Four days had passed since Gao Han vanished from the camp of the five great clans. The Zheng faction was consumed with worry, especially Situ Yan, who could neither eat nor sleep in her distress. As for Zheng Kong, he had remained confident for the first two days, but by the third, anxiety had gnawed at him. Defying Zheng Ling's attempts to stop him, he had ventured out to search for a full day.
Situ Yan had wished to join him, but her brother had forbidden it, confining her to her tent and refusing to let her leave.
"Sister, you have not eaten in two days. Please, take some food," Situ Jian's voice drifted from outside her tent.
"Brother, has Gao Han returned?" her voice came, weak and listless.
Situ Jian shook his head in helpless resignation. "He has not. Let go of this foolishness, sister. You have not eaten in three days." There was a flicker of anger in his tone.
"Enough, brother. I am unwell. Leave me be."
With that, she fell silent, ignoring every word he spoke thereafter.
While the Zheng faction lingered in gloom, the imperial faction rejoiced. In Lu Zhengchun's camp:
"Ha! Good riddance! He overestimated himself, thinking he stood a chance against a True Essence cultivator. In the end, he was nothing but trash at the Qi Condensation realm," Gu Yunluan boasted arrogantly, as if he had never been wounded by Gao Han at all.
Lu Zhengchun was equally elated. A potential threat to the royal family had been eliminated. "Guards! Bring me wine! We shall celebrate tonight!"
Hu Kai's expression darkened. "A pity we could not see him die with our own eyes."
"Never mind that," Lu Zhengchun said, downing a cup of wine in one gulp. "Once I win Situ Yan's heart, we may advance our plans ahead of schedule."
Hu Kai and Gu Yunluan's faces soured. Situ Yan was the most beautiful woman in the imperial capital, the object of desire for every young nobleman. A flash of murderous intent crossed their gazes as they looked at Lu Zhengchun.
It would be better to support the First Prince instead, they thought. At least he held no particular desire for Situ Yan.
Lu Zhengchun remained completely oblivious that his words had cost him the support of two major clan heirs. His mind was filled with lewd thoughts of Situ Yan's graceful figure. Had he known, he would never have spoken so carelessly. Losing their backing meant he would never ascend the throne—unless the imperial clan possessed the power to stand against all the noble families alone.
Lingze and his two fellow monks had returned to the spot where they had parted with Gao Han shortly after escorting Situ Yan back, searching along the path. But the hidden graveyard was far too concealed to find. They too had not returned until now.
As the day drew to a close, the three monks arrived back at the camp first, shaking their heads in defeat. Soon after, Zheng Kong stumbled in, ignoring all questions, his usual chatter replaced by sullen silence.
Lingze spoke gravely to the representatives of the clans. "I urge you to send word to your families and request reinforcements from expert elders. Brother Gao's strength was more than a match for that zombie. If he has not returned, a far more powerful undead must be involved—one we cannot hope to defeat alone."
The clan members paled and immediately sent messengers racing back to their families.
The Zhengs bound Zheng Kong; Situ Jian restrained his sister. All began the journey home.
Meanwhile, Gao Han, the center of all their worries, continued his cultivation deep within the ancient graveyard. His physical body now stood upon the threshold of a major breakthrough.
Two days prior, his body had begun absorbing frost energy at an astonishing speed, a rate that had persisted without pause until the present moment.
Today, a sense of fullness and gentle swelling spread through his flesh. Gao Han understood at once: his physique was about to advance.
Physical strength was ranked in stages. The lowest was the First Stage Martial Body. At this level, one could ignore attacks from ordinary Qi Condensation seventh-layer warriors, while one's physical strength matched that of a ninth-layer cultivator.
The Tianwu Continent hosted many body-refining practitioners. Legend told of supreme experts whose bare fists could shatter the earth and whose punch-winds tore through the clouds. The method of refining determined the result.
Cultivating using inner qi or ambient spiritual energy was the weakest but safest, favored by most for its near-perfect success rate. Refining with medicinal pills was reserved for core disciples of major sects and clans, for it demanded staggering wealth.
Elemental body-refining was the most perilous, and thus rarely chosen—but it forged the mightiest bodies. A First Stage Martial Body forged by elements could withstand full-powered strikes from peak Qi Condensation seventh-layer experts and deliver blows equal to peak Qi Condensation warriors.
Gao Han was about to achieve exactly this first stage. Thanks to the high-grade frost energy he absorbed, he had advanced in merely four days. Under normal circumstances, an untrained mortal would need a decade of single-minded body-refining to reach the same level.
As he continued to temper his flesh with frost, Gao Han felt his body hardening like glacial ice. Had he opened his eyes, he would have seen a thick layer of cold energy swirling one centimeter above his skin, drawing in more chill from the air, which his body greedily devoured.
He set aside all thoughts of stabilizing his cultivation and studying martial arts, devoting every ounce of focus to breaking through his physical limits. He controlled his pores and the flow of frost energy, letting it scour and strengthen his flesh.
His skin began to pale—not from intolerance, but as a natural sign of ice-forged refinement. Gradually, he sensed the cold within him had reached a critical point; no further absorption was possible without a breakthrough.
Gao Han urged the frost energy to circulate violently. Impurities oozed from his pores alongside streams of condensed cold, wrapping him in a layer of black grime.
Agonizing soreness shot through his body, but he ground his teeth and endured. His eyes flew wide, bloodshot, low growls rumbling in his throat.
After a quarter of an hour, a wave of profound relief washed over him. The outside frost energy flooded into him like rain parched earth, absorbed ravenously by his body.
The First Stage Martial Body was complete.
Gao Han stared at his fair, smooth skin and chuckled wryly. It looked almost like a woman's. Yet he had no doubt that a full strike from a Qi Condensation fourth-layer warrior would not leave so much as a scratch upon it.
Surging with raw physical power, he felt invincible. He pushed off the ground with his legs, leaving shallow footprints in the rock-frozen earth. He hurled himself toward a nearby tree.
Crash!
The massive trunk, one zhang in diameter, snapped clean in two. This was purely physical strength, already terrifyingly powerful. Gao Han hurtled five zhang through the air before landing lightly.
He brushed wood chips from his robes and felt no pain whatsoever. He nodded in satisfaction. Truly worthy of the First Stage Martial Body—not a single injury from such a violent impact.
When he looked down, however, he saw no skin at all, only a thick crust of black impurities. The filth disgusted him.
Far from the graveyard stood a well. The cold had only spread to this area for three or four days, so the water had not frozen, though it was bitterly cold.
Gao Han carved a wooden bucket from the broken tree trunk, bound it with vines, and drew water to wash himself thoroughly. He then hunted wild game in the mountains. Having just forged his Martial Body, his appetite was immense; he ate nearly thirty jin of cooked meat before feeling satisfied.
In high spirits, Gao Han slept soundly for the first time in days. No zombies had appeared in the past four nights, so he rested easy.
When dawn broke the next morning, he climbed down from the tree where he had slept and stretched. "Truly, sleep is the finest way to restore one's strength."
Meditation replenished spirit and stamina, but it could not match the comfort of natural rest. Still, given the choice, he would always choose cultivation over sleep.
Gao Han collected his thoughts and gazed at the distant horizon. "The time has come for my breakthrough."
He could sense that, after days of consolidation, he was ready to advance to the True Essence realm.
He returned to the graveyard, sat cross-legged beside the cave entrance, and drew frost energy from the air, converting it into inner qi.
He cultivated the Sunset Over the Long River Art, which required colossal energy to break through. He absorbed cold through the night until his inner qi reached full saturation.
The next step was critical. The gap between True Essence experts and Qi Condensation warriors lay in the nature of their power. Qi Condensation cultivators wielded inner qi, no matter how strong; True Essence masters wielded genuine essence, vastly purer and more potent.
Gao Han's elemental inner qi had allowed him to punch above his weight, but the transformation was still necessary. Inner qi had to be compressed and refined into genuine essence within the dantian.
Qi Condensation practitioners processed qi in their meridians, using the dantian only for storage. True Essence cultivators forged genuine essence within the dantian before circulating it through their meridians.
Gao Han's inner qi was at full capacity. He guided it surging toward his dantian, compressing it into pure, dense genuine essence. As he fed more qi into his core, his dantian expanded, then strengthened and repaired itself under the pressure of the condensed essence.
His dantian grew twice in size. Beyond the True Essence realm, the dantian was the very foundation of cultivation—damage to it meant the loss of all power.
Qi flowed into his dantian from one meridian; genuine essence flowed out from the other. When the last of his inner qi transformed, he would officially become a True Essence cultivator.
On the road back with the noble clans:
"Release me! Brother, let go! I must find Brother Han!" Zheng Kong's roar carried for a full li.
Zheng Ling approached and sighed. "Little brother, accept it. Gao Han is dead. A dead genius is of no use to the Zheng clan."
Zheng Kong snapped into a frenzy, his shout shaking the skies. "He is not dead! Brother Han will never die!"
Zheng Ling waved weakly at two attendants. "Watch over the Second Young Master." He then rode toward Situ Jian.
"Cousin, how is Yan'er?" he asked wearily.
Situ Jian had been staring blankly ahead. He started in fright before relaxing upon seeing his cousin. "What did you say?"
Zheng Ling repeated his question.
"She eats a little now, but she is still listless. And your brother?"
"You were so lost in thought you did not hear him shouting? It is like thunder."
Situ Jian glanced back at the carriage and sighed. He felt as if he had sighed more in these two days than in his entire life. The roads were rough, so they had bought a carriage in a village for Situ Yan to rest in, guarded by several Qi Condensation warriors.
Lu Zhengchun and his companions were growing frustrated. They could not even exchange a word with Situ Yan, no matter how impatient they became.
Situ Jian spoke seriously to Zheng Ling. "When we return, we must send for two clan experts to investigate this area. I will ask my grandfather to dispatch men to search for Gao Han." He smiled bitterly. "It seems Yan'er has truly fallen for him. If he is alive, he would make a worthy match—a once-in-a-generation genius."
Zheng Ling smiled faintly. "Indeed. I still recall his battle with Lu Zhengchun, how he wielded Buddhist martial arts after only seeing them twice. Do you know Chen Liang, the Left-Handed Swordsman?"
"Chen Liang? He has gained quite a reputation these past two years. Ruthless, with a cruel sword style. He cuts the tendons of all who lose to him. But I heard he was defeated by Lian Yong of the Fire Cloud Manor."
"Correct. And do you know who defeated Lian Yong? Gao Han. He used Chen Liang's own techniques to do it."
"So he is a prodigy of martial comprehension as well?"
Back in the graveyard, only a wisp of inner qi remained within Gao Han, all else transformed into genuine essence. Calming his excitement, he guided the last thread toward his dantian.
Boom!
A resonant tremor erupted within him. Genuine essence cycled violently through the Sunset Over the Long River Art, drawing in frost energy from outside in a wild torrent. The cold rushed through his meridians into his dantian, forging more essence with every passing moment.
The True Essence realm—achieved.
Gao Han had successfully broken through. His cultivation art rose to the tenth layer, unlocking a profound movement technique: Thousand Searches. This skill allowed him to detect the slightest flaw in an opponent's stance and evade attacks by exploiting that opening—a supremely practical maneuver.
The True Essence realm was a pivotal threshold. Only upon reaching it could one be called a true martial artist; Qi Condensation was merely beginner's ground.
Gao Han stood and marveled at the genuine essence flowing within him. The gap between realms was staggering. He realized now that he had never faced a true second-layer True Essence expert before; had he done so, he would have been torn apart.
If a True Essence warrior was a youth of thirteen or fourteen, a Qi Condensation cultivator was but a small child. To challenge above one's realm was to be a child with unnatural strength.
Gao Han extended a finger and flicked it forward. A six-foot stream of icy essence shot toward a tree thirty meters away, piercing a clean hole through its trunk.
He nodded in satisfaction. This strike used only fifty percent of his power. A newly promoted first-layer True Essence cultivator could typically extend their essence twenty meters before it dissipated; peak first-layer experts reached fifty meters, unless augmented by martial arts.
Gao Han, fresh off his breakthrough, could strike thirty meters with casual ease—a testament to his monstrous foundation.
The True Essence realm was divided into early (1–3), middle (4–6), and peak (7–9). A third-layer expert could unleash thirty streams of essence in an instant, far beyond Gao Han's current capacity. Before his breakthrough, he could fire six sword qi streams per second with Frigid River-Sundering Soul-Breaking Sword—his absolute limit. Now he could unleash a dozen, placing him at the level of a second-layer True Essence cultivator.
Gao Han's eyes narrowed. "Zheng Yunfeng! His power was at peak second-layer True Essence that day. I wonder if he has broken through in half a year. If he has, I may still not be his match."
He suppressed his urge to seek out Zheng Yunfeng immediately, resolving to cultivate for several months and strive for further advancement. With that, he turned back into the mountains to hunt for food.