Six months passed in the Northern Border, six months that felt like six years.
Those who survived this long were no longer recruits. They had become true border soldiers, tempered by frost, blood, exhaustion, and the constant presence of death.
Most squads had lost members. Some had been disbanded entirely.
But those who remained had earned the right to stay.
And with that right came something they had all longed for since the first day.
They were finally allowed to use their own weapons.
For sword cultivators, it felt like reuniting with a missing limb. For spear cultivators, it was as if their breathing finally fell into harmony with their heartbeat.
And as the sun rose over the icy walls, a command echoed across the Steel Frost Grounds:
"From henceforth, you may use only your own weapons."
A roar of emotion swept across the field. On some faces, tears glistened in the morning light.
No more training with mismatched tools.No more swordsmen bound to spears.No more spear-users fumbling with swords.
Those who had survived this far had proved one thing to the Northern Border:
They weren't fragile.
And now, finally, they could fight the way they were meant to.
During these months, Chu Feng's routine had taken on a sharper rhythm.
Each day, he trained in the Gravity Pavilion, a reinforced chamber enhanced with runic formations where soldiers were subjected to crushing pressure.
Where others strained, gasped, and collapsed, Chu Feng endured.
Sweat poured like rain, muscles trembled, bones groaned, and meridians stretched beyond their former limits.
The refinement tested him to the edge, yet with each gain, his sword intent grew clearer. It was as if a stronger body provided a purer channel, allowing his intent to flow unimpeded.
Gaining access to the library required merit, and Chu Feng had carefully saved his contribution points.
The Stronghold Library was nothing like the tall, elegant buildings found in sects. It was a squat, fortified structure, protected more heavily than most barracks. Formation arrays crawled across its walls. Guards inspected every entrant, verifying their plaques before allowing entry.
Inside, rows of stone shelves held scrolls and jade slips. Everything was practical. There were no flowery sword poems or artistic essays on the Dao, only battlefield tactics, survival manuals, brutal cultivation methods, weapon techniques, and medical and alchemical references.
When Chu Feng entered, he ignored the weapon manuals and flashy techniques.
His fingers paused on a worn jade slip labelled:
"Emerald Genesis Body-Refining Scripture"
A body cultivation manual.
He read the opening lines in silence. The scripture required him to repeatedly soak in medicinal solutions brewed from rare herbs such as Frostbone Stalk, Iceheart Moss and Snowfiend Ginseng. These plants only thrived in extreme climates. Some grew in the deepest cold, while others survived only in blistering heat. These herbs penetrated the skin, seeped into the bones, and tempered the body from within.
He chose it without hesitation.
As he left the library, memories surfaced unbidden.
He remembered the time when his cosmic soul had been defective. When everyone had written off his future. When he had stumbled upon that strange, old book—the one that had changed everything.
Back then, he had soaked in crude herbs and half-ruined prescriptions, pushing his cosmic soul to awaken and forcing his path forward.
Now, he was walking a similar road again.
That night, in his small barracks room, Chu Feng sat at his table, the dim glow of a single lamp illuminating the room.
As he remembered the old book, he pulled it out from his spatial ring. Its cover was worn, and the characters had faded almost to invisibility. Yet the moment he touched it, a familiar warmth stirred in his chest, like an old friend calling his name.
"Revolution…" he whispered. "Revolution Connecting Mantra…"
He opened it, expecting only to refresh old knowledge, perhaps catch a detail he had missed.
What he found instead stopped him cold.
Passages he once skimmed now seemed alive, pulsing with hidden meaning. Runes he had thought simple revealed intricate structures—layers nested within layers, strokes forming a hidden logic. Explanations he had dismissed as basic now resonated with depth, vibrating like truths he had never grasped before.
His heartbeat quickened.
The Chu Feng of that time had read with Mortal Sense. The Chu Feng now read with Awakened Sense, his mind sharper, his perception of heaven and earth subtly broader. That alone transformed the way he perceived the text.
Line after line flowed before his eyes.
"Runes are not merely marks on surfaces. They are the written language of the world's principles."
Back then, he had assumed it was just a metaphorical exaggeration.
Now…
Now, he understood.
Though... his cosmic soul, once split into two halves and now whole.
He had spent countless days fighting, training, and killing, relying almost entirely on the sword aspect of his cosmic soul. The sword was direct and sharp.
But the rune aspect? He had treated it as a tool, an auxiliary, never as a path of its own.
A mistake.
He leaned back, eyes still glued to the page, muttering softly to himself.
"I've been using runes far too rigidly this entire time."
The book continued:
"Revolutions—cycles—are the heart of runic power. To inscribe a rune is not enough; one must revolve it, circulate its pattern, and let it echo both inside the body and outward into the world."
His fingers tightened around the page.
He had never imagined runes in motion. They were always carved, activated, and left static.
"But what if…"
His mind opened to endless possibilities.
He thought he knew everything inside. He was wrong.
Day after day, he studied the book.
When he soaked in the northern herb baths, pain stabbing through muscles and bones, his mind wandered to runes.
The passages he once thought he understood now unfolded into entirely new meanings.
For the next six months, Chu Feng changed.
By day, he completed alchemy tasks to earn merit and joined his squad on patrols. In the Gravity Pavilion, he endured crushing pressure, sweat pouring, and muscles trembling under the strain.
At night, he immersed himself in runes, tracing glowing symbols in his mind, following their cycles and revolutions.
While gathering herbs, he further refined his body, tempering his muscles and meridians until they became stronger, sharper, and more resilient.
Step by step, he was beginning to understand the depths of his cosmic soul.
And before he realised it,
A full year had passed since he first stepped into Northwatch Stronghold.