The cavern had long since lost all traces of warmth.
The deeper Xuanyuan Zhen walked, the more the world seemed to turn into frozen silence. Frost crept along the stone walls like white veins, and the air grew sharp enough to cut exposed flesh. Even the faint sound of dripping water had long disappeared, replaced by a suffocating stillness.
Yet Xuanyuan Zhen remained unaffected.
His Battle Saint Body pulsed with sacred vitality, while the Heavenly Tyrant Body radiated a natural, overbearing heat. His blood—purple streaked with gold—flowed like molten sunlight through his veins. Cold could not invade him. Poison could not corrode him.
Ahead, a soft glow emerged.
He slowed his steps.
Within a natural hollow lay a shallow basin carved by time. It was not filled with water—but with thick, luminous liquid. The surface shimmered like liquid jade, releasing waves of refined spiritual essence that caused his dantian to stir instinctively.
Spiritual milk.
Even a single cup could rival high-quality pills. This entire pool… was a treasure beyond price.
Temptation flickered in his eyes—but he did not approach immediately.
Instead, he observed.
Three frozen corpses lay scattered nearby, their faces twisted in horror. Their limbs were stiff, preserved in crystalline frost. There were no visible wounds. No signs of prolonged battle.
"They saw it," Xuanyuan Zhen murmured quietly.
And something had killed them before they could claim it.
The cavern remained silent.
Then—
A violent ripple disturbed the surface of the spiritual milk.
A streak of icy light shot upward.
A serpentine figure burst from the pool, scales gleaming with frost-blue brilliance. Its body coiled in midair, eyes narrow and vicious. Cold mist poured from its fangs as it hissed.
A Frost Soul Viper.
Mid-stage Rank 2.
Its strength was comparable to the middle stages of the Foundation Establishment Realm. Years of feeding on spiritual milk had refined its physique into something far more formidable than ordinary beasts of its rank.
The serpent lunged without hesitation.
A cloud of pale venom exploded from its mouth, spreading like freezing fog. Wherever the mist touched, frost formed instantly.
Xuanyuan Zhen stood unmoving.
The poison reached him.
It touched his skin—
—and dissolved.
His blood roared within him. The yang essence of his dual physiques ignited instinctively, purifying the venom before it could even attempt to invade his meridians.
The viper's pupils contracted.
Xuanyuan Zhen's storage ring flashed.
A black halberd appeared in his hand.
He stepped forward once.
The stone beneath him cracked as he launched himself like a bolt of lightning. The halberd cut through the mist, splitting it apart. The viper recoiled, attempting to coil defensively—
Too late.
The blade pierced cleanly through its skull.
A heavy thud echoed as the serpent's body collapsed, lifeless.
Silence returned to the cavern.
Xuanyuan Zhen withdrew his weapon calmly. The difference between them had been absolute.
He walked toward the corpses and searched them methodically. Storage rings. Weapons. Jade containers. He collected what was useful without emotion. Among their belongings were several vessels designed to store spiritual liquids.
Convenient.
He filled every container with spiritual milk.
Still, the pool remained half-full.
After a brief pause, he stepped into it.
The moment the liquid touched his skin, a surge of refined energy flooded his body. His meridians trembled under the sudden influx. Heavenly purple qi rose like a tide, intertwining with golden holy qi in powerful circulation.
He sat cross-legged within the basin.
Ninth stage of Qi Condensation.
The energy roared through him, compressing violently.
The barrier trembled.
Cracked.
Tenth stage.
His aura expanded, but he suppressed it forcefully, refining every strand of qi into something purer and denser. His foundation was not something he would rush.
The spiritual milk continued to pour into him.
The final shackles shattered.
A deeper transformation occurred within his dantian—qi condensing into something heavier, more solid, more real.
Foundation Establishment Realm.
First stage.
A powerful aura burst outward before he contained it once more. Purple-gold blood qi shimmered faintly around him, wrapping his body.
When he stepped out of the now-dry basin, he looked transformed.
Not just stronger.
Unshakeable.
Cultivators always spoke of fortune hidden within danger.
Today, he understood why.
---
Xuanyuan Clan – Inner Courtyard
Yin Mei walked steadily along the stone path, her posture calm.
At the fifth stage of Body Tempering, she was no longer frail. Her once-sickly complexion had long since faded into healthy radiance. Her features had grown striking, her presence quietly captivating.
With Xuanyuan Zhen absent for weeks, whispers had spread throughout the clan.
Many believed he had died in the Red Mist Forest.
Among them—Xuanyuan Han.
He stepped forward now, blocking Yin Mei's path.
A faint smirk curved his lips.
"So he really didn't make it back," Han said lightly. "The Red Mist Forest isn't a place a cripple could survive."
Yin Mei's expression hardened.
She tried to move around him.
He shifted, blocking her again.
"You relied on him long enough," he continued. "Now that he's gone, you should find someone stronger."
His cultivation at the Qi Condensation Realm far surpassed hers. Spiritual pressure pressed down upon her, restricting her movement as he reached out to grab her wrist.
She struggled—but the gap in strength was undeniable.
Just as his fingers were about to close around her—
Boom.
A terrifying force struck him from the side.
Xuanyuan Han's body was hurled across the courtyard, smashing into a stone pillar with a violent crack.
Xuanyuan Chen, who had been standing guard nearby, froze in shock.
He hadn't sensed anyone approaching.
A heavy aura descended upon the courtyard.
Footsteps echoed slowly.
Xuanyuan Zhen walked forward, robes fluttering lightly despite the still air. His gaze was calm—but beneath it lay something cold and vast.
The pressure radiating from him was unmistakable.
Foundation Establishment Realm.
Xuanyuan Han stared in disbelief, blood trickling from his lips.
Impossible.
He had been certain.
Everyone had said Xuanyuan Zhen entered the Red Mist Forest alone. No one survived its inner regions at his level.
He should have died.
Xuanyuan Zhen stopped before him.
His eyes held no rage.
Only certainty.
"I see," he said calmly. "You thought I died in the Red Mist Forest."
The simple statement carried suffocating weight.
Han's face drained of color.
Xuanyuan Zhen's gaze shifted briefly to Yin Mei, ensuring she was unharmed, before returning to Han.
"You mistake absence for weakness."
His aura flared subtly, pressing down like a mountain.
"I haven't even settled certain matters with you yet."
The courtyard fell silent.
And in that silence, they finally understood one thing. Xuanyuan Zhen had not fallen in the Red Mist Forest.
He had returned stronger.