Feng Qi would never return to that place. His ties with the Feng Clan had been completely severed. If there ever came a day when he returned, it would be to destroy the clan. Of course, he knew that the Feng Clan was based in Qingyao City, but the city itself was vast—the Feng Clan was nothing more than a drop in the ocean.
If fate allowed it, he would leave Qingyao City as soon as possible. In his heart, he had already calculated his next destination: the Chenyang Empire in the Far East. Still, Qingyao City housed many powerful sects. Perhaps he could obtain something from those forces—who knew, maybe a Legendary Master would take an interest in his persistence?
Feng Qi ran without stopping. Not toward the place where he used to live, nor along the road leading to Qingyao. That would have been foolish. Guards were clearly pursuing him.
After crossing a vast pasture where cattle were usually raised, Feng Qi plunged into the forest without caring about direction. He heard footsteps, the clanking of armor, and shouted orders—the village guards were close behind. The young man ran as if there were no tomorrow.
He was exhausted. Sweat poured down his face like a waterfall, and fatigue slowly overtook him. But Feng Qi was no longer an ordinary person. Normal guards could never catch him, and soon he vanished deep into the forest. Even so, he refused to rest. He knew those old monsters could reach him at any moment—and when they did, it would mean death. So he kept running.
Gradually, his body adapted to the intensity. Feng Qi felt his speed and stamina improving; he sensed that he could maintain this pace for a long time.
After breaking through a dense stretch of trees, the sky suddenly opened up. The path ended at a narrow valley, where a stream quietly wound between stones far below. The height was considerable—an ordinary person would certainly die from the fall. Feng Qi hesitated, fear gripping his heart. Then, hearing pursuit behind him, his resolve hardened. A drop of sweat slid down his face as he stared at the stream below and swallowed hard.
Without further thought, he jumped.
When he hit the water, he deliberately sank and followed the riverbed. His goal was to completely throw off his pursuers. His body trembled from the impact, but he felt no pain—at least not under the rush of adrenaline.
Feng Qi held his breath and swam with the current, tirelessly, for a long time. He remembered how, as a mortal, he could barely stay underwater for a few seconds. Now, as an Immortal cultivator, he swam for nearly five minutes without breathing—and felt he could go even longer.
After nearly thirteen minutes, Feng Qi finally surfaced in the middle of the river. He was exhausted, but his eyes immediately scanned the surroundings, wary of danger. After drifting with the current for some time and confirming the area was safe, he swam toward the riverbank.
His body felt strangely warm. He didn't fully understand why, but it gave him strength. Standing up, he pushed forward through dense vegetation.
The sky darkened rapidly as storm clouds gathered, and rain soon poured down. Feng Qi continued onward, unsure of his location or whether he was heading in the right direction. Fear crept in—he might already be completely lost. Eventually, he found shelter in a shallow cave to escape the rain.
After carefully checking the surroundings, a sigh of relief echoed inside the small cavern. He sat down and reflected on everything that had happened.
It was clear that everything had been a setup. Feng Qi felt bitter sorrow—sorrow for Li Yuhuan abandoning him, sorrow for the fact that she had personally condemned him to death. In the end, his goal of leaving the village had been realized much sooner than planned.
Now, lost in the vast wilderness, strengthening himself was an urgent priority. Dangerous beasts could be lurking nearby. Even though this region was considered relatively peaceful, it still housed creatures capable of threatening someone of his level.
This very cave, for example, could have been the den of a wild bear—or even a Demonic Beast. That would have been extremely dangerous.
Fortunately, the place showed no signs of habitation. Feng Qi relaxed slightly. Outside, the rain fell heavily while he breathed in and out, slowly and steadily.
The silence around him felt oppressive.
Leaning his back against the cold rock, Feng Qi breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling. The Qi he had compressed for days finally broke free from his restraint. It was like a dam bursting, flooding every muscle, bone, and drop of blood.
The moment he released control, the change was immediate.
Violent heat erupted from his abdomen, spreading through his body in brutal waves. His muscles contracted like taut cords, his bones crackled as if hammered from within. The pain wasn't sudden—it was deep, continuous, suffocating.
Feng Qi clenched his teeth.
The bodily Qi surged through newly opened meridians, scraping their inner walls and forcibly cleansing impurities. His blood accelerated, pulsing with a heavier, firmer rhythm. With every heartbeat, something within him grew denser, tougher.
Then—at the peak of pain—came silence.
The heat stabilized. The pressure vanished like a receding tide. Feng Qi felt the ground beneath his legs more clearly, the air filling his lungs with unprecedented depth. His senses sharpened; even the distant rustling of leaves sounded unnaturally clear.
He opened his eyes slowly.
The Second Layer of Body Refinement had been reached.
But Feng Qi knew—this was not merely an advancement. It was a desperate measure.
Lost in the wilderness, surrounded by countless dangers, he needed to raise his level further. Otherwise, survival would be far too risky.
He felt it clearly—his body was much stronger now. His skin rippled briefly before settling, gaining an elastic firmness like hardened rubber. His durability had greatly improved.
Suddenly, something churned in his stomach and surged upward. Feng Qi gagged and spat. What came out were bodily impurities—dark, foul-smelling waste expelled during Body Refinement. His body was becoming purer.
Clenching his fist, Feng Qi felt a tremendous increase in strength. He sensed that he could now roam the forest without fearing Demonic Beasts.
A foul odor rose from his body as impurities seeped from his pores.
After advancing, Feng Qi didn't move. He remained seated, guiding the newly born Qi until his body fully stabilized.
He reviewed the fight once more, absorbing experience and reflecting on techniques. Feng Shen had been more experienced, but arrogance—and Feng Qi's fortune—had decided the outcome. The raw strength in his body at that moment had allowed him to deal devastating damage.
Under normal circumstances, such a feat would have been impossible. The difference between layers alone would have prevented any meaningful harm.
Feng Qi understood his greatest weakness.
Martial techniques.
"I need combat techniques. Cultivating without knowing how to fight is meaningless. At the very least, I must know how to defend myself."
After nearly an hour stabilizing his Qi, Feng Qi decided to move on. Rain still poured outside, darkness lingering, water streaming down relentlessly. Even so, he pressed forward, reentering the forest.
Staying put was too dangerous—his pursuers might still be searching. He would not allow himself to be captured after everything he endured.
Two hours later, the rain finally stopped, but night had fallen. Moonlight guided his path through the darkness. It was dangerous, but Feng Qi feared capture more than Demonic Beasts. He could fight or flee beasts—but facing true experts would be suicide.
Despite the night, the moon rose early and illuminated his path. Hungry and exhausted, he tried to start a fire later on, but the soaked branches refused to burn. With no other choice, he pressed onward, his steps firm, his gaze resolute.
After nearly three hours of walking through the silent night, exhaustion overtook him. He rested beneath a tree and slowly drifted into sleep.
Nightmares consumed him.
He was running again—desperate. Footsteps, torches, shouting voices echoed around him. His body failed him. He was being caught.
A shadow appeared behind him.
A sword pierced his chest.
Feng Qi jolted awake.
…
It was only a dream.
He exhaled in relief, though his body still trembled. After carefully checking his surroundings and finding no danger, he continued onward.
Morning had come. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, droplets falling steadily. The ground was damp, the air thick with the scent of earth and sap. Birds sang from all directions. Insects crawled slowly among the leaves.
Feng Qi inhaled deeply. He could feel it—the area was rich with energy.
Slowing his pace, he concealed himself among the bushes and began absorbing Qi. The day would be long. He sensed he might not find a way out easily. Walking at night had robbed him of direction.
Calm was necessary.
This forest was vast, but nearby territories of other clans and families existed. Finding grazing lands would mean people were nearby.
Yet after hours of wandering hills and forests, he found nothing. Only endless trees, ridges, and peaks stretched into the distance.
He had no idea where he was.
Later, while eating roasted rabbit over a fire, Feng Qi finally filled his stomach.
"Now that I think about it… my technique manuals were left behind…"
He missed those three books. Without them, he could only refine what he already knew.
After eating, he crossed his legs, closed his eyes, and looked inward. He felt energy flowing into his body, Qi refining him little by little.
Suddenly, a sweet scent filled the air—rich with Qi.
"What is that?"
Nearby, a low-growing grass spread beneath the trees, exuding the fragrance.
"This is…"
Feng Qi didn't recognize it, but temptation overcame him. He plucked a few leaves and ate them.
The effect was immediate.
This was Ascending Qi Grass.
As he chewed, the surrounding Qi responded, flowing into his body with unprecedented smoothness.
"Incredible… this grass contains an astonishing amount of Qi!"
Between damp stones, green-blue grass swayed gently, breathing with energy. Feng Qi had discovered a treasure. He gathered and consumed large amounts of it.
"So this is what Spiritual Herbs are…"
Hours later, he felt a barrier forming.
"The Third Layer!"
The speed startled him. The Sanskrit Armor clearly held secrets beyond his understanding. His talent had been fundamentally altered—this was no longer the aptitude of a common Immortal.
Yet wary, Feng Qi chose not to break through immediately. Instead, he continued refining his foundation, strengthening himself further.
As he cultivated, a sudden crash echoed through the forest.
Feng Qi snapped into a defensive stance.
From behind the bushes, a presence leapt forth—
A Black-Fanged Wolf.
"A Demonic Beast!"
What Feng Qi had feared finally happened.The beast was furious, clearly enraged by the young man's presence. Feng Qi understood that Demonic Beasts were highly territorial and often guarded anything they regarded as a treasure. And indeed, this beast was protecting the very area where the Ascending Qi Grass grew. Such a place was vital to its evolution—it would never allow an intruder to harvest its wealth.
The beast let out another deafening roar and charged straight at Feng Qi. He narrowly dodged, but its agility was shocking. With a powerful leap, it twisted its body midair, then sprang again, slamming directly into Feng Qi.
He was sent flying away from the bushes. Fortunately, there was nothing behind him—had there been rocks or tree trunks, the injuries could have been severe.
Feng Qi was visibly shaken, yet he knew that facing situations like this was necessary to grow stronger. Cultivating alone was meaningless; one had to learn how to manipulate the energy within the body, understand personal limits, and eventually develop one's own techniques.
The beast stared at him, as if waiting for the intruder to flee. Feng Qi had no intention of doing so. Instead, it launched another attack. As it closed in, the beast snapped its jaws, but Feng Qi evaded with footwork, creating distance while carefully observing its attack pattern.
In his last battle, he had studied Feng Shen's movements, and with quick processing, he learned how to counter attacks by reading an opponent's motion.
Fighting a Demonic Beast of the same level was easier than fighting a warrior of equal cultivation.
This Black-Fanged Wolf was a Demonic Beast in the Body Refinement Realm, First Layer. Generally, Demonic Beasts possessed greater raw physical strength than cultivators of the same level, but they lacked refined techniques and combat skills compared to human warriors.
Strangely, Feng Qi adapted to the beast's attack patterns with remarkable speed. This allowed him to understand his own movements more clearly—he was, in fact, beginning to form his own fighting style.
He dodged repeatedly. Bites, claws, charges, and even strange howls followed—sounds whose purpose Feng Qi couldn't discern. Those howls were far from powerful enough to cause real harm; a true sonic attack would have required a roar strong enough to shake the ground itself.
Once he grew accustomed to the beast's pattern, Feng Qi seized an opening. He rushed in and struck with a clenched fist, aiming for the softer part of the beast's body.
Demonic Beasts were simply animals that had awakened cultivation. They were still beasts—irrational, with the same anatomy as ordinary creatures. Feng Qi had slaughtered countless animals for the village and knew exactly which areas were most vulnerable.
Using the momentum of his charge, he struck the side of the beast's body, just behind the ribs. The impact knocked the breath out of it and broke its composure. Feng Qi gave it no time to recover—he immediately grabbed its neck and twisted it. He knew this was possible; after all, a Black-Fanged Wolf was still smaller than a dairy calf. This was a technique he had used countless times while butchering livestock in the village.
Though the beast was stronger than a bull, Feng Qi's strength now far surpassed that of an ordinary human.
He quickly restrained the Demonic Beast and used all his strength to choke it. They rolled violently across the ground as a hoarse growl escaped the wolf's throat. Its limbs flailed in desperation, claws flashing—and in that moment, they raked across Feng Qi's right arm.
Feng Qi immediately released the wolf and leapt back. Blood poured freely from his arm. He clutched it tightly as a bead of sweat slid down his face. Grappling a clawed beast and allowing it to struggle was no different from offering oneself to knife-like cuts.
Four deep scratches marked Feng Qi's arm, blood flowing relentlessly. The beast staggered, trying to regain balance, collapsing and struggling to stand.
Desperate, Feng Qi charged again and delivered a powerful closed-fist strike to its throat. The beast let out a final howl and thrashed violently once more. Feng Qi did not stop until the Demonic Beast was completely dead.