Chapter 12: Body and Qi
Mo Yuan woke up later than he thought, the sun already setting and casting purple and orange light across the mountain peaks.
He hadn't meant to sleep, but his body had given in. After pushing himself to his limits, his energy had completely drained, forcing him into a deep rest.
When he tried to stand up, a heavy pressure pressed him back onto the mat. His right arm felt lifeless, numb and cold from shoulder to fingertips where the Absolute Void Strike had passed. He tried to clench his hand, but the muscles only trembled, refusing to obey.
Inside his body, his meridians ached as if they had been scraped raw. His Qi moved slowly and unevenly, gathering in painful knots where the recoil of the technique had damaged his internal pathways.
[ Status Report:]
[Right arm nerves: Nearly one-third unresponsive.]
[ Meridian: Grade-Three strain detected.]
[Physical body: Excessive damage in the upper right side.]
The Mirror's report appeared in his mind, cold and emotionless, glowing faintly with golden light. Mo Yuan tried to move, summoning a small burst of speed to shift his body. The instant his Qi stirred, sharp pain stabbed through his chest, stealing his breath.
The strain was too great. His body was like iron forced to endure raging flame pushed far beyond what it was meant to bear.
"A fragile body cannot withstand powerful techniques," Mo Yuan said quietly, his rough voice echoing in the still cave.
He finally understood that his 100% Qi density was a double-edged sword. It made his attacks unstoppable, but it also meant that any mistake would hit him just as hard.
The Absolute Void Strike wasn't just a technique, it was a force his body couldn't fully contain. He was like a glass cannon, one powerful strike away from breaking himself completely.
As Mo Yuan remained trapped in stillness, the effects of his training spread through the Azure Mist Sect like ink spreading in water.
Near the base of the North Cliff, a patrol disciple stopped in his tracks, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword. His name was Liu, a Fourth Stage Qi Refinement cultivator with a minor talent for sensing spatial fluctuations, a spatial sense that usually helped him track hidden beasts. He glanced toward the jagged peaks, frowning with real worry.
"Did you feel that?" Liu whispered to his companion.
"Feel what? Just the wind and the smell of pine," the other disciple replied, grunting and shifting his sword belt with a sharp, impatient huff.
"I felt a tremor," Liu said, narrowing his eyes toward North Cliff, the sect's abandoned edge. "Not in the ground, but in the air itself as if the space around it… shifted. Like something snapped.
I've sensed it twice now. If it happens again, I'll have to report it to the Hall of Records. Spatial instability this close to the sect's core formations is dangerous. We can't risk the mountain's key lines being disrupted because some one is meddling with forbidden scrolls."
Further down the mountain, in the lavish, incense-filled halls of the Inner Circle, the atmosphere was tense and sharp.
Wang Wei sat with a thick, blood-stained bandage wrapped around his hand, eyes burning with a mix of fear and humiliation. His pride had been shattered, leaving him on the edge of losing control.
"He still haven't left that cliff in three days?" Wang Wei hissed at a trembling subordinate standing by the door, head lowered.
"No, Senior Brother. But several people have seen strange flashes of black light near the summit. The rumors are already spreading some say he's practicing a demonic art that consumes his own life force. Why else would a simple to-be laundry boy suddenly defeat a genius like you?"
Wang Wei slammed his bandaged hand onto the table, cracking the polished wood.
"I don't care if it's demonic or divine technique," he roared. "He's an abnormality. If we can't touch him while he hides on that cliff, then we wait for him to come down. No one survives in this sect without contribution points. Sooner or later, he'll have to take a mission whether for spirit stones or better resources."
His eyes turned cold.
"When that happens, make sure when he takes a mission he won't return from. Send him into the wilderness, far from the Elders' eyes."
The subordinate swallowed and nodded quickly. "Yes, Senior Brother. I understand."
Wang Wei leaned back, his injured hand throbbing with pain. He stared at the drifting incense, his expression dark.
"Let him stay on that cliff," he said coldly. "Let him think he's safe. The sect has rules, but the wilderness does not. Once he leaves the mountain, even a genius can die quietly, and no one will question it."
As the undercurrents of the sect stirred far above, Mo Yuan remained completely unaware.
Yet, in a strange alignment of fate, his thoughts mirrored Wang Wei's in their own way.
Back in the cave, Mo Yuan's gaze fell on his identification jade, its surface icy against his palm. He studied the small number glowing faintly on its face 10 contribution points. The number was pitiful, almost laughable, and yet it struck him with a cold clarity.
'No one survives on nothing', he thought grimly. 'If I want to walk freely in this sect… I have to earn my place. Slowly, carefully… or risk being crushed'.
He knew that to overcome his weak body, he needed a high-grade Body Tempering manual.
Such techniques were the true gatekeepers of power, teaching a cultivator to endure the crushing force of their own Qi without being torn apart.
But these manuals were far from free. They demanded hundreds or even thousands of contribution points, earned only through grueling service, relentless effort, and the sacrifices a disciple made to the sect.
'I have the power to kill, and the movement to engage', Mo Yuan reasoned, slowly massaging his forearm as faint sensation returned to his numb fingers. '
But I cannot endure a long fights. If a fight lasts more than three exchanges, or if I use the Void Strike twice, my own body will collapse before my enemy does. With my current contribution points, I'm a joke, I can't even afford the lowest-level body tempering manuals.
He rose to his feet slowly, legs trembling as he tested his weight. The soreness in his muscles was fading, but the heavy, lingering exhaustion remained, a spiritual fatigue that would not lift until his body reached a higher state.
He couldn't stay on the cliff forever. To improve, to make his body strong enough to handle his Absolute Qi, he had to take on the sect's missions, the harsh trials every disciple faced.
"I need points," he said, his eyes hard and focused, hiding his exhaustion. "And the only way to earn them is through the Mission Hall."
He knew the risks involved, he knew Wang Wei and others would be watching. Still, there was no turning back, hesitation meant weakness, and weakness was a luxury he could no longer afford.