Morning mist draped the training plateau in silver veils, curling around stone phoenixes and frozen lotus carvings etched into the cliffside. Rows of Moon Lotus Sect disciples stood in tense silence, waiting. The air trembled faintly with the heartbeat of their newly awakened dao avatars, each eager to be summoned into light.
Above them, four figures hovered in midair, their presence vast as mountains. The Four Saint Dragons—Yangshen, Yuying, Jinhai, and Meiyun—watched with folded arms and knowing gazes. Though their bodies carried human form, the weight of their dragon bloodline radiated like ancient thunder. Their eyes lingered not on the disciples, but on Haotian.
At the head of the assembly, Haotian leaned lightly on his Dao Spear, golden eyes warm, his smile as relaxed as if this were a gathering among friends.
"Alright," he called out, tone easy and teasing. "You've all awakened avatars, haven't you? Don't keep them to yourselves. Let me see them. No one's going to laugh… well, except maybe me."
The nervous silence cracked with laughter. Shoulders loosened. With a collective exhale, the disciples extended their wills.
The plateau erupted in light. Frost lotuses bloomed in midair, phantom phoenixes spread their wings, glowing swords hovered in arcs of brilliance. Some shone steady, proud and strong. Others flickered, unstable, wavering like candles caught in a storm.
One disciple's flame avatar sputtered so weakly he tried to shrink behind the row. But before shame could burn him down, Haotian was suddenly beside him, hand resting lightly on his shoulder.
"Why hide it?" Haotian said with an easy grin. "Even a candle pushes back the dark. A small flame today can grow into a bonfire tomorrow, if you keep it alive."
The boy's eyes widened. His flame steadied, trembling into a brighter glow.
Overhead, Yuying's voice rang clear, carrying like wind. "Do you see, little ones? He doesn't command you with fear. He reminds you of your worth. That is true cultivation."
Another disciple's lotus avatar gleamed too perfectly, fragile like glass. Haotian tapped it with the butt of his spear, causing it to splinter with cracks. The girl flinched, ashamed.
"You're trying too hard to make it pretty," Haotian told her softly, smile playful but kind. "A lotus grows from mud. Don't be afraid of scars. Strength isn't always beautiful at first."
Her breath steadied. The lotus reshaped itself, its cracks glowing with new resilience.
High above, Meiyun let a small smile curve her lips. With a flick of her sleeve, a wave of ancient draconic pressure swept across the plateau. The disciples staggered, their avatars flickering under the sudden strain. Gasps rang out.
Haotian clapped his hands, voice bright with encouragement. "Hold steady! Don't fight it — let your avatar breathe with you. Shoulders loose, feet rooted. You're stronger than this!"
One by one, the disciples rallied, forcing their avatars to shine against the crushing weight.
"Not bad," Jinhai rumbled approvingly. His gaze, however, lingered on Haotian. "He steadies them as if he were born to lead them."
Haotian moved among the disciples again, correcting, laughing, guiding. "Loosen your grip! You're not carrying a coffin." "Good! But breathe — unless you plan on fainting before your avatar does!" His warmth drew chuckles even as his words sharpened their avatars into steadiness.
By the time he returned to the front, the plateau was alive with stable manifestations. The mist above glowed with the light of dozens of dao forms, pulsing like stars.
Haotian planted his spear into the stone with a soft thunk. His smile widened, golden eyes glowing with quiet pride.
"Not bad at all. Today, you've seen what you are. Tomorrow, you'll spar with each other — not to break, but to grow. Remember: your avatar isn't an ornament. It's part of you. It bleeds when you bleed. It fights when you fight."
The disciples, hearts pounding with renewed confidence, could no longer hold back their emotions. As one, they dropped to their knees, fists pressed to the ground, and roared with voices that shook the plateau:
"YES, SENIOR BROTHER HAOTIAN!"
The shout echoed off the mountains, a chorus born of devotion.
Haotian blinked, then chuckled sheepishly, scratching his cheek. "Heh… I didn't ask for that, you know."
From above, Yangshen laughed, the sound rolling like thunder. "You didn't have to. A dragon need not declare himself king—lesser creatures will bow to him on their own."
Haotian only smiled wider at that, shaking his head. "Senior Brother's enough for me."
The disciples looked up, eyes shining. And in that moment, they believed him not just their Senior Brother, but the very star that would guide their path forward.
The disciples had only just begun stabilizing their dao avatars when Haotian called the sect together again. The echoes of "Senior Brother Haotian!" still hung fresh in their voices, but he raised a hand, his smile easy.
"Don't get too comfortable," he said lightly, earning a wave of laughter. "Cultivating only your dao avatars will leave you lopsided. A sword sharp on one edge but dull on the other is still a broken blade. If you want to stand tall, you'll need balance — body, dao, avatar, and insight all tempered together."
He lifted his spear, pointing to the rising sun. "From today forward, our training will follow a rhythm of seven days. Each day strikes a different chord, and when woven together, you'll hear the melody of strength."
The disciples leaned in, hearts thundering.
"Day one — bathhouse cultivation and body tempering."
"Day two — practice of the Moon Lotus Codex."
"Day three — avatar resonance training."
"Day 4 – Undying Dragon Body Sutra Cultivation"
"Day five — dao comprehension training."
"Day six — shared insights, each disciple teaching and learning from one another."
"Day seven — Saint Dao training, under the eyes of our ancestors."
The four Saints hovering above nodded in approval, their gazes sharp with satisfaction.
But it was the first day that stirred the most curiosity.
The Bathhouse Lightning Lotus
The Moon Lotus Sect's bathhouse was vast, carved into the mountainside, fed by underground rivers that pooled into steaming crystal water. On the first day, Haotian stood at the edge, three treasures gathered before him — a frost crystal, a fire gem, and a radiant lightning lotus he had personally drawn forth from a sealed vault.
He set the lightning lotus upon the central source crystal that pulsed beneath the bath. Golden arcs danced across the water's surface. The frost treasure and the fire gem flared defensively, but when the lightning's brilliance surged, both treasures quieted. They dared not contend against its dominance.
At first, the disciples marveled only at the sight. But as the days passed, the bath itself began to change.
The clear water deepened into a shimmering gold, veins of lightning snaking through it like living dragons. Every ripple carried sparks that leapt onto skin. Those who stepped into the water gasped as their bodies tingled, their bones vibrating with crackling resonance.
By the fourth day, the lightning was no longer silent. When Haotian entered the bathhouse alone, the arcs seemed to whisper — no, to speak.
"Golden lightning tempers flesh. Golden lightning sharpens the dao. In this pool, bodies harden, cultivation speeds quicken, and lightning insights bloom."
Haotian froze, golden arcs dancing across his skin, his hair rising with static. Surprise flickered in his eyes — and then delight.
"So that's it," he whispered, laughter spilling into the steamy air. "This place… it isn't just a bathhouse anymore. It's a forge. A crucible for body and dao both."
His heart quickened. If lightning could temper flesh and quicken cultivation here, then with frost and fire treasures balanced alongside…
A thought struck him, electric as the arcs dancing around his hands.
"Does this mean…" he murmured, eyes glowing, "…this is the perfect ground to forge a Five Elemental Body Physique?"
The water answered with a thunderous crackle, arcs flaring bright as suns.
Haotian's smile widened. For the first time, the Moon Lotus Sect had not just a training schedule, but a sacred ground — a place where disciples could temper not only their avatars, but their very bodies into vessels of elemental power.
And thus began the Sect's path to the impossible.
The Moon Lotus Sect's bathhouse no longer resembled a simple place of cleansing. Array posts lined the marble walls, each etched with concealment runes and perfected soundless formations. When activated, the vast chamber dissolved into veiled partitions of mist. From within, no disciple could see or hear another. Only Haotian, standing at the heart of the formation, could pass freely between them.
This was the sect's sanctified training ground, where mass dual cultivation with chi circulation had already become the foundation of their rise. The female disciples, once hesitant, now welcomed the practice openly, their dao blossoming under Haotian's guidance. The bathhouse had become not only a place of body tempering, but of breakthroughs, of growth, and of unity.
Now, with the Lightning Lotus pulsing above the central source crystal, the bath itself had changed. Golden arcs danced through the steaming water, weaving like living veins. The frost and fire treasures rested respectfully at the sides, subdued under the lotus's authority.
Haotian entered first, golden eyes glowing faintly in the lightning-lit mist. As he lowered himself into the pool, the currents surged around him, licking across his skin in brilliant arcs. His body shuddered once before settling into a steady hum of power.
"All right," his voice carried through the formation, calm and warm, "begin."
The disciples obeyed without hesitation. One by one, they sank into the concealed partitions, guiding their chi into resonance with Haotian's circulating flow. Immediately, the bath came alive.
Lightning arcs rushed into their bodies, tempering bones, scouring meridians, flooding them with both sharp pain and rolling waves of pleasure. But this time, there were no frightened cries. No embarrassed laughter. The women of the Moon Lotus Sect had long since embraced dual cultivation with him. Their bodies knew the rhythm, their spirits welcomed it, and their dao harmonized with the crackling light.
The bathhouse filled with muffled thunder and soft golden radiance. Each disciple's aura flared as they cultivated — avatars flickering briefly in the mist before being drawn deeper into their cores. The concealment posts kept them blind to one another, but every heartbeat was synchronized with Haotian's chi at the center.
From above, the Four Saint Dragons observed. Yuying's voice drifted like a sigh. "He has turned what was once shameful into sacred practice. Their dao no longer rejects him. It welcomes him as if he were born to guide them."
"Not only guide," Jinhai rumbled, his voice low as mountains shifting. "He forges them — body, avatar, dao — all within the same crucible. What sect could match this?"
The lightning arcs continued to intensify. Sparks burrowed into marrow, resonating with flesh and spirit alike. The disciples' qi cycles spun faster, their bodies hardening even as insights began to surface. The water glowed like liquid gold, every ripple a thread of lightning refining the sect's foundation.
Haotian's voice rose once more, warm and firm. "Guide the lightning into your dantian. Do not resist its rhythm. Let it temper your bones, cleanse your marrow, sharpen your dao. Every spark you endure is a step closer to immortality."
And they obeyed, joyfully, willingly, with no complaints. For in this bath, under his hand, even pain became a pathway, and even pleasure became a forge.
By the time the session ended, their cultivation bases pulsed brighter, their qi channels clearer, and their bodies subtly stronger. The golden lightning had not only tempered them — it had blessed them with speed and insight none had expected.
Haotian stepped from the pool last, droplets running down his lightning-lit skin, his smile carrying quiet satisfaction.
"This bath," he murmured to himself, watching the lightning arcs still dancing across the surface, "isn't just a place for cleansing. It's the foundation of something greater. A forge for a Five Elemental Body Physique… for all of us."
The lightning hissed in answer, golden sparks bursting like applause.
The next morning, the disciples assembled in the grand lotus hall, a vast chamber carved into the mountain's heart. A translucent dome overhead shimmered with lotus patterns, bathing the room in shifting blues and silvers. Every woman carried herself differently than the day before — their steps steadier, their eyes sharper, their qi circulation smoother after the lightning baptism.
At the head of the hall, Haotian stood barefoot, his Dao Spear resting lightly against his shoulder. His smile was the same as ever — warm, mischievous, disarming. But when he looked at them, each disciple felt the subtle weight of his presence. He was not just their Senior Brother. He was their axis.
"Yesterday," Haotian began, voice carrying gently across the chamber, "your bodies were tempered by lightning. Today, we weave that strength into your roots. The Moon Lotus Codex isn't just words on a scroll — it's a rhythm. A pulse. When followed, it makes you one with the dao of lotus bloom and moonlight flow."
The disciples nodded in unison, excitement flickering in their eyes.
Haotian clapped his hands once. "Form circles. Three to a group. Circulate the codex together. Don't force harmony — let your qi braid itself like lotus stems beneath water. The formations will shield you, as yesterday, but I'll be moving among you. Relax. Flow."
Mist rose from the embedded formation flags. In an instant, the hall dissolved into veiled partitions of moonlight. Each disciple could see only her circle. Only Haotian moved freely between the veils, his presence like a calm sun guiding the tides.
The disciples seated themselves, legs folded, palms raised in lotus mudras. Their qi stirred. Frost, flame, and lightning — remnants of the treasures — whispered faintly through their meridians. The codex's patterns began to awaken.
From above, the Four Saint Dragons manifested. Yuying floated gracefully, her robes flowing like falling snow. "The codex is elegant, but elegance without strength withers. Let him guide you to anchor lightning into your blossoms."
Haotian smiled at her words and moved among the veils. He stopped before one group, three disciples whose qi clashed — one's frost suppressing another's flame, the third's lightning trembling uncertainly between them. Their faces twisted with strain.
"Breathe," Haotian said softly. He knelt, his palm brushing the floor between them. Golden arcs pulsed outward, knitting their cycles into rhythm. "You're not three separate rivers. You're one lake. Stop fighting to shine alone — share the reflection."
The strain melted. Their qi braided smoothly, frost cooling flame, lightning dancing between. Their avatars flickered faintly behind them, aligned for the first time.
A few veils away, Meiyun raised her hand. Dragonic qi swept across the chamber like a sudden storm wind. Every disciple's qi cycle wavered under the pressure. "If your codex rhythm breaks under a single gale," she said firmly, "it is nothing but a child's game."
The disciples stiffened, nearly breaking. But Haotian's voice rang through the veils, calm and encouraging. "Don't panic! Let the wind in — bend like lotus stems, don't fight like stubborn trees. Flow around her, not against her!"
And slowly, one by one, the codex patterns stabilized again. The disciples' breaths grew even, their qi weaving back into harmony despite the storm pressing against them.
Jinhai's deep voice rumbled from above. "He teaches them to bend, yet their roots remain strong. Good."
Hours passed. Sweat beaded foreheads, but the disciples endured. The codex's elegant flows, once fragile, now pulsed steady, stronger than ever. Their avatars shimmered brighter than the day before, petals unfolding, wings spreading, blades sharpening.
At last, Haotian called, "Enough."
The veils dissolved. The hall returned to a single chamber, filled with the faint glow of hundreds of lotus-shaped qi patterns spinning in unison. The disciples' eyes gleamed, their cultivation bases firm, their dao roots deeper.
Haotian leaned against his spear, smiling wide. "See? Yesterday you tempered the body. Today you rooted your dao. You've tied your avatars into the lotus flow. Tomorrow, we'll test them directly. Step by step, you'll learn that each path supports the other."
The Four Saint Dragons exchanged glances. Yangshen chuckled, his voice like rolling thunder. "He does not carry them with command. He carries them with joy. That is why they follow."
Haotian only laughed, waving the disciples toward the exits. "Go eat, rest, and prepare. Tomorrow, the avatars will fight."
And so ended the second day — the Moon Lotus Codex no longer a fragile scripture, but a living pulse beating within every disciple of the sect.
The training plateau stretched wide beneath the morning sky, its stone floor etched with fresh runic circles Haotian had carved the night before. The air shimmered faintly with protective wards, ensuring even if a clash grew wild, no disciple would suffer mortal harm.
The disciples gathered, robes swaying in the breeze, eyes alight with anticipation. After the lightning bath and codex flows, their bodies felt stronger, their qi clearer. Now, they would prove it.
Haotian stood at the center, his Dao Spear resting lightly against his shoulder. His grin was boyish, his golden eyes sharp with mischief.
"Yesterday you learned to flow together. Today," he said, planting his spear into the ground with a ringing thunk, "we see what happens when you fight each other."
Gasps rippled through the disciples. Some laughed nervously, others tightened fists.
"Don't look at me like that," Haotian teased, smirking. "What good is a flower that's never been tested by wind or rain? Avatars aren't meant to sit pretty. They're meant to fight beside you, to shield and strike, to grow teeth and claws."
He swept his gaze across them. "Pairs. Summon your avatars. Clash until one cannot continue. I'll be watching."
Mist rose as the concealment formation activated, shielding groups from each other. But Haotian moved freely, slipping between veils like a phantom.
The First Clash
Two disciples faced each other within their misty circle. One's avatar bloomed as a frost lotus, petals spinning like icy blades. The other's took the form of a radiant phoenix, wings blazing with flame. Their eyes locked.
"Begin," Haotian said softly.
The lotus spun forward, scattering shards of frost. The phoenix answered with a wingbeat, fire scattering the shards into steam. The two avatars collided with an explosion of sparks, the disciples' qi flaring as they guided their partners.
Haotian's laughter rang out. "Good! Don't just push your avatar ahead like a shield. Feel with it. Move with it. When it bleeds, you bleed — when you breathe, it breathes."
The frost disciple gasped as her avatar staggered under the phoenix's flame. She almost panicked — but then Haotian's voice cut in, gentle but firm:
"Don't resist fire with ice. Guide it. Ice can melt, and melted ice becomes water. Water drowns fire. Flow around her."
Her eyes widened. She shifted her qi. The lotus no longer clashed head-on, but spun low, its icy mist condensing into flowing water that swept under the phoenix's flame. With a cry, the phoenix faltered, drowned by the sudden tide.
The frost disciple won — not by brute force, but by transformation.
Across the Plateau
Dozens of clashes erupted. Avatars collided in showers of light, some stable, some breaking apart when their wielders lost focus. The air thrummed with qi, laughter, shouts, and the crash of avatar against avatar.
Haotian weaved among them, never raising his spear, only guiding with words and presence. He teased one disciple for tripping over her own lotus roots. He clapped another on the shoulder when she adapted mid-fight.
"Don't grit your teeth like that, you'll crack them! Breathe, and your avatar will breathe with you.""Too stiff! You look like you're reciting scripture, not fighting. Loosen up, or your avatar will trip over its own feet."
Every correction struck true. Every smile lifted their spirits.
The Ancestors Test
High above, the Four Saint Dragons exchanged glances. Then, with a wave of Yangshen's hand, the protective wards pulsed. Illusions of dragon shadows poured into the veils, towering above the disciples' avatars. Roars shook the plateau, pressing down with dragon might.
Some avatars quivered under the pressure. A few nearly collapsed.
The disciples gasped, eyes wide, until Haotian's voice cut across the veils, warm as sunlight.
"Don't falter! Don't forget what we've built. The lightning tempered your bodies. The codex rooted your dao. Trust them. Trust yourselves. Look at your avatars — they're still standing, so why are you doubting?"
His words struck deeper than dragon roars. Slowly, the disciples steadied. Their avatars flared, wings spreading, petals spinning, blades glowing. Together, they faced the illusions and stood firm.
From above, Meiyun smiled faintly. "He anchors them with laughter, not chains. They do not fear him. They believe him."
Jinhai's rumble followed. "And belief makes them unbreakable."
Haotian's Demonstration
When the clashes ended, the veils dropped. The disciples stood panting, flushed, their avatars glowing faintly at their sides. Some swayed, exhausted. Others beamed with pride.
Haotian stretched, cracking his neck. "Not bad. But let me show you how far this path can go."
He raised his hand. Golden light surged. In an instant, a blazing avatar bloomed behind him — a vast lotus wreathed in lightning arcs, petals glowing like molten gold. Its presence alone silenced the plateau.
Haotian smiled, his tone easy. "This isn't to make you feel small. It's to remind you what's waiting if you keep walking. You've already taken the first steps. Don't stop."
The sound rolled across the mountains, bright and defiant.
Haotian laughed, waving them off. "Alright, alright, enough shouting. Go eat before you collapse. Tomorrow, we cultivate the Undying Dragon Body Sutra — and I promise you, it'll make today feel like a warm-up."
The disciples groaned, half-dreading, half-thrilled. The Saint Dragons above smiled quietly, their eyes reflecting pride.
And so Day Three ended, the sect stronger than it had ever been, their avatars no longer ornaments, but companions ready to fight by their side.