The corpses twitched violently as crimson light from the banner surged through them. Bones cracked, flesh writhed, and their empty sockets flickered with an eerie red glow.
Jian Wuxin took a step back, heart pounding in awe and terror.
But just as the transformation began to take form, the banner halted midair—its silken threads stiffening, the light retreating.
> "Not enough."
The voice returned, sharper than before.
> "Your cultivation is too low. Your body cannot withstand the strain. I cannot properly convert these remains with a host this weak."
Jian Wuxin gritted his teeth. "Then what do I do? You said I could have them."
> "You can. But not now."
The banner pulsed faintly with frustrated energy, like a starving beast denied its prey.
> "You possess an Earth-grade spirit root—five-element alignment. Mediocre... but usable. If you cultivate diligently, with the pills and the spirit stones in your possession, you should be able to reach the fifth stage of Qi Refining within a month."
The fifth stage?
Jian Wuxin frowned. "How many stages are there?"
> "Nine."
He cursed under his breath.
Still, the idea of gaining five stages in a single month didn't sound impossible. He had the Qi Refining manual. He had the pills. The stones. The secluded forest. No prying eyes. No sect masters. No rules.
> "You must go into seclusion. Ten days, at the very least. If you can make progress, I will assist you. If you waste this opportunity, you will forever remain a worm."
Jian Wuxin sat down heavily by the dying campfire. He looked at his calloused hands, at the blood under his fingernails, and then at the banner coiled beside him.
Ten days of seclusion, huh?
His eyes shifted to the two Qi Refining pills in his bag. To the ten spirit stones.
If that's what it took to use the banner's full power—to raise puppets, to control souls, to become more than a petty mountain thief—then so be it.
He grabbed the worn cultivation manual.
"Fine," he muttered. "Ten days it is."
He dug a pit in the mountain soil, lined it with stones, and made a small hideaway beneath the roots of a fallen tree—enough space to sit and train without being seen.
And then, for the first time, Jian Wuxin opened the Qi Refining manual with the intent to cultivate.
Ten days of silence. Ten days of meditation, focus, and pain.
He didn't know what waited at the end.
But if the heavens wanted to shackle this world—
He'd start Sharpening his blad.
The world above moved on—wind rustling trees, birds crying overhead, distant beasts howling in the dark—but beneath the roots of the fallen tree, time slowed to the rhythm of breath and Qi.
Jian Wuxin sat cross-legged, surrounded by a crude circle of spirit stones, the Qi Refining manual open in front of him. A faint glow from one of the stones illuminated the carved characters on its page.
> "Breathe with intent. Sense the energy of the world. Let it fill the vessel within."
Day One:
The first day was miserable.
No matter how he sat, his back ached. He couldn't find this so-called "vessel." When he tried to breathe slowly, his thoughts raced instead—memories of hunger, the blood on his hands, the stolen pills, the whispering banner.
Still, he persisted.
He focused on his breath.
And sometime before dawn, something stirred.
A warmth in his gut. A pressure like steam rising in a sealed pot.
It faded before he could grasp it, but it left a mark.
Day Two:
He took one spirit stone and clutched it tightly in his palm as he meditated.
This time, the warmth came quicker. The manual said Qi flowed like mist, gathering around the dantian in the lower abdomen.
By evening, he felt a faint strand of energy coil in that place.
Day Three:
He consumed the first Qi Refining Pill.
The result was immediate—a rush of heat, pressure in his meridians. He broke into a cold sweat as his body trembled, but he bit his lip and endured.
Qi swirled. Lines of pain lit up his arms and legs as the energy forced open his body's closed gates.
Late that night, the first real surge of energy stabilized.
> First Stage of Qi Refining.
He grinned through the pain. It had begun.
Day Four:
He didn't sleep.
He couldn't.
The floodgates had cracked, and Qi now trickled into him constantly.
He cycled his breath with the method described in the manual—inhale for eight beats, hold for four, exhale through the nose.
Time passed in a haze of clarity and struggle.
Day Five:
The second spirit stone had gone dim, its Qi absorbed.
He used another.
His body ached in strange places now—muscles twitching, veins hot.
But the pain was no longer unbearable. It was becoming... normal.
He sensed his Qi becoming more stable, filling the dantian with denser threads.
Day Six:
> Second Stage of Qi Refining.
He nearly cried when he realized it.
He meditated for twelve hours straight, unmoving, as his body soaked in every wisp of energy from the spirit stones.
He was no longer Jian Wuxin, nameless bandit. He was now a cultivator.
Day Seven:
He read through the biography again.
It spoke of Qi rivers, meridian paths, and something called the Minor Heavenly Cycle.
His Earth-grade spirit root seemed to resonate best with earth-attribute Qi, though his five-element root gave him a bit of everything.
The banner whispered to him once.
> "Grow stronger. Feed me."
He ignored it.
Day Eight:
> Third Stage of Qi Refining.
His breathing now carried a faint echo. The roots around his secluded hole had darkened slightly from the Qi-dense air.
He felt stronger.
His muscles were firmer. His vision clearer. His instincts sharper.
He no longer feared every rustle in the woods.
Day Nine:
> Fourth Stage of Qi Refining.
He was burning through spirit stones now—one each day.
His dantian began to expand.
He understood now. The more Qi it could hold, the more powerful he became. Simple, but terrifying.
He saved his last Qi Refining Pill for the final push.
Day Ten:
He consumed the second pill at dawn.
It struck like lightning.
Qi roared through him, tearing and mending meridians all at once. He nearly screamed, but grit his teeth until his jaw locked.
The world tilted.
And then...
Silence.
Qi swirled inside him, faster, denser. Five strands of elemental Qi spun around his dantian like a miniature storm—earth, fire, wood, metal, and water. All faint, but present.
His eyes snapped open.
> Fifth Stage of Qi Refining.
---
He crawled out from beneath the tree just as the sun broke the horizon.
His clothes were ragged, his face gaunt, but his eyes burned with something new—purpose.
The Soul Devouring Banner pulsed softly beside him, waiting.
And this time, when it whispered—
> "Now... we begin."
—Jian Wuxin smiled.