De-Reece's breathing slowed, each inhale echoing softly against the stone walls of the cave. The coolness of the rock pressed against his back as he shifted, peering into the darkness ahead. His heart still thundered from the chase, but now the dragon's roars were muffled by the thick stone, distant and impotent.
As his eyes adjusted, something caught his attention — a faint, unnatural glow. Pale light pooled along the walls, illuminating the path further inside. De-Reece's brows furrowed. These weren't natural luminescent fungi or glowing minerals. No, the light was steady, unyielding. He stepped closer and confirmed his suspicions — small stones, smooth and round, had been placed at intervals along the cave walls. Man-made.
Someone had been here before.
His pulse quickened, but not from fear. Caution guided his steps now, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his zombie knife. each stone seemed precisely positioned, forming a subtle trail leading deeper into the cavern. The path twisted and narrowed until De-Reece stumbled upon something unexpected — a trapdoor.
It was almost flush with the ground, only a faint outline and a small, switch in the corner giving it away. The air around it smelled stale, undisturbed for who knew how long. De-Reece crouched, pressing the small hidden button. It groaned in protest, but after a few moments of determined effort, the trapdoor swung open with a gritty scrape.
A short ladder led into a small chamber below, carved carefully into the rock. The space was barely large enough for him to stand upright. It was dimly lit by more of the glowing stones, casting eerie shadows across the contents of the hidden room.
His gaze darted across the shelves and crates. Dust coated most surfaces, but the items within appeared surprisingly well-preserved. De-Reece's fingers brushed over a small pile of coins — a modest sum of money, though hardly a fortune. Next to it, a cluster of crystals, faintly pulsing with energy, rested in a velvet pouch. He recognised them as low-grade spirit crystals — useful for cultivation, well if all the reading he had done had described them correctly he wouldn't be using them until he was sure.
But what truly drew his attention were the books.
Several manuals, bound in worn leather, lay stacked along the shelf. Their titles, though faded, were still legible. 'Fundamentals of Elemental Arrays,' 'Essence Refinement Techniques,' and 'Cultivation Path of The heavenly Demon.'
Cultivation and array manuals and what looked like a simple alchemist's book too.
De-Reece's mouth went dry. These weren't simple meditation guides — they were foundational texts for manipulating energy and constructing elemental defensive or offensive arrays. The knowledge that could give him an edge.
Beside the books, a small wooden case held vials filled with various liquids — some clear, others shimmering with a faint glow. He unlatched the box carefully, inspecting each vial. Healing elixirs? Poison antidotes? Without proper examination, it was impossible to tell, but their presence hinted at someone far more prepared than a mere wanderer.
And then another two vials caught his attention they had a brownish complexion to the pills in the first vial and a blue haze to the second set.
Then, he noticed the pouch.
At first glance, it seemed entirely ordinary — plain brown leather, slightly worn at the edges. Yet when De-Reece picked it up, the weight felt off. Too light for something so full. Frowning, he opened the drawstring and tentatively reached inside.
His hand went in deeper than it should have.
Much deeper.
His arm sank past his wrist, past his elbow. It was a spatial pouch.
De-Reece's mind reeled. A storage space about a meter squared, hidden within something that looked so simple. These were rare, valuable, and often only owned by powerful cultivators or wealthy merchants.
Swallowing hard, he slung the pouch onto his belt, his mind racing. Who had left all of this here? And why?
Whatever the answers, De-Reece knew one thing for certain — his discovery had just shifted the balance of his future. The dragon outside was the least of his worries now.
With one last glance at the chamber, he gathered the manuals, vials, and crystals, tucking them securely into his new spatial pouch.
For the first time since appearing here, he smiled — he'd always enjoyed reading, even as a kid. It didn't matter if it was a newspaper or a fantasy book, he'd read it. He hadn't originally planned to spend long in the cave, mostly just trying to find a path to a different exit, but how could he leave this cultivation heaven?
He looked down at the 'Cultivation Path of The Heavenly Demon' manuscript in front of him and opened it.
He was instantly dragged into a vision — something he hadn't expected.
A towering figure appeared before him, a presence so overwhelming it seemed to press against De-Reece's very soul. His face was shrouded in shadow, yet his long black hair, tied in an elegant Chinese bun, flowed like a dark river down his back. His robe was a masterpiece — black as midnight, with intricate gold and crimson embroidery forming swirling patterns of dragons and flames. The aura he exuded was not just power — it was absolute authority, a force of will that demanded submission.
His voice resonated through the void, deep and steady, carrying a weight of unshakable conviction. "I am the Heavenly Demon, Cheon Ma Sin Gun," he declared, each word a thunderclap in De-Reece's mind. "I was born a man, and I shall die a man — but the world saw fit to brand me a demon. Perhaps because I walked a path carved from dominance and strength, where mercy was a luxury, I could not afford."
He took a step forward, the hem of his robe trailing like a dark flame behind him. "Remember this — power does not bow to kindness. Pity is the chain that binds the weak. And yet..." his voice softened, just slightly, "I learned too late that those closest to you must be protected — not with words, but with unwavering might."
His gaze, though hidden, seemed to pierce De-Reece to his core. "The road ahead will break you if you let it. Perhaps your path will diverge from mine — perhaps not — but know this: to ascend in the brutal world of cultivation, there is no room for hesitation."
The Heavenly Demon extended a hand, and tendrils of dark energy coiled around his fingers. "You are too weak for me to pass down true power. For now, I shall grant you a movement technique — 'Phantom Shadow Steps.' It is a foundation, a beginning. Each step blends speed with unpredictability, allowing you to shift your weight and balance at impossible angles, creating the illusion of teleportation. With enough mastery, you will leave behind only a blur — an afterimage — while you close the distance to strike."
He let the energy dissipate, his voice once again firm. "Reach the Qi Refining stage, and the true path of the Heavenly Demon will open to you. When you find a follower worthy of your trust — one who would lay down their life without question — return to me through this manuscript, and I shall gift them power worthy of your name."
"These vials you discovered are not mere trinkets," his voice rumbled. "The clear ones — antidotes — will purge your body of poisons, a safeguard against treachery. The bone-cleansing marrow liquid, taken at the 3rd, 6th, and 9th node breaks during body refinement, will strip away the filth within your bones. Painful — but necessary."
He gestured subtly, and the brown and blue vials seemed to shimmer in De-Reece's memory. "The brown pills — body-tempering pills — are for after the body construction stage. They will fortify your muscles, tendons, and bones, reinforcing your mortal shell with spiritual energy something that is not normally done during the body tempering stage. And the blue-hazed vials hold healing elixirs — vital in emergencies, to mend wounds and fractures swiftly. Waste none of them — each represents struggle and sacrifice."
His hand hovered over an invisible hilt at his side. "There is a sword — one I wielded in my youth, a weapon forged in blood and struggle. It lies hidden within the cave you now stand in, sealed within a slot in the wall. Take it. It will serve you well on the first steps of your journey."
His final words echoed like a commandment. "Stand tall, young demon. The world will not suffer the weak, and the disciples of the Heavenly Demon will never allow you to disgrace this path. Be strong — or be forgotten.". He wore a magnanimous cultivator robe, black with gold and red embroidery.
He was instantly dragged back — but had he even left the room? Had any time even passed? He sat, confused, De-Reece's heart pounded — not from fear, but from something far more potent. Admiration. The Heavenly Demon, Cheon Ma Sin Gun, was everything he had envisioned a true cultivator to be — a figure of overwhelming strength, unyielding will, and relentless ambition. His words didn't break De-Reece's spirit; they ignited it.
This was no mere lecture — it was a gift. A glimpse into a path carved from dominance and sacrifice, one that resonated with the fire burning deep within De-Reece's core. The weight of the Heavenly Demon's presence didn't crush him; it lifted him.
When the vision faded, and the silent room returned, De-Reece found himself gripping the manuscript tightly, his knuckles whitening even though he had caramel skin. His mind buzzed with every word spoken, every lesson etched into his soul.
"I will not disgrace this path," he whispered to himself, a fierce smile tugging at his lips. "I will grow strong — not to beg for mercy, but to command it, that's the only way to protect those below you."
His gaze dropped to the newly-formed writing and diagrams on the manuscript's pages. The "Phantom Shadow Steps" — a foundation, a beginning. He welcomed the challenge, the struggle. This was the path he had been waiting for.
Phantom Shadow Steps was not a technique bound by mere footwork — it was a manifestation of control over Qi flow and spatial awareness. At its core, the technique relied on the cultivator's ability to synchronize their internal Qi circulation with their physical movements, blurring the line between reality and illusion.
The technique operated on three fundamental principles:
Qi Infusion and Flow:
The cultivator channels their Qi into their legs and meridians, not in a constant stream, but in controlled bursts. This sudden infusion of energy allows for short, explosive movements — abrupt shifts in direction that defy natural momentum. By alternating the flow of Qi between the Yin and Yang meridians of the lower body, the cultivator creates a disjointed rhythm, making their movements unpredictable to the naked eye.Afterimage Projection:
As Qi bursts through the leg meridians, it leaks ever so slightly into the surrounding air, disturbing the flow of spiritual energy in the environment. This "Qi residue" leaves a faint imprint — an afterimage — mimicking the cultivator's last position for a brief moment. To an opponent, it appears as if the cultivator has split into two forms: the lingering shadow and the real body.Weight Redistribution and Balance:
Unlike ordinary movement techniques, Phantom Shadow Steps requires the user to shift their weight at impossible angles, almost as if defying gravity. This is achieved by circulating Qi into the Baihui and Yongquan points — the apex of the head and the soles of the feet — creating a temporary stabilization of balance even in mid-step. A master of the technique can push off the ground with minimal contact, appearing to float or teleport short distances.
Stages of Mastery:
Initial Stage: The user can create a single, delayed afterimage, confusing slower opponents. Movements are still somewhat clumsy, and the Qi expenditure is high.Intermediate Stage: The cultivator learns to control their Qi flow more efficiently, allowing for multiple afterimages and smoother weight shifts, moving like a flickering shadow.Advanced Stage: With near-perfect Qi control, the user can layer their afterimages, making it seem like they move in opposite directions simultaneously. At this point, they can not only evade strikes but close distances with startling speed, striking from angles the opponent cannot predict.
In essence, Phantom Shadow Steps doesn't simply rely on speed — it distorts an enemy's perception, manipulating both Qi and space to create the illusion of being everywhere at once. True mastery lies not in how fast one moves, but in how seamlessly one merges Qi with motion, becoming a phantom in both body and spirit.
The cave was silent, save for the faint rustle of De-Reece's robes as he moved, he had decided to adopt the robes of the heavenly demon he had found in the spacial bag. The air felt heavy, dense with an unseen pressure — Qi, the lifeblood of cultivation. It was everywhere, flowing like an invisible current just beyond his grasp. He could feel it, but like trying to catch smoke with bare hands, it eluded him.
He stood at the center of the stone chamber, the 'Cultivation Path of The Heavenly Demon' manuscript open before him. Every word from the Heavenly Demon, Cheon Ma Sin Gun, still echoed in his mind:
"Qi does not merely live within you — it seeps into the world around you. To master the Phantom Shadow Steps, you must blur the line between your body and your surroundings."
De-Reece's heart burned with a strange mix of awe and determination. The Heavenly Demon was more than just a figure of power; he was the embodiment of strength tempered by loss. His words were etched into De-Reece's very soul, each one a reminder that to walk this path was to embrace dominance, but also to shoulder the weight of its consequences.
He clenched his fist. This was his first step on that path.
Drawing a slow breath, he gathered his Qi, guiding it from his dantian up to the only node he had opened so far — the Yangwei point in his shoulder. It was a mistake, he realized now. The Heavenly Demon had made it clear: the foundation of movement techniques lay in opening the leg meridians first, establishing a direct flow of Qi to the limbs responsible for speed and balance.
But De-Reece, in his impatience, had chosen the Yangwei point, seduced by the thought of powerful strikes and overwhelming force. Now, as he attempted to channel Qi into his legs, it faltered, leaking awkwardly from his shoulder, disrupting his balance.
His first attempt was a disaster.
He pushed off the ground, trying to execute the first form of Phantom Shadow Steps — a simple burst of speed meant to create the illusion of an afterimage. But the Qi, poorly directed, surged unevenly. His right shoulder flared with energy, throwing his momentum off. Instead of a seamless glide, his body jerked sideways, and he tumbled to the ground.
Pain flared through his arm, but it paled in comparison to the frustration bubbling inside him.
"If only I had opened a leg meridian first..." he muttered bitterly. "I was too eager."
But he couldn't stop now. He wouldn't.
The Heavenly Demon hadn't walked a path of hesitation. He hadn't wept over his mistakes — he had carved his way through them.
De-Reece gritted his teeth and rose to his feet, the pain in his shoulder a reminder of his arrogance. This wasn't about doing it perfectly; it was about moving forward, step by step.
He tried again.
This time, he focused on what little control he had. The Qi surged from his dantian to his shoulder, then bled down into his arm. It wasn't ideal, but he forced himself to adjust, using the momentum to swing his torso forward. His right foot shot out, awkwardly dragging his left behind it.
A blur.
Not a true afterimage, but a flicker — the faintest ripple in the air where he had just been.
It was clumsy. His shoulder pulled too much, his legs too little. He stumbled to a halt a few feet away, his breathing ragged.
But it was something.
He stared at the spot where the air still seemed to shimmer, however briefly. A crude imitation of what the Heavenly Demon had shown him, but an imitation nonetheless.
A fierce smile crept across De-Reece's face. "I will not disgrace this path."
He could already imagine it — a future where his steps would leave nothing but ghostly afterimages, where his enemies would strike at shadows while his true self closed in for the kill. The Heavenly Demon had said power did not bow to kindness. De-Reece would master these steps not for mercy, but for domination.
And though his shoulder burned and his Qi flow stuttered, his resolve remained steady.
This was only the beginning.
Three days passed.
The cave's silence had become a familiar companion, broken only by the steady rhythm of De-Reece's movements. Each day, he pushed himself harder, driven by the Heavenly Demon's words and his own gnawing regret at his hasty decision to open the Yangwei point first. It was a constant reminder of his impatience, a lesson carved into his very bones.
But he adapted.
Instead of cursing his mistake, De-Reece had spent hours refining his Qi control. He learned to guide the energy from his dantian up to his shoulder, then force it back down along the pathways of his torso, diverting it into his thighs. It wasn't perfect—the Qi still refused to flow freely into his legs, stopping short of his knees—but it was progress.
Today, as he gathered his Qi, the flow felt less erratic. His shoulder still burned with the excess energy, but he no longer let it throw him off balance. Channeling the Qi into his thighs, he pushed off the ground.
A ripple.
His form blurred, a brief shimmer in the air as he moved—not quite an afterimage, but no longer the clumsy stumbles of before. His steps were sharper, quicker, though still awkward. His legs didn't carry him as far as they should, the incomplete Qi flow limiting his speed, but the difference was undeniable.
He was faster.
Breathless, De-Reece stopped, his chest heaving but his lips curling into a fierce grin.
"Low mastery..." he whispered, almost in disbelief. It was rough and unrefined, but he had taken a step forward.
The Heavenly Demon's path was brutal and unforgiving. But De-Reece was learning that it wasn't about moving flawlessly—it was about never stopping.
Yet, his training hadn't been limited to movement alone.
After taking the antidote from one of the vials the Heavenly Demon had left behind, De-Reece turned his attention to the other tomes in his possession. One caught his eye: 'Formations and Arrays.'
He learned that formations were constructs tied to the natural attunement of the earth itself. They manipulated the flow of Qi in an area, bending nature's will to create barriers, traps, or enhancements. Arrays, on the other hand, were more artificial, man-made imitations of formations. They required physical objects—flags, talismans, or stones—to anchor the flow of Qi, forcing it to conform to the user's intent.
The logic behind them fascinated him. While he lacked the skill to deploy anything complex, De-Reece now understood how to identify basic formations and the telltale shimmer of an active array.
And then there was the alchemy book.
Buried within its pages, he discovered a method to extract poison from the blue amphibious creature he had sealed away in his pouch. The process was meticulous — a careful combination of drawing out the venom and refining it with herbs he'd scrounged from the cave's crevices. After hours of trial and error, he produced a poison potent enough to coat a blade.
Dark, oily, and faintly glowing, the concoction clung to the edge of his dagger, promising death with the lightest cut.
"A step forward in movement, a step forward in knowledge," De-Reece mused, watching the poison shimmer.
And with that, he prepared for the next attempt.
De-Reece moved like a shadow through the underbrush, his mind a storm of tactics and anticipation. Each step was careful, deliberate — a far cry from the clumsy stumbles of three days prior. He had not come this far just to fail.
Pushing aside a curtain of broad leaves, his gaze settled on the clearing ahead. The fruit still hung there — a golden beacon of power — and beneath it, the snake lay coiled like an obsidian statue, its scales rippling with a faint, dark sheen. Though its eyes remained closed, De-Reece knew better than to assume it was unaware. Predators like this never truly slept.
He crouched low, steadying his breath. His fingers brushed the hilt of his zombie knife, now coated in the poison he'd extracted from the blue amphibious creature. The venom clung to the blade in a dark, oily film — subtle yet deadly.
"I can't overpower it," he reminded himself. "But I don't have to."
The plan was simple in concept but perilous in execution.
First, he needed to bait the snake into striking. Snakes, especially ones like this, relied on explosive speed — a burst of muscle coiling and uncoiling like a drawn bowstring. If he could force it to strike first, its momentum would leave it momentarily vulnerable. The Heavenly Demon had often spoken of using an opponent's strength against them — even a fraction of that wisdom could tip the scales in De-Reece's favour. If it lunged, he could use what little mastery he had of the Phantom Shadow Steps to sidestep the attack — not with the seamless blur of a true master, but with the ragged flicker he'd managed to achieve through sheer will. It wouldn't be elegant, but it might be just enough.
Then, once the snake overextended, he'd strike its side — not aiming to kill but to wound. The poison would do the rest.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, gathering Qi from his dantian, feeling it rush up to his shoulder and forcing it back down into his thighs. The imbalance was maddening — like pouring a stream uphill — and the Yangwei point in his shoulder throbbed with unused energy. Regret gnawed at him. Opening the shoulder node first had been a mistake; he should have chosen one in his legs, a foundation for movement. Now, he was stuck trying to redirect a flow never meant to be rerouted — every step felt half-formed, every flicker of speed just shy of true mastery. from his dantian, feeling it rush up to his shoulder and forcing it back down into his thighs. It was an awkward flow, like trying to redirect a raging river through narrow canals, but he managed to circulate enough to prepare for a sudden burst of movement.
The snake shifted.
De-Reece's eyes snapped open.
He grabbed a small stone from the ground and, with a flick of his wrist, sent it sailing through the air. It struck a tree trunk a few paces to the snake's left with a sharp crack.
The snake's head whipped around instantly, its body uncoiling in a fluid ripple of muscle and scales. Its tongue flicked out, tasting the air, and its eyes — cold and unblinking — searched for the source of the disturbance.
Now.
De-Reece shot forward, channeling his unstable Qi into his thighs. His shoulder flared with unused energy, throwing him slightly off balance, but he adjusted mid-step. His form blurred — not a true afterimage, but a brief shimmer.
The snake reacted with terrifying speed. It lunged, its jaws parting wide enough to swallow his arm whole.
"Too fast!" De-Reece's mind screamed, but his body moved before fear could root him in place.
He twisted, his Phantom Shadow Steps faltering but pushing him just far enough to the side. He could feel the rush of air as the snake's fangs grazed the edge of his cloak.
"Sloppy — too much Qi in my shoulder again —"
Off-balance but determined, he drove his zombie knife forward, slicing a thin line across the snake's side.
The cut was shallow — too shallow.
"Not deep enough — damn it —"
But the poison was already at work. The dark oil clung to the serpent's scales, seeping into the wound.
The snake recoiled, hissing violently, its tail whipping out and knocking De-Reece backward. He hit the ground hard, skidding across the dirt. Pain flared through his ribs, but he forced himself to roll to his feet.
The serpent thrashed, its movements growing erratic. The poison was slowing it — not enough to kill, but enough to dull its deadly speed.
"This is my chance."
De-Reece surged forward again, his Qi straining through his unbalanced pathways. He forced it into his thighs — a crude mimicry of the true Phantom Shadow Steps — and darted to the side, creating a fleeting blur.
The snake struck, but too late.
He sidestepped, driving his zombie knife deep into the base of its skull. This time, the blade sank in fully, the venom spreading like a dark thread through the serpent's body.
The snake convulsed, its hiss trailing off into a weak rattle. Moments later, it lay still.
De-Reece didn't move for several heartbeats, his chest heaving. Victory — but at a cost. His Qi flow was chaotic, his shoulder still burned from the imbalance, and his ribs ached from the blow.
But he was alive.
He stepped past the snake's corpse, his gaze lifting to the glowing golden fruit. Carefully, he reached up, his fingers grazing its smooth surface. It pulsed faintly, as though alive.
With a firm twist, he plucked it from the branch.
Power — raw, unrefined — seemed to thrum within the fruit. The Heavenly Demon's words echoed in his mind once more.
"Strength must be earned, not gifted."
De-Reece clenched the fruit tightly. This was another step on his path — another tool in his arsenal.
He slipped the fruit into his pouch and began to retrace his path back to the cave he stopped. "Can't I cook and eat this snake?" he thought inwardly, only now remembering he hadn't remembered to eat much recently. "If it's a choice between either eats snakes or die in this weird world. I'm eating snakes". With that, he hoisted the snake's massive body up and into his spacial bag, now only realising how thick the snake actually was, a fact forgotten in the heat of battle. His steps were slower now, his body worn from the fight, but his resolve had only hardened.
By the time he returned to the cultivation cave, a storm of Qi raged within him — wild, untamed energy surging through where his dantian would be like a roiling sea. The moment the snake died, he had felt it — a sudden rush, as though the creature's life force had ignited a hidden spark within him. It wasn't just a trickle of power — it was an overwhelming flood, pressing against the fragile boundaries of his meridians.
He dropped to the ground the instant he entered the cave, his body trembling from the sheer intensity. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he forced the Qi down, channelling it away from his already overburdened shoulder and into his legs. The first node — buried deep within his right thigh — felt like a wall of iron. He pushed harder, gritting his teeth, the pain sharp and unforgiving, like molten steel carving through his flesh.
With a final, agonizing burst of will, the node cracked open, sending a shockwave of energy spiralling through his leg. The release was so intense his vision blurred, but there was no time to stop.
The second node — his left thigh — loomed before him, unyielding and cold. The excess Qi battered against it, wild and erratic. De-Reece growled under his breath, using every shred of focus to guide the chaotic flow. Minutes dragged into what felt like hours, his body screaming in protest, until at last — with a jolt that left him gasping — the second node shattered.
Qi poured through his newly opened pathways, flowing freely down both legs for the first time. The balance he'd lacked for days was still crude, but for once, the energy no longer felt trapped or misdirected.
Exhausted but triumphant, De-Reece leaned back against the cave wall, his breath coming in ragged bursts. He had done it — two leg nodes broken open. The next step on the path of the Heavenly Demon had been taken. the air felt heavier — as though the very walls recognized the shift within him. He placed the fruit beside the alchemy tools and the Formation and Arrays book.
Sitting cross-legged, De-Reece closed his eyes and began to steady his breath.
This was only the beginning.