When the first threads of sunlight slipped through the wooden window, Lu Tianming's eyelids fluttered open.
He drew in a slow breath, then exhaled deeply, expelling a mouthful of turbid air that seemed to carry away the fatigue of the night. Rising to his feet, he stretched instinctively—
Crack. Crack.
A series of crisp sounds echoed from his bones, making him pause. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Cultivation really is… intoxicating," he murmured, rolling his shoulders as warmth spread through his limbs.
Closing his eyes, he turned his attention inward, carefully sensing the flow of spirit power within his body. Reaching level ten in a single day had never been realistic, but measuring one's progress was a habit he never neglected.
A heartbeat passed.
Then his eyes snapped open.
Joy flashed across his face.
"I've broken through," he said softly, the words carrying a quiet satisfaction.
Only now did he realize—last night, he had been so immersed in cultivation that he hadn't even noticed the moment he crossed from level six into level seven. The breakthrough had come as naturally as breathing.
So, my innate spirit power wasn't just level six… it was closer to seven, he thought, a ripple of pride stirring in his chest.
If that was true, then his talent was greater than he had believed.
Just as that thought settled, a loud growl erupted from his stomach, shattering the serenity of the moment.
"…Right," Lu Tianming sighed, rubbing his belly with a wry expression. "No matter how high one's cultivation, an empty stomach is still an enemy."
With that, he turned toward the kitchen, setting aside lofty thoughts for the moment as he went to prepare a simple breakfast—because even on the path to greatness, one must first eat.
After finishing his meal, Lu Tianming quietly washed the bowls and utensils, the rhythmic sound of water striking porcelain grounding his restless thoughts. When everything was clean, he returned to his seat and slowly closed his eyes.
Silence filled the room.
Since I've already grasped the Basic Soul Power Cultivation Method… he thought, why not attempt the first phase of that other technique?
The moment that thought surfaced, hesitation followed.
The cultivation method bestowed upon him by that mysterious existence bore a name that alone sent a chill down one's spine—
Fiend God Cultivation Method.
Just hearing it was enough to make most people recoil, mistaking it for some heretical or demonic art. Yet Lu Tianming knew better. It was not demonic toward others.
It was demonic toward the cultivator himself.
Every step of this path demanded that the practitioner tear apart their own limits, tempering body and will through suffering so extreme it bordered on madness—only then could one awaken their true self.
The technique was divided into three stages:
Fiend Body Refining.
Fiend Qi Cultivation.
Divine Fiend Ascension.
The latter two stages were not abnormal in nature—merely unimaginably difficult. But the first stage…
That was the real hell.
Fiend Body Refining existed for a single purpose: to forge a True Fiend Body—a physique capable of standing toe-to-toe with divine beasts and gods as it continued to evolve.
To achieve it, one had to devour rare spirit medicines, ingest lethal venoms, bathe within rivers of lava, and temper the body atop frozen, deathly mountains. Pain was not an obstacle—it was a prerequisite.
And even that was not enough.
The cultivator was required to fight endlessly… to kill relentlessly… to condense the purest essence of battle and slaughter into their flesh and bones.
Once this process began, there was no turning back.
Stopping midway meant destruction—either the body collapsed, or the mind shattered. The practitioner had to endure ceaseless agony, forging themselves again and again until the True Fiend Body was born.
But the reward…
Once this physique was successfully refined, the gates to the second stage—Fiend Qi Cultivation—would open naturally. Progress afterward would be terrifyingly fast.
In truth, cultivating Fiend Qi without a True Fiend Body was impossible. Only such a body could generate Fiend Qi, allowing the cultivator to refine it continuously.
Which meant—
The first stage was not merely difficult.
It was the true test.
Only those who survived Fiend Body Refining were even qualified to walk the path of the Fiend God.
Lu Tianming slowly opened his eyes.
The room felt no different than before, yet the weight pressing upon his chest was immeasurable.
This was not a question of talent.
It was a question of whether he was willing to suffer…
and whether he could survive it.
After hesitating for a long while, Lu Tianming finally made his decision.
Not yet.
He was only six years old. No matter how profound the Fiend God Cultivation Method was, forcing such a brutal technique upon a body still in its early years would only lead to collapse. If he was reckless now, the path ahead would end before it even began.
I'll wait, he resolved quietly. A few years… and then I'll walk that road.
With the matter settled, the heaviness in his heart eased. He rose from his seat, stretched once more, and decided to step outside.
After closing the door behind him, Lu Tianming walked along the village road.
Smoke curled gently from stone stoves, drifting into the morning air. Inside the houses, wives busied themselves with cooking, preparing meals for husbands who would return at noon for a brief rest. Laughter echoed faintly from courtyards where toddlers played in the mud, clutching crude toys with clumsy hands, their joy simple and unguarded.
Watching this scene, Lu Tianming felt something stir within him.
A warmth.
It was faint, unfamiliar—yet undeniably real. These ordinary moments, which he had always regarded with indifference, suddenly felt… comforting.
Just as he was lost in this strange sensation, a clear voice snapped him back to reality.
"Xiao Lu, what are you doing outside?"
Lu Tianming turned around.
Xiao Ling stood there, staring at him with her mouth slightly open, as if she had seen something unbelievable.
At first, he found her reaction odd, but he didn't dwell on it.
"Oh, Xiao Ling," he said calmly. "I was feeling bored at home, so I decided to take a walk."
A faint smile curved his lips—so natural that he didn't even notice it himself.
"You… you can smile?" Xiao Ling blurted out, her voice filled with disbelief.
Her words made his expression stiffen.
Smile?
Only then did Lu Tianming realize it. Before today, his face had always been cold and unreadable, as if emotions were locked behind an invisible wall. He had never been able to express them freely.
Yet now…
Seeing Xiao Ling's shocked expression, he understood clearly.
That wall was gone.
For the first time, Lu Tianming felt it—not just strength growing within him, but something far more subtle and profound.
He was changing.
Before Lu Tianming could sink deeper into his thoughts, Xiao Ling suddenly grabbed his hand.
"Y-You can smile now!" she exclaimed, already pulling him along. "I have to tell Uncle Tyson—come on, hurry!"
He instinctively wanted to refuse. The words almost reached his lips.
But he stopped.
After all, in this entire village, Xiao Ling was the only child who had never given up on him—the only one who kept trying to make him smile even after learning about his strange condition. Her persistence had never been loud or forceful, just sincere.
For that, he had been grateful then.
And he was still grateful now.
So instead of pulling his hand free, Lu Tianming let himself be dragged along.
The two of them ran down the village path, morning sunlight spilling across the road as laughter and hurried footsteps echoed behind them. With Xiao Ling tugging him forward, Lu Tianming followed—toward Chief Tyson's house, and perhaps toward something new that he himself had yet to fully understand.
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