Pain was an artist, and Li Chen's body was its canvas. Every movement, every shallow breath, was a fresh stroke of agony. With hands that trembled from both his injuries and exhaustion, he began his work. The architect's mind saw the perfect, holographic blueprint overlaid on the grimy cellar floor; the disciple's body struggled to obey.
He treated the Ironwood splinters like sensitive wiring, nudging them into place with a shard of stone. His inherited memories gave him a rudimentary control over his Spiritual Qi, but it was a pathetic trickle, a sputtering candle flame in a world of bonfires. He focused, pushing a thread of this energy into his fingertips as he placed each of the precious Silver-vein Copper shards onto the three anchor points left from the old array.
The final piece was the small, low-grade Spirit Jade fragment. He placed it in the center of his makeshift diagram, the designated alarm node. Taking a deep, ragged breath, he pressed his palm against it.
"Activate," he whispered, pushing the last dregs of his Qi into the circuit.
For a moment, nothing happened. Despair, cold and sharp, pricked at him. Had he been a fool? Was his knowledge useless here?
Then, a soft hum vibrated through the stone floor. A faint, almost imperceptible web of blue light flared between the components for a single second before vanishing. In his mind, the System's interface shifted.
[Resonance Cascade Warning Array - Mk. 1 is now ACTIVE.]
[Status: Stable. Monitoring external spiritual fluctuations.]
[Power Draw: Minimal. Passively sustained by ambient Qi.]
Li Chen slumped back against the wall, a wave of dizziness washing over him. The effort, small as it was, had nearly knocked him unconscious. But a fierce, triumphant pride burned through the haze of pain. It worked. His first creation in this new world was alive.
As true darkness fell outside, the sounds of the Azure Serpent Mountains began to rise. The chirps of insects were punctuated by distant, guttural howls that made the fine hairs on his arms stand up. He was a single, wounded sheep in a forest of wolves. He closed his eyes, not to sleep, but to focus his entire consciousness on the silent hum of his array. He was the watchman, and his creation was the wall.
An hour passed. Then another. The cold of the stone cellar seeped into his bones. Just as a fragile sense of security began to settle in, a sharp, mental jolt ripped him to full alertness.
[ALERT! External Spiritual Signature Detected! Quadrant North!]
On the System's mental map of the area, a small, red dot appeared, moving slowly towards the ruins. It was sniffing the air, drawn inexorably by the overwhelming scent of death.
Li Chen's heart hammered against his fractured ribs. He held his breath, every muscle tensed. The red dot crept closer, stopping just outside the rubble that concealed his cellar. He could hear it now—the scrape of claws on stone, a low, predatory growl rumbling in its chest. His inherited memories supplied a name: a Corpse-Eater Hyena, a low-tier spiritual beast known for scavenging battlefields. Weak by a cultivator's standards, but more than enough to tear his wounded body to shreds.
The hyena took another step, its paw crossing the invisible boundary of his array.
FZZZ-THRRUMMM!
A pulse of pure, raw energy, far stronger than the Qi Li Chen had put in, erupted from the ground. It wasn't an attack, but a sudden, jarring wave of spiritual noise and disorienting light that flashed for only an instant. The Corpse-Eater Hyena yelped, leaping back as if struck. It shook its head, whining in confusion. The patch of ground looked no different, smelled no different, yet it had delivered a sharp, painful shock to its spiritual senses.
It growled, circling the area warily, but refused to step past that invisible line again. The easy meal was not worth the strange pain. After a few tense moments, it gave one last frustrated snarl and trotted off into the darkness, seeking easier prey.
The red dot on Li Chen's mental map faded away.
[Threat has retreated. Array integrity at 99%.]
Li Chen let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, his body trembling with adrenaline and relief. He had done it. He had survived his first night. A dry, rasping laugh escaped his lips, which quickly turned into a violent, body-wracking cough. He tasted fresh blood.
A new, urgent notification flashed in his System.
[WARNING: Host vitals deteriorating. Qi exertion has exacerbated internal injuries. Body Integrity at 16%. Immediate medical intervention required.]
The grim reality crashed back down on him. His array could warn him of danger, but it couldn't mend his broken body. He was living on borrowed time.
"System," he gasped, his voice raspy. "Forget the surroundings. Run a full diagnostic scan… on me. Analyze my injuries, my fractured spiritual core, everything. And then… find me a solution. There has to be a blueprint for this."