Stone Country, Imperial Capital, Martial King Manor
Shi Yi was oblivious to the debates unfolding within the Martial King Manor. All he knew was the excruciating pain threatening to consume him. His flesh and sinews felt like rubber bands stretched and snapped relentlessly, quivering without end.
Each tremor strengthened his body, his power visibly surging, but the method was brutal—yanking him upward with no regard for gradual progress. If not for years of monthly medicinal baths fortifying his frame, he'd have been torn apart by the raw energy of the pureblood beast's true blood.
As it stood, Shi Yi's single arm could unleash ninety thousand jin of force, nearing the limit of a pureblood beast cub. He was just a step away from the fabled one hundred thousand jin.
Not all pureblood beasts were equal, just as humans varied in potential. Only the mightiest cubs—like those of the Golden-Winged Dapeng, True Hou, Pixiu, or Qilin—could surpass ninety thousand jin in their youth. A malnourished cub might even fall short of Shi Yi's current strength.
His near-parity with the strongest pureblood cubs was no accident. The Martial King Manor had poured every resource into forging an unshakable foundation for him, ensuring he could walk a path to greatness.
Shi Hao, being younger, received the manor's scraps—yet even those were lavish by ordinary standards. Such was the privilege of noble blood. The true blood of archaic descendants, though inferior to purebloods, was a treasure countless outsiders would kill for.
Only a powerhouse like the Martial King Manor, home to Venerable Realm experts like Shi Zhongtian (Old Fifteenth), the Martial King (Old Eighth), Old Ninth, Old Eleventh, and Old Thirteenth, could secure such rare archaic descendant blood. As for pureblood true blood, the manor's nine jars were a legacy from their ancestor, who slew a Fire Qilin on the Hundred Clan Battlefield. Preserved until now, they were among the manor's greatest treasures.
The Hundred Clan Battlefield was a savage arena where vary races vied for supremacy—pureblood creatures and archaic descendants clashing under the aegis of Upper Realm powers. It existed across the Lower Realm's Eight Domains, with legends claiming its ultimate victor could ascend to the Upper Realm.
But ascension often meant servitude—slavery, or even becoming a mount.
The Upper Realm, known as the Nine Heavens and Ten Lands, encompassed three thousand Dao Provinces. The Eight Domains of the Lower Realm combined were but a single province's size, equivalent to ten thousand blue planets. These three thousand provinces occupied just one of ten boundless continents in the Nine Heavens and Ten Lands, where over ninety percent of the territory was forbidden, leaving less than ten percent for habitation.
The Lower Realm's Eight Domains—Heaven, Earth, Mysterious, Yellow, Cosmos, Eternity, Vast, and Desolate—were a microcosm of the Upper Realm, crafted by ancient powers as a small world. Shi Yi and Shi Hao's Desolate Domain was merely one continent among them.
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Shi Yi endured not only physical torment but a dire crisis in his soul sea.
Within its azure expanse, a hundred-meter-tall pureblood beast loomed—a Fire Qilin cub, its bared fangs and ferocious glare radiating malice. Slain in its youth on the Hundred Clan Battlefield by a Shi Clan ancestor, its resentment burned beyond measure.
To absorb its true blood, Shi Yi had to conquer its vengeful will. Failure meant his soul shattering, his body reduced to a soulless husk.
Roar!
The Fire Qilin, formed of pure resentment, was a near-perfect replica of its living self: lion head, deer antlers, tiger eyes, elk body, dragon scales, ox tail, wreathed in blazing flames. Its car-sized eyes locked onto Shi Yi, its massive frame pacing restlessly. At over a hundred meters tall, it dwarfed the six-year-old boy, barely a meter high, as if a single breath could obliterate him.
But strength wasn't dictated by size. Size set a baseline, not a ceiling. The Qilin's death at human hands proved it hadn't been invincible.
Time dragged on.
Finally, the resentment-forged Fire Qilin lost patience. It raised a massive forelimb, aiming to crush Shi Yi's soul with a single step.
Even as a mere specter of will, it held the power to annihilate his soul. The hundred-meter beast's stomp shook the soul sea like an earthquake, its might undiminished in this ethereal realm. Shi Yi's soul quaked under the lethal threat.
At the critical moment, Shi Yi, seated in the large bronze cauldron outside, slowly opened his eyes.
In an instant, the sky darkened.
Across the Martial King Manor—across all of Stone Country—the heavens dimmed. Countless enormous eyes, each bearing double pupils, replaced the twinkling stars of the night sky. These chongtong eyes weren't lifeless; they shifted and searched, as if hunting for something.
Anyone daring to meet their gaze felt reduced to an ant, insignificant and exposed.
"Beast!"
Shi Yi's voice was soft but commanding, spitting out two words. The chongtong eyes in the sky snapped to the Martial King Manor, locking onto the Fire Qilin in his soul sea. The resentment-forged beast froze mid-strike, its forelimb mere centimeters from Shi Yi's soul—a gap that might as well have been a chasm.
"Dead is dead. Rest in peace."
Shi Yi narrowed his eyes. A surge of unimaginable pupil force erupted, obliterating the Fire Qilin's resentful form in an instant.
Huff.
As Shi Yi exhaled, closing his chongtong and dispelling the celestial phenomenon, he thought it was over. But then, a flood of memories poured into the depths of his soul sea.
The memories were chaotic. Shi Yi filtered out the useless ones—like a Fire Qilin chasing a mate, failing, and entering the Hundred Clan Battlefield to hone its strength.
After sifting through the deluge, he found something valuable.
"Qilin Steps?"