The martial structure in this world was rather straightforward, yet its simplicity concealed a rigid hierarchy that governed the fate of all cultivators.
Foundation Realm stood at the base, followed by True Martial, then Grand Martial, Saint Martial, and finally Sovereign Martial, each realm representing a fundamental transformation of the body and one's relationship with qi.
Every realm was divided into nine stages, grouped into three clear tiers. Stages one to three were termed Eminent, four to six were Esteemed, and seven to nine were Exalted. A rank-four True Martial practitioner was known as an Esteemed True Martial Master, while one who reached the ninth stage bore the title Exalted True Martial Master, a distinction that commanded respect across entire regions.
As Si stepped into the mass burial grounds of the Bi clan, a biting chill immediately wrapped around him, as though he had walked straight into the heart of a raging blizzard. The air itself seemed alive with malice, gnawing at his lungs with every breath he took, sending sharp waves of pain through his chest. Yet his expression remained calm, his composure unshaken as he endured the oppressive cold without hesitation.
He walked to the center of the burial site and stopped, planting his feet firmly against the uneven ground. Slowly, he adjusted his posture and closed his eyes, allowing his senses to sink inward. His current cultivation lingered at the first stage of the Foundation Realm, the weakest point of any martial path. In his previous life, he and Bao had dreamed of joining the Bi family military and rising through the ranks, yet they had never managed to break past the peak of the first stage. Their meridians had been irreparably damaged by prolonged exposure to extreme yin qi, crippling their growth before it could even begin.
Now, however, everything had changed.
That same extreme yin qi that once crippled him had become the very resource he needed to grow stronger.
This time, Si did not resist the cold. He welcomed it.
He drew the freezing energy into his body just as one would draw in ordinary qi, allowing it to flow freely through his limbs. The chill spread rapidly, starting from his fingertips and seeping into every corner of his body. His skin gradually turned pale, then deathly white, while his muscles stiffened under the pressure, his entire form becoming rigid like a statue carved from ice.
Despite the intensity, Si remained composed. His control was absolute.
He guided the invading yin qi into his muscles, weaving it carefully into his tendons, reinforcing them strand by strand.
Within the Foundation Realm, the first three tiers formed the fundamental base of all cultivation. Still stance stabilized the body, imbued tendons enhanced movement and elasticity, and imbued bones strengthened the internal structure. Only after surpassing these stages could one be considered a true martial artist. At the fourth tier, the body would become capable of generating qi naturally, allowing cultivation to accelerate and stabilize.
In his past life, Si had feared such environments. Instead of cultivating in a place saturated with extreme yin qi like this burial ground, he had resorted to sneaking into the Bi family infirmary, lingering around dying patients where faint traces of death qi seeped out weakly. His progress had been painfully slow, taking an entire month just to break into the second tier despite already having prior experience.
This time, there was no hesitation.
Si stood motionless as the wind howled around him, the cold intensifying with every passing moment. Thin layers of frost began forming on the ground, spreading outward in a five-zhang radius centered on his body. Ice crept across his clothes and skin, gradually encasing him until he appeared no different from a frozen statue standing amidst the burial grounds.
Time passed in silence.
Around the early hours before dawn, his body suddenly trembled. It was subtle at first, then violent, as though an unseen force had slammed into him from within. Something broke.
A barrier shattered.
Invisible restraints snapped apart, and a surge of lightness flooded his entire being.
Krash!
The layer of ice encasing him exploded outward, shattering into countless fragments that scattered across the ground. Si's eyes opened slowly, darkness swallowing his pupils for a brief moment before receding, revealing his normal emerald irises once more.
"I succeeded in one night. As expected, this is an excellent cultivation spot."
He could feel the difference immediately.
His tendons pulsed with newfound strength, storing and releasing energy like coiled springs. Every slight movement carried an explosive potential. The reinforcement of qi had drastically improved his kinetic efficiency, reducing energy loss and sharpening the precision of his actions.
His footwork felt lighter, his reactions faster, and the connection between his muscles and movements became seamless. The risk of strain or tearing had been eliminated, allowing him to exert force without hesitation.
Even his balance and spatial awareness had improved, granting him sharper control over his body.
"Imbuing my bones with extreme yin qi is what I need to break into the third tier. Considering the abundance of yin qi here, I can do it in three months… five at most."
Though three months seemed lengthy, advancing from the second to the third tier of the Foundation Realm within such a timeframe was considered extraordinary.
Only the nobility could achieve such progress, and even then, it required the support of expensive body-tempering pills and rare resources. This was why Si valued the Supreme Art of Death so highly. It required no external resources, only environments steeped in death and calamity, places overflowing with extreme yin qi. The stronger the beings that had died there, the greater the benefits.
"If I can sneak into the Bi clan ancestral burial site, I'm certain I can reach the third tier in three weeks."
The thought lingered as a distant possibility.
The ancestral grounds were heavily guarded, access strictly controlled, and entry without permission was impossible. Only after he rose to the position of Bi clan patriarch would such a place become accessible to him. To Si, however, such burial sites were nothing less than sacred cultivation grounds. Waiting a decade for that opportunity was far from ideal.
"Once I reach the fifth tier, I might as well begin cultivating a speed-type martial technique. If I can bypass the guards, the benefits will be boundless."
His eyes sharpened, his fists tightening as determination settled firmly within him.
In this world, two elements determined a cultivator's destiny: martial legacy and martial techniques. Both were classified into grades, ranging from Mortal to Warrior, Champion, Hero, Saint, and ultimately Supreme.
Martial legacy formed the foundation of one's path, dictating the type of power a cultivator could wield and the limits of their growth. Si's Supreme Art of Death was one of the ten supreme-grade legacies that would later shake the Central Plains.
Martial techniques, on the other hand, were combat skills layered upon that foundation. Throughout a cultivator's life, mastering various techniques shaped their fighting style and effectiveness in battle.
Access to high-grade legacies and techniques determined one's future. Noble families held overwhelming advantages, hoarding powerful legacies within their clans while offering only inferior versions to the public through academies. This ensured a continuous cycle of strength, allowing them to maintain their dominance over generations.
From the fifth tier onward, cultivators were expected to learn a new martial technique with each stage they advanced. By the ninth tier, they would have chosen their martial legacy, a decision that would define their entire path. At that stage, being accepted by a powerful faction or master became crucial, as the quality of one's legacy determined everything that followed.
Si's knowledge of martial legacies and techniques, accumulated over three centuries of conquest and slaughter, surpassed the combined understanding of the entire Gan Dynasty.
"This time… this time, I will get it right."