The silver moon began to dip behind the jagged, tooth-like spires of the Cloud-Mist peaks, surrendering the sky to a bruised, heavy grey. At the Black-Cold Spring, the temperature had dropped to a point where the air itself felt brittle, as if the wind might shatter if it blew too hard against the stone.
Long Chen stood at the edge of the dark, oily pool. He had finished the sixty tubs; the great stone vat at the kitchen's rear was finally brimming with the dark, heavy water. His task was complete, his body screaming in a language of dull aches and sharp stabs. Yet, as he stood there, his skin possessed a faint, translucent sheen—like polished marble under a thin layer of frost. He found his feet refused to move.
The Thump in his chest had transformed. It was no longer a frantic kick of a dying heart; it was a steady, low-frequency vibration that seemed to synchronize with the mountain itself. It was calling to something hidden beneath the crushing pressure of the black water.
"Koda, stay back," Long Chen murmured. His voice sounded different—resonant, vibrating in his own throat like a struck bell.
The ferret scurried to a nearby jagged rock, his black eyes fixed on the swirling pool. Long Chen reached his hand into the water, not to fill a bucket, but to touch the source he had sensed earlier. As his fingers plunged into the liquid ice, the rusted key in his pocket didn't just heat up—it screamed. A high-pitched, silent frequency vibrated through his hip bone, making his teeth ache.
He reached deeper, his arm submerged up to the shoulder. His fingers brushed the slime-covered stones at the bottom, and suddenly, he felt a mechanical click.
A section of the basin floor, hidden behind a thick curtain of frozen, black kelp, gave way. It wasn't a collapse of rock; it was a silent, ancient shift of perfectly fitted gears. The water began to drain into a vertical shaft, creating a localized whirlpool that revealed a narrow, spiral staircase carved directly into the bedrock.
Long Chen descended.
The air changed instantly. The biting frost of the surface was replaced by a dry, ancient warmth. The walls were lined with a dull, bioluminescent moss that pulsed in time with his heartbeat, casting a soft, amber glow. At the bottom sat a small, circular chamber. In the center, resting on a pedestal of unpolished black obsidian, was a single jade slip and a hammer made of rough, grey stone.
Long Chen touched the jade. Information didn't just flow; it crashed into him like a mountain falling into the sea. This wasn't a "Sect Manual." This was a Recording of Origin.
"To build a world, one must first know how it breaks."
The voice echoed in his skull. Long Chen turned his gaze to the stone hammer. It looked modest, like a tool a common mason would use to build a peasant's wall. But when he gripped the handle, his knees nearly buckled. It was heavier than a hundred water buckets. It possessed a "Weight" that had nothing to do with gravity and everything to do with Authority.
He sat cross-legged, the hammer resting on his lap. He didn't close his eyes; he kept them open to observe the "Structure" of the world. He saw the stress lines in the chamber walls, the way the stone leaned against the mountain's weight. He saw himself—not as "Dust," but as a masterpiece that had simply been waiting for the right craftsman.
Author's Note: New Concepts & Techniques
Name:
The Stone-Breaker's Gavel
Type:origin Grade you can say deeply connected to long Chen past or his background
Description:
A rough-hewn, grey stone hammer. It ignores external armor and vibrates the "Origin Point" of any object it hits, causing it to shatter from the inside out.
Name:
The First Pulse
Type:technique (body tempering)
Description:
Instead of storing Qi as gas, this compresses energy into the marrow of the bones, making the skeleton denser than diamond.
Name: Origin Sight
Type: Preception Ability
Description:
A passive skill allowing Long Chen to see "weak points" or "stress lines" in any physical object or enemy movement.
Chapter 4 Continued...
Long Chen emerged from the secret shaft just as the first sliver of the sun hit the peaks, turning the mist into a sea of liquid gold.
He looked the same to a casual observer, but his walk had changed. The slouch was gone. The way he carried the empty iron buckets was no longer a display of effort, but a display of absolute control.
As he walked back toward the kitchen, the silence of the morning was broken by the sound of many boots.
Standing in the center of the kitchen courtyard, surrounded by a dozen Inner Disciples, was a man in deep purple robes—Steward of the Inner Court, Elder Gao. A Level 4 practitioner. A man who could snuff out a servant's life as easily as blowing out a candle.
"The 'Dust' that broke a disciple's leg," Gao said, his voice echoing with a metallic ring. He looked at Long Chen with a cold, clinical curiosity. "Liu says you used a forbidden artifact. Han says you are a demon in disguise."
Long Chen stopped ten paces away. He didn't bow. The Stone-Breaker's Gavel was tucked into his belt, hidden from sight by a simple trick of his new Origin Sight—he knew exactly where to stand so the shadows hid the weapon.
"I found no artifacts, Elder," Long Chen said, his voice calm and grounded. "I only found that the mountain is much heavier than the Sect believes. And I have learned to carry that weight."
Elder Gao's eyes flashed. The air around him began to vibrate. "Arrogance. Let's see if your bones are as heavy as your words. Stand still, boy."
Gao took a step forward. A massive, invisible weight—the pressure of a Level 4 Aura—slammed down onto the courtyard. The stone tiles beneath Long Chen's feet cracked and spider-webbed.
Long Chen felt the pressure. It felt like a mountain was trying to push him into the dirt. But he didn't fight it with his muscles. He used his Origin Sight. He saw the "lines" of the Elder's pressure and shifted his weight by a mere inch, letting the force flow around his bones and into the ground.
Five breaths... eight breaths...
Long Chen stood perfectly still. He wasn't sweating. He wasn't trembling. To the shock of the watching disciples, he looked like he was simply enjoying a morning breeze.
"Is that all?" Long Chen asked softly.
The courtyard went deathly silent. Even Koda, hiding in his tunic, let out a tiny, defiant squeak.