James reached up into the tree, his fingers searching the familiar spot where he'd seen the glow.
There—something cold against his palm.
Without looking closely, it was impossible to distinguish from the surrounding foliage. A fruit, small and smooth. James plucked it and, without a moment's hesitation, bit into it.
Legend said that spirit fruits required special preservation methods to prevent their medicinal properties from dissipating. As for what those methods were... eighteen generations of the Everett Family had never even seen a spirit fruit, let alone learned how to store one.
To avoid wasting its power and failing at the final hurdle, James couldn't afford to worry about whatever dangers might still lurk nearby. He devoured the fruit in large mouthfuls.
"Actually tastes pretty good."
He licked his lips, savoring the lingering sweetness. No pit, no bitterness—just a faint, pleasant fragrance. He could eat this every day if given the chance.
But of course, that was impossible.
"Strange." James frowned. "Why aren't there any other effects?"
He tried cultivating for a moment, testing his energy circulation. Nothing had changed. His cultivation speed felt exactly the same as before.
"Did I consume it wrong? Does it only work at night?"
"Or maybe it wasn't ripe yet?"
Unease crept through him, but now wasn't the time to dwell on it. He had no desire to spend another night in this place. James hurried back the way he'd come, moving as quickly as his legs could carry him.
---
On the way, a warm current began to emerge in his body.
It started in his lower abdomen and spread outward, flowing through his limbs like heated water through channels of ice. Warm. Comfortable. It felt as if something was reshaping his very meridians from the inside.
James's heart leaped with joy. His future self hadn't lied—this really was a spirit fruit.
But his relief was short-lived.
Following the warmth came pain.
Sharp, grinding pain that spread through every bone in his body. It felt as if his skeleton was being shattered and rebuilt, piece by piece. As if billions of needles were piercing deep into his marrow, scraping against the inside of his skull, drilling into the joints of his fingers and toes.
James's face contorted. His limbs curled inward as he collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, writhing in the dirt.
Fortunately, he had already left the danger zone.
The agony was too much. Consciousness fled, and darkness swallowed him whole.
---
After an unknown amount of time, James began to surface.
His eyes opened, vacant and unfocused. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was or what had happened. He only knew that seconds ago—or was it hours?—he had been certain he was dying. He could still see the face of death hovering at the edge of his vision.
But the image faded.
Apparently, his life was stubborn enough that even the underworld wouldn't take him.
"So stinky... ugh..."
As his senses returned, a stench hit him like a physical blow. It was worse than anything he'd ever smelled—worse than rotting meat, worse than the sewers of Sunvale City on a summer day. James gagged, fighting the urge to vomit.
He sniffed carefully and realized the smell was coming from himself.
His body was covered in a thin layer of black substance, viscous and foul. The stench emanated from that very coating, as if his pores had expelled every impurity his body had ever contained.
"Could this be... Marrow Cleansing and Bone Forging?"
The legendary purification process. James had read about it in the family records, but he'd never expected to experience it firsthand.
And then he noticed something even more remarkable.
There was something new inside him—a vortex of energy spinning in his core, drawing in power from the world around him. He had condensed an internal energy vortex.
He had broken through to the Mortal Realm.
The Body Tempering Realm was merely about refining the physical body. Only by pushing the body to its absolute limit could one condense the vortex, generate internal energy, and become a true cultivator. A Mortal Realm martial artist could mobilize that energy to enhance their techniques, strengthening speed and power across the board.
Not one in a hundred practitioners ever reached this step.
And James—not even ten years old—had already achieved it.
*Is this what it feels like to be a genius?*
He could sense the spiritual energy in the air now, drifting around him like invisible motes of light. He didn't even need to actively absorb it—the energy sought him out of its own accord, drawn to him like iron to a lodestone.
For a moment, the euphoria of breakthrough made him forget even the stench clinging to his skin.
When he finally snapped out of it, he rushed to find the nearest pond and threw himself in without a second thought.
---
Several days later, James stood in the sunlight, toying with a small bronze mirror.
The face reflected back at him was still youthful—still the face of a child. But something had changed. There was an inexplicable quality to his features now, a certain otherworldly air that hadn't been there before.
He tucked the mirror away and headed home.
---
"Young Master James has returned!"
Word of his arrival spread through the Everett compound like wildfire. Within minutes, Jonathan and Nathan—the two pillars of the family—had been summoned.
"That brat is finally back!" Nathan muttered as they walked. "Good that he knew when to retreat. The martial world is dangerous—better to come home than to court disaster. This is the qilin son of our family, mark my words!"
Nathan clearly assumed James had encountered some setback out there. After all, the boy had been gone for just over half a month—long enough to leave Sunvale City and realize the world was more dangerous than he'd imagined, but not long enough to accomplish anything significant.
Then they saw him.
James did not look disheveled or defeated. He stood straight-backed and bright-eyed, his expression calm and confident. When he spotted his father and uncle approaching, he offered a slight smile.
"Greetings, Father. Second Uncle. I apologize for worrying you."
Nathan's brow furrowed. Something felt off. He glanced at his elder brother.
"Big Brother... does he seem..."
Jonathan nodded slowly, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his stern features. "Yes. That's right."
They spoke in unison: "James has entered the Mortal Realm!"
Seeing the shock on their faces, James allowed himself a moment of quiet satisfaction.
After the initial surprise faded, Jonathan's expression grew serious. He dismissed the servants and clan elders, then led James and Nathan into a private chamber.
Nathan noticed the shift in mood immediately. "Brother, what's wrong? Isn't this good news?"
Jonathan fixed his gaze on James. "Your second uncle is not an outsider, so I'll speak plainly. When you left, you were at the seventh layer of Body Tempering. Now, barely half a month later, you've broken through to the Mortal Realm."
His voice dropped. "If something happened—if someone influenced you—you can tell us."
The concern in his father's eyes was unmistakable. James understood immediately. His breakthrough had been too fast, too dramatic. Jonathan knew his son's talent better than anyone. Jumping several layers and crossing into a new realm in just two weeks? Impossible under normal circumstances.
Unless something unnatural had occurred.
Nathan's joy had faded as well. James was the family's hope for the future. If he had been corrupted by some evil influence...
James had anticipated this.
"Father, Second Uncle—you're overthinking." He met their eyes steadily. "I would never associate with anyone like that."
The two brothers exchanged a glance. Their worry didn't diminish. After all, no one who had been manipulated ever believed they had been.
Fortunately, James's next words dispelled their fears.
He recounted his experiences—with some modifications. He omitted the fact that he had deliberately sought out Tiger Warren, claiming instead that he had gotten lost and encountered the hunter by chance. He explained how Tiger had led him to a strange location intending to kill him for his silver, how James had been prepared and killed the man first, and how—as night fell—he had stumbled upon a spirit fruit and consumed it.
Jonathan and Nathan listened with widening eyes. Who would have thought a nine-year-old could have such an adventure? It sounded like something out of a storyteller's tale.
When James finished, Jonathan was silent for a long moment.
Then, slowly, he spoke.
"If all of this is true... then our Everett Family is destined to flourish."
---
**End of Chapter 5**