The first dawn of that month began just like any other—soft sunlight sweeping across the mountain peak, thin dew clinging to the leaves. But for Zhu Tian, this day was not the start of an ordinary routine. It marked the beginning of a long journey toward a more tangible gate of cultivation.
Although he failed to enter the Qi path on the first night, he did not stop.
Days passed. Nights followed one another.
A full week went by, and the process remained the same: unbearable pain when spiritual energy entered his skin, the body's instinctive rejection, and failure repeating itself over and over.
Yet despite those failures—like an unmoving mountain—he felt something slowly changing.
On the third day, he could hold spiritual energy for fifteen seconds. On the fifth day, his body began to adapt. By the seventh day, the pain that once pierced straight to the bone had lessened slightly—as if his body had acknowledged the existence of spiritual energy, even if it still resisted it.
As the second week began, the changes became clearer.
During meditation, his skin was no longer like a solid wall rejecting spiritual energy. Like sand slowly accepting rain, his body began to absorb it more smoothly.
Of course, the pain was still there. His bones still felt as though they were being crushed. His muscles still felt as if they were being pulled from opposite sides.
But the pain changed in nature—from chaotic and overwhelming to something structured.
It was as if his body had begun developing its own language with spiritual energy.
---
By the middle of the month, on the sixteenth day, spiritual energy reached the area below his navel for the first time—the place known as the dantian.
However, instead of condensing and remaining there, the energy scattered and vanished, like mist with nowhere to gather.
Zhu Tian felt that emptiness clearly.
"You're close," he whispered to himself. "But I'm still not worthy."
His hands clenched.
He began to understand something important—that the first stage of Qi Condensation was not simply about drawing spiritual energy into the body.
It was about transforming the body into a vessel. A weak mortal body had to be reshaped into a container capable of holding power.
From that point on, his training shifted in focus.
He regulated his breathing more carefully. Stabilized the flow of spiritual energy. Managed the pain.
No longer merely enduring pain— but understanding it.
Pain, once an enemy, became a teacher.
---
Entering the third week, his physical condition was vastly different from the beginning of the month.
His skin became slightly tougher yet more flexible. His muscles felt like iron freshly forged—still hot from the hammer. His bone marrow felt as if it were filled with cold embers, an odd mixture of freezing and heat.
But the greatest change was in his dantian.
At first, it had been empty. Empty and without form.
Now… there was a faint echo. A small space that seemed to be laying its foundation.
On the twenty-first day, spiritual energy managed to gather in the dantian for a full two minutes—before scattering again.
But it was a sign.
A sign that the door was already half open.
When Zhu Tian awoke the next day, he felt different. No longer like an ordinary human. Not yet a true cultivator—but already standing in the gray area between the two.
---
As the end of the month approached, he was no longer someone merely forcing spiritual energy into his body.
He began to guide it.
Like a beginner musician starting to control the notes. Like a painter learning to control the brush.
Spiritual energy entered through his pores, flowed through his muscles, penetrated his bones, and gathered in his dantian—without exploding wildly as it once had.
On the twenty-ninth day… during night meditation… beneath a full moon hanging high in the sky…
The spiritual energy gathered in his dantian did not scatter.
Instead—
it hardened. formed a small core. condensed.
What was once mist became droplets. The droplets became a small lake. The small lake trembled. Pulsed.
Then—
DUUUM!
Zhu Tian's body shook violently.
His heart thundered. His breath stopped for an instant.
Pain? Yes. It was still there. But it had changed.
No longer like countless needles piercing him, but like a hammer smashing stone—shattering old limits so a new body could be born.
He ground his teeth. Endured the pain. Refused to yield.
Spiritual energy continued to accumulate. To solidify. To form a foundation.
And finally—
CRACK!
A subtle sound echoed within his consciousness.
Not a real sound. But an inner one.
Like glass breaking. Yet not destruction— but release.
The once-empty dantian now held a massive core—its size akin to an independent world.
The size of this core was abnormal, but Zhu Tian was unaware of it. Normally, when a cultivator entered the early stage of Qi Condensation, their core was small—no larger than a lake.
Yet Zhu Tian's core was stable.
Spiritual energy revolved gently around it.
His skin emitted a faint glow. His muscles felt warm. His pulse beat steadily.
And for the first time since arriving in this world—
Zhu Tian had broken through—
Early Qi Condensation — Low Stage.
---
He slowly opened his eyes.
The world before him felt different. Clearer. Sharper.
The wind brushing against his skin carried a new sensation—as if he could feel the very particles of air.
He stood.
His body felt lighter. Stronger. More alive.
But that was not what made him smile.
What made him smile was—
this was only the beginning.
The lowest stage of Qi Condensation.
Yet also the first step toward immortality.
The first step against mortal lifespan.
The first step toward challenging the heavens.
He clenched his fist.
"After one month…"
His low voice echoed softly.
"I've finally entered."
But he knew.
This was not an achievement.
This was only the beginning.
And this small beginning…
would become the foundation of a long journey—crossing worlds, shattering fate, and reaching the peak.
He looked up at the night sky.
And whispered—
"Now… let's see how far I can go."
Unbeknownst to him, the moment Zhu Tian successfully broke into the early stage of Qi Condensation, something he had never imagined occurred.
Above his residence, the sky suddenly changed. A majestic heavenly phenomenon appeared. A fiery phoenix soared across the heavens, its feathers blazing like the purity of the sun. Beside it, a colossal dragon rose into the sky, its golden scales reflecting the light of heaven. Behind them, silhouettes of other ancient beasts emerged—Eternal Tiger, Primordial Tortoise, Kirin, Roc, and even mythical figures recorded only in ancient legends.
It was as if the heavens were celebrating the birth of a son of heaven.
Yet in truth, Zhu Tian was no son of heaven. He was merely an ordinary human—an outsider with no heavenly destiny or blessing.
And yet, the phenomenon covered the sky with undeniable grandeur.
Inside a cave hidden behind a waterfall, Qin Yuan's eyes flew open in shock. He immediately ended his meditation and rushed through the curtain of water to witness the scene. Spiritual energy inside the cave trembled violently, as if warning him that something extraordinary was happening.
Earlier, during meditation, Qin Yuan had already sensed a surge of energy. But seeing this heavenly phenomenon with his own eyes left him stunned.
"The birth of a ruler?" Qin Yuan murmured, his voice filled with disbelief.
In history, such heavenly phenomena appeared only when a sovereign existence—an immense being—was born or broke through an extraordinary cultivation realm. These were figures destined to change the world, influence the fate of all beings, and stand at the pinnacle of power. Such events were exceedingly rare. Even over tens of thousands of years, they could be counted on one hand.
Qin Yuan's clone guarding the gate also felt the disturbance. The spiritual aura around him surged abruptly, causing his hair to flutter despite the absence of wind.
Far away, high-level entities across the world began to open their eyes. They sensed the fluctuation of this power—though faintly.
"Interesting," a voice said from the darkness. Calm, yet carrying a trace of rare curiosity.
Two Taoist-robed men who had been flying through the air came to a halt. They exchanged looks filled with shock.
Strangely, the phenomenon lasted only a brief moment—less than a minute. In the blink of an eye, the light dimmed and vanished, as if it had never existed. Even more oddly, the phenomenon seemed to be concealed by something.
Within a certain radius, no one could see it. As if a force had sealed it away, hiding it from the world.
"Strange…" Qin Yuan said, narrowing his eyes.
He tried to analyze it. But the more he thought, the more he realized the phenomenon could not be explained by ordinary knowledge.
Recalling the figure he had glimpsed when attempting to probe Zhu Tian's memories before… a chill crept up his spine. Qin Yuan clenched his teeth, swallowing the fear he could not control.
Elsewhere—within an unknown space, perhaps between dimensions or at the peak of the heavens—an entity raised a finger, attempting to trace the location of the heavenly phenomenon.
After several attempts, it fell silent.
"Strange… I can't find its location," the entity muttered, confusion mixed with suspicion.
A heavenly phenomenon that could not be traced? That should have been impossible.
In the end, Qin Yuan let out a soft sigh and returned to the cave, choosing to pretend he had seen nothing. For a high-level cultivator, not everything that appeared was worth interfering with.
In his mind, there was a strong possibility that Zhu Tian was the reincarnation of the being he had seen while probing the youth's memories. If that were true… it was far too dangerous to reveal lightly.
Morning arrived. Sunlight once again illuminated the mountain peak.
Throughout that night of extraordinary phenomena, Zhu Tian knew nothing of it.
He was focused solely on stabilizing the spiritual energy within his body—the very first task a cultivator must complete after entering Qi Condensation.