his bloated body convulsing as a sickly blue hue spread across his sweat-slicked skin.

He saw John perched atop him, the knife buried in his chest, blood pooling beneath. "You…" he rasped, anger twisting his fleshy features into a grotesque mask of rage.

Before Fatmaster could summon his strength or cry out, John's jaw clenched with grim determination.

He ripped the knife free, blood spraying in a crimson arc, and plunged it into the center of Fatmaster's forehead.

With the raw power of his Bone Refining Realm cultivation, the blade shattered bone with a wet crunch, silencing any scream.

Fatmaster's body stiffened, then went limp, his lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

He was dead before a single thought could form in his fading mind.

John's breath hitched, the weight of the act settling into his bones.

He glanced at the knife, now slick with blood, and forced his racing heart to slow, his level five breathing and level six meditation anchoring him in the moment.

Seeing him dead, John stood and looked at the girl. "Shh…" He placed a finger to his lips, signaling silence. The girl, about to scream, stifled her sobs, her tear-glimmering eyes fixed on him.

"Don't worry, I'm here to save you," he said, picking up her clothes from the floor and tossing them to her. "Get dressed and run in about fifteen minutes. I'll take care of the guards outside."

Spreading his spirit sense, he located a box of spirit stones, grabbed it, and left the room. He found no battle techniques or other items worth taking.

Sighing, he headed toward the main exit. He didn't bother freeing the other prisoners—their lack of cultivation meant they couldn't escape the Blue Sapphire Clan. He had fulfilled his promise to kill Fatmaster; they were on their own now.

Reaching the fully metallic exit door—two meters tall and wide, with no windows—he activated his spirit sense again. Only one of the two guards was outside.

Frowning, he wondered, "Where's the other one?" But he quickly dismissed the thought. "No time to think about that. I need to escape."

Channeling the full might of his Bone Refining Realm cultivation, he gathered every ounce of strength into his clenched fist, muscles taut like coiled springs.

He assumed a punching stance, feet firmly planted on the grimy prison floor, his breath steadying as he visualized the strike.

"Please break in one hit!" he whispered, a fervent plea to the heavens, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart.

His fist shot forward, swift and precise as a mantis striking its prey, the air whistling with the force of his blow.

Boom!

A thunderous explosion reverberated through the prison, the sound crashing like a tidal wave against the stone walls.

The door buckled and collapsed, shards of metal scattering across the ground as a thick cloud of dust erupted, cloaking the corridor in a choking haze.

The inmates, roused from their restless slumber, shouted in confusion, their voices a chaotic chorus echoing behind him.

Outside, the lone guard snapped upright, his heart lurching as the deafening crash shattered the night's silence.

His trembling hand drew his sword, its blade glinting faintly in the moonlight as he stared at the fallen door, now a twisted heap swallowed by billowing dust.

"I need to alert the others!" he thought, panic seizing him.

"Anyone who can obliterate that door in one strike is far stronger than me!" He stumbled back, boots scraping against the dirt, desperate to flee and summon reinforcements.

But before he could turn, his legs faltered, a sharp sting piercing his throat.

A dagger, flung with deadly precision from the swirling dust, embedded itself in his flesh.

His sword clattered to the ground as he clutched his neck, warm blood gushing between his fingers. With a strangled gasp, he collapsed, choking on his own blood, his body crumpling into the dirt as life faded from his wide, disbelieving eyes.

John didn't linger or retrieve the dagger.

With the spirit stone box strapped to his back, he dashed out of the prison.

To his left lay a vast wilderness; to his right, the sprawling city of the Blue Sapphire Clan, with towering wooden pagodas and grand houses. A high-level cultivator from there could mean his death.

Without hesitation, he sprinted for the wilderness. In the time it takes a matchstick to burn, he vanished into the lush green forest.