As Ethan ventured deeper into the cave, the air grew colder and heavier. Each step echoed faintly off damp, narrow walls, yet there was an unnatural silence pressing against his ears—as if the very cave held its breath.
Then he saw them.
Bodies.
Several of them, strewn like discarded dolls. Some had decayed into bone, others remained oddly preserved, their faces twisted in terror. Most wore robes with scattered insignias—some unknown, others bearing clan crests.
He quickly scanned the area. Pouches. Sacks. Shredded robes. Blood-dried rings on fingers.
Storage rings.
Without hesitation, Ethan stepped closer and carefully pried them off the cold fingers. He collected what he could—two storage rings, a reinforced leather satchel, a small alchemy pouch, and several vials of unknown liquid. Beside one body, he spotted a simple steel-bladed short sword with a faint spiritual glint—it had clearly been used in the last moments of its wielder's life.
He took them all.
Further in, the cave widened into a dome-shaped chamber, and that's when he saw it—a soft, radiant glow filling the space.
The Spiritual Vein.
It pulsed with rich spiritual energy, the earth around it humming faintly like a living being. A small pile of mid-grade spirit stones lay nearby, glittering under the faint bluish aura, some still embedded in the ground, others scattered loosely as if tossed in haste.
Ethan's breath caught in his throat.
"So this… was the heart of it."
That immense energy—it could attract not just beasts, but human cultivators as well. The formation that once concealed it was gone, destroyed when Ethan entered earlier. Anyone nearby with a shred of sensitivity would soon feel the spiritual pressure oozing from the vein.
"Whoever set that formation… might have been a powerful individual. Or a clan," Ethan muttered.
They might return.
He clenched his jaw. Then I'll claim it first.
Without wasting a second, he swept the stones into the rings and bag until he had stored thousands of mid-level spirit stones. As he finished, a low murmur echoed—not through the cave, but inside his mind.
"It will take some time before the beasts sense this level of energy."
It was Eryndor.
"Your body is far sturdier than before. It should be able to absorb energy directly from liquefied spiritual essence. See that narrow tunnel to your left? Go inside it."
Ethan hesitated, squinting toward the shadowed crevice. It looked barely wide enough for a grown man to crawl through.
Still, he trusted Eryndor's instincts. With a deep breath, he squeezed into the passage, his body brushing against cold stone as he inched forward. The scent changed—cooler, sharper, charged.
After what felt like minutes, he emerged into a hidden subterranean cavern.
And there it was.
A slow-moving underground river of liquefied spiritual energy, glowing with an otherworldly silver-blue hue. The air here was thick with power, making his skin tingle and his heartbeat quicken.
Eryndor's voice returned, more serious now.
"Enter the river. Use the technique I once created—Void Meridian Flow."
Ethan's pulse raced. "Void Meridian Flow…?"
"Yes. It will synchronize your meridians with the pulse of the energy. Your body will drink it like a starved flame sucking in air."
There was a moment's hesitation—but only a moment.
He stepped into the river.
At first, the sensation was soothing, like warm silk wrapping his limbs. Then he crossed his legs and activated the technique.
The effect was immediate.
His meridians flared open.
The spiritual liquid began to flow into him—not gently, but in a torrent. It surged through his body, compressing his Qi, widening his dantian, strengthening muscle and bone. His skin glowed faintly under the surface of the water, veins pulsing with power.
His breath deepened.
His thoughts sharpened.
The world faded.
He had no sense of time. Only motion and stillness. Absorption and transformation.
Then—
Crack!
A sound echoed from within his body. Not pain, but a breakthrough.
Qi Refinement Level 5—surpassed.
But the flow continued.
"I never imagined I'd feel this much energy…" Ethan whispered, voice distant even to himself.
Above him, the spiritual river rippled—and far above that, in the silent forest, the air trembled as something—or someone—turned toward the cave.
The formation was gone.
And the world had noticed
> One stage passed.
Then another.
Then another.
He had entered the 7th realm.
And now, surged all the way to the 8th stage
Ethan's eyes remained shut, his breathing slow and steady, but his heart pounded like a war drum. His veins glowed faintly beneath his skin, pulsing with Qi so dense it shimmered. The liquid spiritual energy around him had turned turbulent, swirling like a whirlpool, pulled into his body with relentless hunger. The technique—Soul Vein Refinement—was brutal but efficient, taught to Eryndor by an ancient elder of the Universal Clan.
The surrounding cave quivered, small rocks falling into the river from the ceiling. Ethan opened his eyes. They gleamed with a silver hue, and for a moment, he felt weightless—like he was drifting between the physical and spiritual planes.
"You're absorbing faster than expected," Eryndor's voice echoed in his mind. "Careful. Too much, too fast, and your meridians might rupture."
"I know," Ethan whispered, voice strained.
Still, he refused to stop. Power flowed into him like a dam unleashed. His body was hot—searing from the inside—yet stable, fortified by the refinement technique. He felt everything more acutely: the flow of energy, the vibrations in the stone walls, the subtle shifts in the currents of the underground river.
Minutes stretched into hours.
Then, silence.
The river calmed. Ethan slowly floated to the edge, pulling himself out of the glowing stream. Steam rose off his skin, his body glistening with condensation. He sat back against the stone wall, chest rising and falling. His clothes were half-burnt from the surge of spiritual pressure. He reached into one of the storage rings he'd collected earlier and changed into a black, fitted cultivator robe with silver embroidery—clearly made for someone from a high-ranking sect.
"It fits," he muttered, smirking faintly.
Eryndor laughed in the back of his mind. "Of course it does. That robe once belonged to a disciple of the Violet Sky Sect. I killed him myself."
Ethan's expression froze. "You remember that?"
"Bits and pieces. More are coming. Every time you absorb energy or use techniques I once knew... fragments return."
As Ethan adjusted his robe, he scanned the surroundings again using his system. [Scanning for disturbances...] the familiar text blinked in his vision.
[PULSE DETECTED - Approx. 3.6 km - Hostile lifeform approaching]
A chill crept up his spine.
"A beast," he muttered.
"No," Eryndor corrected grimly. "Worse. A human cultivator."
Ethan stood quickly, reaching for the mid-level spirit stones he hadn't stored. He shoved a few hundred more into his ring, then grabbed the remaining ones with a spare cloth bag. Every second mattered now.
He darted back through the narrow tunnel that led to the main cave chamber, feet gliding across stone as if weightless. As he emerged, he activated the Qi Concealment Layer technique—an advanced stealth method Eryndor had mastered. His presence faded, like a leaf falling unseen in the wind.
But his heart beat louder than ever.
"Someone's coming for what's mine," he growled under his breath. "Let them try."
Then, he vanished into the darkness—eyes burning with resolve, robe fluttering behind him, and a storm quietly awakening within his soul.