"Boom… boom… boom… boom…!"
Thunder roared across the heavens, tearing through the clouds as if some terrifying existence was approaching, its presence shaking the world itself.
High above, a crimson-scaled dragon coiled through the stormy sky, its obsidian-black scales gleaming with cold, metallic light. Two sharp horns crowned its head, piercing toward the heavens. Blazing fire-spirit energy surged around its massive body, scorching the air wherever it passed. Mountains burned, rivers evaporated—life withered in its wake.
Upon the dragon's broad back stood a golden-haired youth. He wore a black-and-gold robe, majestic as a sovereign descending to the mortal realm. His golden hair fluttered wildly in the raging winds, his gaze cold and commanding.
"Hand it over," the youth's deep voice echoed across the entire mountain range, "and I might grant you an intact corpse."
"Want it?""Then step over my dead body first!"
Deep within the forest, a man stood battered and wounded, his clothes torn and soaked with blood. Despite his ragged appearance, an oppressive aura surged from him—one that made even the bravest tremble.
He gently placed the sleeping infant in his arms onto a soft bundle of cloth, then drove his long spear into the ground. With a roar, he formed a series of hand seals. In an instant, a golden qilin—hundreds of meters tall—burst forth behind him.
The qilin phantom stomped forward, its roar shaking heaven and earth as it clashed with the crimson dragon above.
"No matter," the youth sneered. "Today, I shall take both the child and your Qilin Art."
He raised his hand.The fiery dragon opened its jaws and released a torrent of blazing flames. Crimson fire swept across the mountains, turning the world into a sea of hellish heat and destruction.
"No—!"
"Fan'er!"
Countless broken memories tore through the boy's mind. Suddenly, everything collapsed into darkness—as if swallowed by a void.
"Ah—!"
A young boy jolted awake, breathing heavily.
"Damn… that dream again."
Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, he sat up from the rough wooden bed piled with dried grass. He looked about twelve or thirteen, his face pale yet still carrying a trace of childish softness.
He threw a punch, strength bursting from his fist—but he only sighed in disappointment.
"Still the same… nothing's changed."
Stretching lazily, he pushed aside the faded blanket and got out of bed. After stepping outside, he lifted a clay jar and watered several herbs growing by his doorway.
"Hm… another half month and this Spirit-Gathering Herb should mature. I can refine another Qi-Gathering Pill then."
He muttered happily to himself.
Dew glimmered on the leaves. The storm from last night had just passed, and the morning sun painted the sky with dazzling colors. A faint rainbow hung overhead, turning the scene into a breathtaking picture.
After a short walk, he reached a courtyard. It wasn't luxurious, but in this small region, owning one already made the family quite well-off.
A large plaque hung above the entrance: "Xuan Changxi."
Xuan Changxi was one of the elders of Xuan Sect. His cultivation had reached the peak of Qi Condensation, making him a respected figure within this small sect.
Xuan Sect itself was only a minor force. Within the whole of Xiqiong Prefecture, it barely counted as a second-rate organization. Most of its disciples made a living by hunting in the beast-filled forests to the east—so mastering spells and techniques was essential for survival.
To wield divine abilities, one needed a spiritual root—only then could one absorb spiritual energy, shape it, command it, and eventually use it to forge spells.
The boy entered the courtyard and immediately saw a handsome youth in an orange robe—around fourteen—devouring buns as if he'd been starving for days.
Beside him sat a middle-aged man with streaks of gray in his hair. He puffed on a smoking pipe, lost in thought.
"Slow down. No one's stealing your food. And why didn't you wake your little brother?"
"Mmft—'Cause I wanted 'im t' sleep longer…"The youth mumbled through a mouth stuffed with bun.
"Swallow first!"
"Ow!"
The middle-aged man smacked him on the head.
Ye Fan smiled at the warm scene. The nightmare faded from his mind.
"Fan'er, you're awake! Come eat the buns and dumplings Dad made—they're delicious!" the elder brother called out.
"Dad, Brother, morning."
Ye Fan noticed the empty teacup beside Elder Xuan, so he poured him a fresh cup of hot tea before sitting down to try a bun.
"These are amazing, Dad!"
"Told you so."
"Eat more if you like. Just don't choke," Xuan Changxi chuckled. "By the way, the Xuan Spirit Sect's entrance trials are coming soon. Are you two ready?"
"I've reached the fifth level of Qi Condensation," the older brother said after swallowing. "But my Blazing Slash is still stuck at the second stage. I just can't find the breakthrough point."
"As for me…" Ye Fan lowered his head slightly. "Ever since I broke through to the second level last year, I haven't made much progress. Even my Body-Forging Art is stuck at the second layer."
"It's alright," Xuan Changxi said gently. "Whether you make it into Xuan Spirit Sect or not, Xuan Sect will always be your home. Our gates will always be open to you."
"Thank you… Father."
Ye Fan's eyes glimmered with emotion.
"Come on, don't get all emotional in the morning," the older brother laughed. "If anyone dares bully Fan'er, I'll beat them up."
"You rascal…"Despite the scolding, pride filled Xuan Changxi's eyes.
"Oh, right—Fan'er, this is a Tier-One Body-Strengthening Pill formula. It'll help with your Body-Forging Art. See if you have the herbs in your little spirit garden. If not, I'll get more from the market later."
Ye Fan accepted it with gratitude.There was only one true alchemist in the entire Xuan Sect—Chu Tianyang. Ye Fan could only refine low-grade Qi-Gathering Pills through self-taught methods. His success rate was pitiful in comparison.
Xuan Changxi had clearly paid a price to obtain this formula.
"Alright, go practice. I've got sect matters to handle."
After half a stick of incense, Xuan Changxi returned to his room, leaving the boys to train.
Ye Fan watched his father's slightly aged back, his heart heavy.
Without a spiritual root, one could never truly step onto the path of cultivation.
The Qi Condensation Realm—first to tenth level—formed the foundation of all future realms. One absorbed spiritual energy, refined it, tempered their body and meridians, and laid the groundwork for everything that came after.
A cultivator's spiritual root dictated how quickly they could absorb that energy.
There were five recognized grades:
Supreme Single Root — peerless talent, the dream of every major sect.Heaven-Grade Dual Roots — rare geniuses born only every few years.Earth-Grade Triple Roots — slower, but still respectable.Mystic- and Yellow-Grade Roots — mediocre at best.Rootless mortals — destined for mediocrity, unless blessed by fate itself.
There were methods said to improve one's spiritual root…But all of them required luck bordering on miracles, or resources so vast that only legends spoke of them.
Yet even so—
Someone still had to fight for that impossible chance.
(To be continued…)
（I'm a new author, still learning and improving. Your support, comments, and feedback mean the world to me. Thank you for reading!）