Chapter 29--- The Peak of Body-Refining (2)
The night was deep.
So deep that even the distant noises of the town had long since faded into nothing. Inside the sealed room, only the faint sound of breathing remained, slow and heavy, like the rhythm of a great beast slumbering beneath the earth.
Hao Tian sat unmoving.
His back was straight. His eyes were closed. His hands rested naturally on his knees.
But inside his body, a storm was raging.
The medicinal energy of the high-grade Body Refining pill was still surging, still compressing, still refining. It had already carried him past the Middle Ninth Stage. It had already pushed him into the High Ninth Stage. And yet, it showed no sign of fading.
Instead, it was gathering.
Condensing.
Pressing inward from every direction.
His muscles were tight as drawn steel. His bones felt as though they were being squeezed by invisible hands, each inch of them groaning under unbearable pressure. His skin glowed faintly red, then darkened, then returned to normal, cycling again and again as waves of heat and cold alternated within him.
His heartbeat was slow.
Heavy.
Each thump echoed through his ears like a drum struck in a vast, empty hall.
He could feel it.
The final boundary.
The invisible but absolute wall that marked the limit of Body Refining.
Beyond it lay nothing within this realm.
To cross it meant to reach the peak.
The absolute completion of the mortal body.
The medicinal energy surged again, crashing into that final barrier.
The barrier did not yield.
Not even a little.
Instead, the rebound sent a deep, tearing pain through his entire body.
Hao Tian's brow furrowed.
His jaw tightened.
But his breathing did not break.
He did not panic.
He did not rush.
He had already learned that walls like this could not be broken by recklessness.
So he changed his approach.
Instead of slamming the energy forward, he began to circulate it more slowly. More deeply. He guided it into every hidden corner of his body, into places he had never even been aware of before. He let it temper his flesh. Let it polish his bones. Let it cleanse his blood and marrow again and again.
Impurities continued to seep out of his pores, dark and foul-smelling, only to be replaced by something denser, purer, more refined.
Time lost its meaning.
At some point, dawn came.
Then night fell again.
Then dawn returned.
Hao Tian did not notice.
He only felt the pressure inside his body growing heavier and heavier, like a mountain being built on his shoulders grain by grain.
And slowly…
Very slowly…
The final barrier began to change.
It did not crack.
It did not tremble.
But it began to thin.
Just a little.
As if the constant compression and refinement were wearing it down, layer by invisible layer.
Hao Tian sensed this change.
His focus sharpened even further.
He gathered the medicinal energy again.
Not explosively.
Not violently.
But completely.
Every last strand that his body could still hold.
Then, with a will as steady as iron, he pushed.
The pressure inside him skyrocketed.
His bones emitted a series of faint cracking sounds, not from breaking, but from being forced into an even denser, more perfect structure. His muscles spasmed violently. His meridians burned as if molten metal were being poured through them.
Blood slowly seeped from the corner of his mouth.
His vision darkened.
For a moment, his consciousness wavered.
Then—
Something deep inside him gave way.
It was not loud.
Not dramatic.
It was like the quiet collapse of a wall that had stood for countless years.
In that instant, Hao Tian felt as though something fundamental had changed.
The circulation of qi and blood completed itself in a way it never had before. His entire body felt unified, whole, as if every part of him had finally been forged into a single, complete piece.
The pressure vanished.
The pain receded.
A profound, heavy, grounded strength filled every inch of his being.
He had reached the Peak of the Ninth Stage of Body Refining.
The absolute limit.
The end of this realm.
The medicinal energy finally began to fade.
But even as it did, it left behind something astonishing.
His body did not feel merely "full."
It felt… perfect.
Not flawless.
But complete.
As if it had reached the highest state it could possibly achieve before stepping into a higher form of existence.
Hao Tian did not move.
He continued to sit there, breathing slowly, letting this new state settle, stabilize, and become truly his own.
Another day passed.
Then another.
He did not cultivate.
He did not push.
He simply existed within this new body, letting it adapt, letting every part of it accept and harmonize with the transformation.
When he finally opened his eyes, they were clearer than they had ever been.
Deeper.
Calmer.
He slowly stood up.
There was no explosive aura.
No overwhelming pressure leaking out.
But when he casually clenched his fist, the air itself seemed to compress around it, letting out a faint, dull boom.
He looked at his hand.
Then at the wooden table not far away.
He walked over and placed his palm on it.
Gently.
He did not use any technique.
He did not exert himself.
He simply pressed.
The table did not break.
It did not crack.
It collapsed.
Silently.
As if it had never been more than dust.
Hao Tian withdrew his hand and looked at it for a long moment.
Then he turned and walked into the small courtyard.
He bent down, picked up a stone used to weigh down a water jar, and tossed it lightly upward.
Then he flicked his finger.
The stone exploded into powder in midair.
Not fragments.
Powder.
He let out a slow breath.
There was no excitement on his face.
Only a quiet, deep understanding.
This was the limit of the mortal body.
Beyond this point, further progress would no longer be about flesh and bone alone.
It would be about Qi.
About true cultivation.
About stepping onto an entirely different path.
He returned to his room and sat down.
His gaze fell on the spiritual sword he had bought.
A Mortal-tier, Rank 2 weapon.
A weapon meant to be infused with Qi.
He picked it up.
The blade felt light in his hand.
Too light.
Not because it was poorly made.
But because his body had become too strong.
He slowly drew it.
The blade let out a clear, ringing hum.
He made a simple, casual swing.
The air split.
A thin line appeared on the far wall.
A moment later, the wall slid apart.
Hao Tian sheathed the sword.
He sat down again.
For a long time, he did nothing but think.
About the road behind him.
About the road ahead.
About how far he had come from the days when a single meal was uncertain.
About how close he now was to the true threshold of cultivation.
Then he closed his eyes.
Not to cultivate.
But to rest.
Because he knew—
The next step…
Would be even more demanding.
And far more dangerous.
......
The morning light slipped through the window lattice and fell across the floor in pale, quiet lines.
Hao Tian opened his eyes.
For a moment, he simply lay there, listening to his own breathing.
It was slow.
Deep.
Steady.
Each breath felt heavier than before, not in a suffocating way, but in a grounded, powerful way, as though his lungs were no longer merely drawing in air, but something thicker, something more substantial.
He sat up and stretched his fingers.
The faint creaking that came from his joints was not the sound of strain, but of density—of a body that had been compressed, refined, and tempered to its absolute mortal limit.
Peak Ninth Stage of Body Refining.
Even now, the words still felt slightly unreal.
He closed his eyes and turned his awareness inward.
His flesh, bones, blood, and organs felt unified, like a single, perfectly forged piece of metal. There were no longer any obvious weak points. His heartbeat was powerful and steady, his blood flowed like a great river, and even his bones carried a faint, deep heaviness that he had never felt before.
He stayed like that for a long time, doing nothing but quietly circulating his breathing and letting this new state settle even further.
This was consolidation.
He had learned the hard way that breakthroughs taken without consolidation were nothing more than castles built on sand.
Only when the foundation truly became part of him could he move forward without fear.
After more than an hour, he finally opened his eyes.
His gaze was calm.
Clear.
And far more composed than it had been in the past.
He stood, washed, changed into clean clothes, and prepared a simple meal. As he ate, his mind slowly began to shift from his own body to the path ahead.
Body Refining was finished.
Completely finished.
From now on, further improvement of his physical body would no longer come from stages and realms, but from slow, long-term tempering and the nourishment of Qi.
Which meant…
He had reached the true threshold of cultivation.
Qi Refining.
The moment he thought of it, his expression grew thoughtful.
Qi was not strength.
Not directly.
Qi was energy.
It was the invisible essence of heaven and earth, the foundation of all higher cultivation. Unlike Body Refining, which relied on tempering flesh and bone, Qi Refining meant learning to sense, absorb, refine, store, and control this external energy within oneself.
Only by doing so could one begin to truly step onto the road of immortality.
He exhaled slowly.
He knew very well that this step was not simple.
In fact, compared to Body Refining, Qi Refining was an entirely different world.
And the first problem he faced was also the most fundamental one.
He did not have a Qi Refining cultivation technique.
The technique he had purchased back then was only for the Body Refining realm. It guided the tempering of the body, the circulation of blood and strength—but it had nothing to do with sensing or absorbing Qi.
Without a proper technique, even if he sat for ten years, he would not be able to take in a single strand of Qi.
Hao Tian finished eating and sat down at the table.
He took out the thin, worn manual he had used all this time and looked at it quietly.
This thing had carried him from nothing to the peak of Body Refining.
It had done its job.
He put it away with a calm expression.
No reluctance.
No sentimentality.
Cultivation was a road forward.
Not backward.
Then there was the second problem.
Techniques.
So far, everything he had relied on in battle was either raw strength, basic sword swings, or experience accumulated from life-and-death struggles.
That was fine in Body Refining.
But in Qi Refining?
Against people who could release Qi through their attacks, strengthen their bodies with it, and even use it to unleash techniques from a distance?
That kind of fighting style would quickly become insufficient.
He would need a real battle technique.
Something systematic.
Something that could truly bring out the power of Qi and combine it with his already terrifying physical foundation.
The third problem…
Resources.
From this point on, cultivation would no longer be something that could be solved with time and pain alone.
Pills.
Stones.
Formations.
Treasures.
Qi Refining was the realm where resources truly began to decide speed and success.
And resources meant—
Silver.
A lot of it.
Hao Tian leaned back slightly and looked at the ceiling.
He did not feel anxious.
He did not feel pressured.
Instead, he felt a strange sense of clarity.
For the first time, he could see the path ahead not as a foggy unknown, but as a road with clear obstacles that simply needed to be dealt with one by one.
He stood up and picked up his spiritual sword.
Even without Qi, it already felt different from his old weapon. The blade was sharper, the balance more refined, the material itself far more resilient.
But he also knew—
Right now, he was still not using even half of what it was truly capable of.
Only after stepping into Qi Refining would this sword truly become a part of his strength.
He tested a few simple swings in the courtyard.
Each one was controlled.
Precise.
The air split cleanly under the blade.
After a while, he stopped.
Sweat did not even appear on his forehead.
He sheathed the sword and made a decision.
He needed to go to the market again.
Not immediately to buy.
But to look.
To ask.
To understand.
He needed to find out what kind of Qi Refining techniques were available to someone like him.
What kind of battle techniques he could afford.
And what kind of prices he would need to prepare himself for.
He locked the door and left the house.
The streets were already lively.
Hunters, merchants, guards, and cultivators moved about in a steady flow. Compared to before, Hao Tian's presence felt different.
He was still not releasing his aura.
But his steps were steadier.
His posture more relaxed.
There was a quiet, invisible confidence about him that made people subconsciously avoid bumping into him.
He walked without hurry.
His destination was not a single shop, but the general market area where information flowed most freely.
As he passed through an intersection, his gaze suddenly paused.
Not because of danger.
Not because of killing intent.
But because he saw a familiar face.
Three men were standing near a stall, laughing loudly.
One of them, in particular, stood slightly in front of the others.
Broad shoulders.
A rough face.
A scar near his eyebrow.
Hao Tian recognized him instantly.
Zhao Kun.
The man who used to supervise part of the mine.
The man who had kicked him, insulted him, taken part of his meager earnings, and once beaten him badly enough that he had been unable to get up for an entire day.
For a moment, Hao Tian simply looked at him.
His mind was strangely calm.
No anger surged.
No hatred boiled.
It felt like looking at a character from someone else's past.
Zhao Kun was talking loudly, clearly in high spirits, boasting about something to the two men beside him.
Then, as if sensing something, he turned his head.
Their eyes met.
Zhao Kun's expression froze for a split second.
Then he frowned.
He stared at Hao Tian, as if trying to recognize him.
A few breaths later, recognition finally dawned.
His lips curled into a mocking smile.
"Well, if it isn't the little rat from the mine," Zhao Kun said, his voice loud and rough. "Didn't die out there in the forest, huh?"
The two men beside him also turned to look.
Their gazes were casual.
Dismissive.
They clearly did not take Hao Tian seriously.
Hao Tian looked at them quietly.
Then he smiled.
Not coldly.
Not mockingly.
Just… calmly.
"Seems you're doing well," he said.
Zhao Kun snorted. "Better than a piece of trash who used to crawl in the mud for scraps, that's for sure."
He took a step forward.
Then another.
"Tell me," Zhao Kun said, eyes narrowing, "how did a thing like you end up walking around here so cleanly dressed? Did you finally learn how to beg properly?"
Hao Tian did not answer.
He simply looked at him.
And in that gaze—
There was no fear.
No humility.
No suppression.
Only a deep, quiet stillness.
Zhao Kun's smile slowly stiffened.
For some reason, a faint, inexplicable unease crept into his heart.
But he quickly suppressed it.
He was an Eighth Stage Body Refiner.
What could this former trash possibly be?
He was just about to speak again—
When Hao Tian took one step forward.
And the world seemed to change.