The first step in cultivating qi was to draw it in. Zhuo Luo had managed to accomplish this, but the next step, condensing the qi, was far more challenging. Moreover, his approach was forceful and unconventional, which could lead to long-term harm. But Zhuo Luo didn't have the luxury of time to worry about potential consequences. For him, becoming stronger was all that mattered. In this world, there were no gains without sacrifices.
Becoming powerful came at a price. Yet, compared to the potentially disastrous consequences of failure, the cost didn't seem too severe. Sacrificing a little to ensure success felt like a reasonable trade.
"Good. Next, I'll replicate the process. As long as I can cultivate qi, I'll gain the strength to fight!"
Zhuo Luo felt a surge of excitement. For the first time, he saw hope. He believed that with this path, he could become stronger, and with enough strength, he could face the Shadow Sect. At the very least, he had to recover his former peak. He refused to believe that once he returned to his prime, he would still be no match for them.
After his initial success, subsequent attempts became easier. Zhuo Luo repeatedly used the Life Return technique to refine the qi in his body, making it increasingly powerful. In a way, this method also strengthened his physical body, turning it tougher and more resilient.
"Half a month has passed," Zhuo Wei mused as he watched the days tick by. "Even for Zhuo Luo, it's almost impossible to achieve qi cultivation within a month. And I haven't even explained the levels of qi to him yet. What an oversight!"
Zhuo Wei sighed, realizing he had been too hasty. It had taken him years to become a Level One swordsman, yet he was expecting Zhuo Luo to achieve the same within a month—a near-impossible feat.
In this world, qi cultivation was divided into levels, which served as a measure of one's strength. While everyone who trained was considered a qi practitioner, the ancient martial traditions of the continent had revolved around the use of blades. A swordsman's level was determined by how much qi they could channel into their blade and the strength of the objects they could cut.
Levels 1 and 2: The swordsman could emit sword energy.
Levels 3 and 4: The swordsman could cut through stone, though only ordinary stone.
Levels 5 and above: The swordsman could slice through iron.
The strongest individual in An Nan City, the lord of North Valley, was a Level 10 swordsman. His sword could cut through iron as if it were mud, and his strength was said to be sufficient to split a person in two—or even destroy an entire city.
Zhuo Luo had previously been able to cut through stone, a feat that marked him as a rare talent. However, that accomplishment had relied on ancient techniques that emphasized raw strength over finesse. Naturally, wielding superior weapons could offset a lack of qi. The better the weapon, the less qi was required to achieve the same result.
Despite this, few people understood what lay beyond Level 10. Most people referred to those at Level 10 as "Iron-Slayers," because at their level, ordinary iron weapons were useless against them. Their swords could easily destroy lesser blades.
In ancient and modern times, the paths of martial arts were not limited to swordsmanship. There were also practitioners of martial and magical techniques, though these paths were rare and had faded into obscurity. While martial arts relied on powerful fists, swords remained the strongest tool of destruction. Though the art of the blade had declined, swordsmanship was still recognized as supreme.
"He's already excellent," Zhuo Wei murmured. "I can't imagine what he might become if he continues like this. Maybe, in ten years, he'll reach Level 10. He has the potential."
Zhuo Wei recognized that Zhuo Luo's talent was extraordinary, perhaps even surpassing that of his younger brother. Though once dismissed as a failure, Zhuo Luo had proven that the label of "trash" was meaningless. In this world, the only true failure was the unwillingness to grow stronger.
The Shadow Sect could appear at any moment, and their terrifying power loomed over the Zhuo family like a dark cloud. Zhuo Wei had no confidence in their ability to resist, but he was ready to make any sacrifice to protect the family.
"Let's cast a divination," Zhuo Wei thought. "Maybe it will offer some clarity. Or perhaps I'm just overthinking things."
He retrieved three coins and tossed them into the air. When they landed, two of the coins had shattered. Zhuo Wei's face darkened. He hadn't anticipated such an outcome. This was an ominous reading—extreme misfortune, though tempered with a hint of fortune. It was an unusual and baffling result.
Looking up at the night sky, he noticed a falling star. The position of the star suggested that it wasn't a significant one—perhaps symbolizing a mediocre or unknown individual. Still, its fall, combined with the divination, was troubling. The signs all pointed to calamity.
"Could it be that the Shadow Sect is preparing a devastating strike against the Zhuo family?" Zhuo Wei muttered, his expression grim.
Yet, among the countless stars, one shone brighter than the rest, as if proclaiming its extraordinary nature. Despite the ominous signs, this single star seemed to signal the presence of someone exceptional, still struggling against the tides of fate.
"Someone with an extraordinary destiny is still fighting," Zhuo Wei concluded. "I hope that someone is you, Zhuo Luo. Live well and become the master of your fate!"
Setting aside his thoughts, Zhuo Wei resolved to accept whatever came. In this world, there were those who could seize control of their lives—and Zhuo Wei believed Zhuo Luo could be one of them.