Lin Feng woke before dawn, his body stiff but healed. The healing pill from Whispering Vale had done its work—his ribs no longer ached with each breath, and the bruises had faded to yellow shadows on his skin. He performed a series of stretches from the Fortress Foundation Scripture, feeling his muscles loosen and his spiritual energy flow more freely.
Yue was already awake, sitting alert by the door of the pagoda. She'd taken to her role as guardian seriously, and Lin Feng suspected she'd spent much of the night monitoring for threats even in the safety of the pocket dimension.
"Ready for today?" he asked her.
Always ready, came her confident response, though Lin Feng could sense a thread of curiosity beneath it. Yue didn't fully understand where they were going or what would happen, but she trusted him.
That trust felt heavy. Lin Feng was leading them both into danger, and unlike him, Yue couldn't choose to walk away. She was bound to him, her fate tied to his.
He pushed the thought aside. There was no room for doubt now.
After a simple breakfast of rice porridge purchased from the inn's kitchen, Lin Feng gathered his belongings. He left most of his valuables in the Spirit Gathering Pagoda—the grimoire, the formation disk, the majority of his spirit stones. He brought only what he'd need: his sword, a change of clothes, water, and the five hundred spirit stones for payment.
And Yue, of course.
The address Whisper had provided led him to the seediest part of Azure Peak City's lower district. Here, the buildings were older, shabbier, crowded closer together. The spiritual energy was thinner, contaminated by the press of too many mortals and low-level cultivators living in close quarters.
The streets were already busy despite the early hour. Mortal laborers heading to work in the upper city. Street vendors setting up their stalls. A few cultivators moving with purpose, their robes marking them as sect members on official business.
Lin Feng found the building—a rundown tavern called "The Broken Cup." Paint peeled from its walls, and the sign hung crooked. It looked like the kind of place desperate people went to forget their problems, not where one would find a renowned combat instructor.
But appearances could be deceiving in the cultivation world.
Lin Feng pushed open the door. Inside, the tavern was dim and mostly empty. A few early drinkers nursed their cups in corners. The bartender, a grizzled man with the look of a retired soldier, glanced up as Lin Feng entered.
"We're open, but breakfast won't be ready for another hour," the bartender said.
"I'm looking for Old Ghost," Lin Feng replied quietly.
The bartender's expression didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes. "Back door. Downstairs. If he kills you, don't haunt my establishment."
"I'll try not to."
Lin Feng made his way to the indicated door. Behind it, stairs descended into darkness. No lights, no formations providing illumination—just stone steps leading down into shadow.
Yue pressed close to his side as they descended. Lin Feng counted the steps—fifty, a hundred, two hundred. They were descending far deeper than the tavern's cellar should extend. A pocket dimension, then, similar to how the Shadow Market existed beneath The Floating Leaf.
The stairs finally opened into a barren wasteland.
The transition was jarring. One moment Lin Feng was on stone steps in darkness, the next he stood on cracked earth under a blood-red sky. The air smelled of ash and ozone. Heat radiated from the ground, making the air shimmer.
A figure materialized before him, appearing so suddenly that Lin Feng's hand went to his sword.
The man who appeared was old—ancient, even. Rail-thin, his skin like weathered leather stretched over bone. Scars covered every visible inch of his flesh, some old and faded, others looking fresher. His eyes were chips of black ice, empty of warmth or mercy.
But it was the spiritual pressure that made Lin Feng's knees want to buckle. This man was Foundation Establishment realm, at least. Possibly higher. The weight of his cultivation pressed down like a physical force.
Old Ghost.
The old man studied Lin Feng in silence for a long moment, his gaze sharp as a blade. Then those black eyes shifted to Yue, who was growling softly, her hackles raised.
"Qi Refining Third Layer," Old Ghost rasped, his voice like gravel being crushed underfoot. "Spirit beast companion. System bearer." His eyes narrowed. "Whisper's recommendation. And you carry the scent of Shen Wu's legacy."
Lin Feng's hand tightened on his sword. How much did this man know? How dangerous was it that he'd been identified so easily?
Old Ghost's lips curled in what might have been a smile. "Relax, boy. I can see your soul. The Myriad Fortress System leaves a mark—distinctive patterns in how your spiritual energy flows. I knew Shen Wu. Not well, but enough." He circled Lin Feng slowly, like a predator assessing prey. "He was almost good enough to kill me once. Almost."
"Will you train me?" Lin Feng asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"That depends." Old Ghost stopped in front of him. "Are you willing to die? Repeatedly? Painfully? Without knowing if the next death will be the one the resurrection formation can't fix?"
Lin Feng met those cold eyes. "Yes."
"Good answer. Most lie to themselves about their willingness to suffer. You at least sound like you mean it." Old Ghost extended a withered hand. "Five hundred spirit stones."
Lin Feng produced the payment. The stones vanished into Old Ghost's storage ring.
"Two weeks," Old Ghost said. "I'll teach you basic combat forms, spiritual sense techniques, and how to coordinate with your summons. I'll also kill you. Repeatedly. This pocket dimension has a resurrection formation—every time you die here, you'll revive at that marker." He pointed to a stone pillar about fifty yards away. "But you'll feel every bit of the pain. The formation can't eliminate that, only undo the physical damage."
He gestured, and the ground beneath Lin Feng's feet erupted.
Skeletal hands burst from the earth, dozens of them, clawing at his ankles. Lin Feng shouted in surprise and tried to jump back, but the hands were too fast. They grabbed his legs, his arms, pulling him down.
Yue lunged forward with a snarl, her jaws snapping through bone. Her ethereal form phased through some hands while biting others, buying Lin Feng precious seconds. He drew his sword and hacked wildly at the grasping fingers, spiritual energy flaring along the blade.
For a moment, he thought he might actually break free.
Then a blade kissed his throat from behind.
Cold steel. Sharp enough that Lin Feng felt a thin line of blood well up where it touched his skin.
"Dead," Old Ghost whispered in his ear. "Five seconds from initial attack to death. Pathetic."
The skeletal hands vanished. Old Ghost stepped back, lowering a sword that Lin Feng hadn't even seen him draw.
Lin Feng spun around, heart hammering, hand instinctively going to his throat. The cut was shallow—barely a scratch. But it had been placed with perfect precision. One more inch of pressure and his throat would have been opened.
"You panic," Old Ghost said, his tone clinical, detached. "You flail. You have no foundation, no proper technique, no killer instinct. Your wolf is better trained than you are, and she's operating purely on instinct." He crossed his arms. "The system gives you power, boy. Buildings and armies and grand strategic advantages. But power without skill is just a bright target painted on your back. You'll be dead within a month if I don't fix you."
Lin Feng forced himself to take a slow breath, pushing down the adrenaline. "Then teach me."
"Oh, I will." Old Ghost's smile was cruel. "Five hundred spirit stones buys you two weeks of my time. Most students quit after three deaths. The record is seventeen deaths before breaking. How many can you endure?"
Lin Feng looked at the old man's scarred face, at the wasteland around them, at the stone pillar that marked the resurrection point.
He thought about the Crimson Blade Sect. The Thousand Poison Valley. The enemies hunting him even now. The long, brutal path to immortality that stretched ahead.
"As many as it takes," he said quietly.
Old Ghost's expression didn't change, but something flickered in those black eyes. Approval, maybe. Or respect. "We'll see. Now, let's begin your first real lesson."
He gestured, and three figures materialized from the shimmering air. They were constructs—human-shaped but clearly not alive, their features too perfect, too identical. Each held a weapon: sword, spear, and axe.
"Lesson one," Old Ghost said. "Fighting multiple opponents. Your wolf can help, but she's not allowed to kill them—only distract. You must land the killing blows yourself." He paused. "These constructs are set to Qi Refining Third Layer, same as you. They're not particularly skilled, but they'll coordinate against you. Survive for five minutes and we'll move to the next exercise."
"And if I don't survive?"
"Then you'll resurrect and try again. And again. And again, until you either succeed or quit." Old Ghost's voice was pitiless. "Begin."
The constructs attacked.
Lin Feng barely got his sword up in time to block the first strike—a spear thrust aimed at his chest. The force of the blow sent him staggering backward, and he nearly tripped over his own feet.
The axe-wielder came from his left. Lin Feng tried to dodge, but his footwork was sloppy. The axe caught his shoulder, and pain exploded through him. Blood sprayed.
Yue darted in, snapping at the sword-wielder's legs. The construct stumbled, and Lin Feng took the opening to strike. His blade cut deep into the construct's side.
But he'd forgotten about the spear-wielder.
The spear punched through his back and out his chest.
Lin Feng looked down in shock at the spear point protruding from his sternum. There was no pain yet—his mind hadn't caught up to the damage. Then the agony hit, a white-hot spike of torment that drove every thought from his mind.
He tried to breathe and couldn't. Blood filled his lungs. His vision darkened at the edges.
The world went black.
Lin Feng gasped and lurched upright, his hand going to his chest. No wound. No blood. Just smooth, unbroken skin beneath his robe.
He was lying on the ground next to the stone pillar. The resurrection point.
[Death Count: 1][Cause: Spear through chest cavity][Lesson: Situational awareness—never focus on one opponent when fighting multiple enemies]
The system's clinical analysis felt almost mocking.
Old Ghost stood a few yards away, watching with those emotionless eyes. "First death. How do you feel?"
Lin Feng tried to answer, but his throat was tight. The phantom pain of the spear remained, his body remembering what his mind knew hadn't really happened. He'd died. Actually died. The spear had pierced his heart, collapsed his lungs, ended his life.
And now he was alive again, standing in the same wasteland under the same blood-red sky.
"I..." Lin Feng swallowed hard. "I feel like I was just killed by a spear."
"Good. That means the formation is working properly." Old Ghost's tone was matter-of-fact. "The pain is important. It's what makes the lesson stick. If death was painless, you wouldn't learn to avoid it." He gestured toward the training area. "Again. And this time, try not to forget about all three opponents while you're fighting one."
Lin Feng forced himself to stand. His legs shook. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to leave this place, to never experience that agony again.
But he'd paid five hundred spirit stones. More importantly, he'd promised himself he would do whatever it took to survive.
He walked back to the training area.
"Yue," he said, his voice steadier than he felt. "Same strategy. Distract, don't kill. I need to be aware of all three at once this time."
Understood, Yue's thought carried concern for him, but also determination. We learn. We survive.
The constructs attacked again.
This time, Lin Feng forced himself to keep track of all three opponents. When the spear-wielder thrust, he dodged and immediately checked the positions of the other two. The axe-wielder was circling to his right—he adjusted his stance to keep all three in his peripheral vision.
Yue harassed the sword-wielder, keeping it off-balance. Lin Feng engaged the spear-wielder, blocking its thrusts while staying mobile, never letting himself get pinned down.
He lasted almost two minutes before the axe caught him in the side, nearly cutting him in half.
The pain was indescribable. Lin Feng's scream echoed across the wasteland as he collapsed, his life bleeding out onto the cracked earth.
Death came as a mercy.
[Death Count: 2][Cause: Massive trauma to torso][Lesson: Mobility is survival—standing still makes you an easy target]
Lin Feng revived at the pillar, gasping, his hands clutching at his intact sides. The phantom pain was almost worse the second time, now that he knew what was coming.
Yue was there immediately, pressing her head against his chest, whining softly. Through their bond, he could feel her distress at seeing him die repeatedly.
"I'm okay," he told her, though his voice shook. "This is... this is part of training."
Old Ghost approached. "Two minutes. Better. You're learning." There was no praise in his voice, just clinical observation. "But you're still too reactive. You're responding to their attacks instead of dictating the flow of combat. Again."
The third attempt, Lin Feng tried to be more aggressive. He attacked the spear-wielder first, driving it back with a flurry of strikes. But in his aggression, he overextended. The sword-wielder's blade took his head off.
Death number three was mercifully quick.
[Death Count: 3][Cause: Decapitation][Lesson: Aggression without control is suicide]
The fourth attempt, he lasted three and a half minutes by playing defensively, using Yue's harassment to create openings. But he couldn't land a killing blow—his sword strikes lacked the power to punch through the constructs' defenses.
The spear found his heart again.
[Death Count: 4]
The fifth attempt, he managed to kill the sword-wielder by using Yue as bait—letting the construct overcommit to attacking her, then striking from its blind spot. But the victory left him exposed, and both remaining constructs struck simultaneously.
The axe split his skull while the spear pierced his kidney.
[Death Count: 5]
By the eighth death, Lin Feng had stopped screaming when he revived. The pain was still horrific, but he was learning to process it, to push through it.
By the twelfth death, he could stand without shaking.
By the fifteenth death, he killed two constructs before the third one got him.
And on the nineteenth attempt, he finally succeeded.
Lin Feng moved with purpose now, his footwork cleaner, his strikes more precise. He used Yue perfectly—not as a direct combatant but as a distraction, forcing the constructs to divide their attention. When the sword-wielder turned to snap at Yue, Lin Feng's blade took it in the throat. When the spear-wielder tried to catch him in a pincer with the axe-wielder, he rolled between them and came up striking, his sword finding the spear-wielder's heart.
The axe-wielder was alone now. It pressed forward aggressively, but Lin Feng had learned. He stayed mobile, circling, forcing it to chase him. When it overcommitted to a powerful downward chop, Lin Feng sidestepped and drove his sword up under its arm, finding the gap in its defenses.
The construct dissolved into motes of light.
Lin Feng stood in the center of the training ground, breathing hard, covered in sweat but uninjured. Alive.
[Training Scenario Complete: Multiple Opponent Combat - Basic][Deaths: 19][Time: 4 hours, 37 minutes][Assessment: Acceptable for first day. Student shows capacity to learn from failure.]
Old Ghost approached, his expression unreadable. "Nineteen deaths. Within expected range for day one." He produced a water skin and tossed it to Lin Feng. "Rest. Drink. You have ten minutes before the next exercise."
Lin Feng caught the water skin with trembling hands and drank deeply. His mouth was dry, his body exhausted despite the resurrection formation healing all physical damage. Mental fatigue was another matter entirely.
Yue pressed against his leg, seeking comfort as much as giving it. Through their bond, Lin Feng could feel her own exhaustion—maintaining solid form for hours of combat had drained her spiritual energy significantly.
"How did I do?" Lin Feng asked Old Ghost, needing to hear something—anything—beyond clinical assessment.
Old Ghost was silent for a moment. Then: "You didn't quit. Most do, after the first five deaths. The pain breaks them." He looked at Lin Feng with those cold eyes. "You have endurance. That's worth more than talent. Talent gives you a high ceiling. Endurance determines if you'll live long enough to reach it."
It wasn't quite praise, but coming from this scarred, terrifying old man, it felt like approval.
"Next exercise," Old Ghost said after Lin Feng's ten minutes were up. "Spiritual sense training. You need to learn to extend your awareness beyond line of sight. Cultivators who can't sense attacks coming from behind are cultivators who die young."
He gestured, and the wasteland transformed. Massive boulders erupted from the ground, creating a maze-like environment. Walls of stone cut off sight lines in every direction.
"I'll be hunting you," Old Ghost said simply. "You must survive for ten minutes using only your spiritual sense to track my position. Your wolf can help, but I'll be suppressing my spiritual signature—you'll need to learn to detect the subtle signs. The absence of ambient energy. The displacement of air. The killing intent that precedes a strike."
Lin Feng's eyes widened. "You're going to hunt me? At your cultivation level?"
"I'll limit myself to Foundation Establishment First Layer. Still far above you, but not instantly lethal." Old Ghost's smile was predatory. "And I'll give you a five-second head start. Run."
Lin Feng ran.
He dashed into the maze of boulders, Yue at his side, his heart already pounding. Five seconds wasn't much of a head start, and Foundation Establishment First Layer was still multiple major realms above his current power.
This was going to hurt.
Lin Feng extended his spiritual sense as far as he could, trying to detect Old Ghost's presence. The technique he'd learned from the Whispering Vale jade slips helped—he could feel the spiritual energy in the environment, sense the flow and eddies.
But Old Ghost had suppressed his signature completely. It was like the old man didn't exist.
Then Lin Feng felt it—the smallest disturbance in the ambient energy, like a ripple in still water. He threw himself to the side just as a sword blade carved through the space where his head had been.
Old Ghost stood there, his blade already returning to guard position. "Better. You're not completely blind." He vanished.
Lin Feng scrambled to his feet and ran again, his spiritual sense stretched to its limit. Yue was tracking too, her senses superior to his in some ways. Together, they might actually survive this.
There! Yue's warning came a split second before Old Ghost appeared from behind a boulder. Lin Feng dodged the strike aimed at his spine, rolled, and came up running.
He lasted three minutes before a sword took him in the back.
[Death Count: 20][Cause: Sword through spine][Lesson: Spiritual sense must be maintained constantly, not just when you think danger is near]
The training continued.
Hour after hour. Death after death. Each exercise designed to teach a specific lesson, each failure punished with pain and resurrection.
Old Ghost was merciless but not cruel. Every death had purpose. Every lesson built on the previous one. And slowly, painfully, Lin Feng began to improve.
His spiritual sense grew sharper. His combat forms became cleaner. His coordination with Yue evolved from chaotic to tactical. He learned to move efficiently, to conserve energy, to read an opponent's intentions from their stance and energy flow.
By the time Old Ghost finally called a halt, the blood-red sky had darkened to deep crimson. Lin Feng had died thirty-seven times.
Thirty-seven times he had experienced the agony of death. Thirty-seven times he had revived at the resurrection pillar, forced himself to stand, and continued training.
"First day complete," Old Ghost announced. "You may leave and return tomorrow at dawn. Or you may rest here for four hours and continue. Your choice."
Lin Feng wanted nothing more than to leave, to collapse in the safety of his inn room, to sleep without the fear of dying. But he also knew that every moment mattered. The Crimson Blade Sect was still hunting. The Thousand Poison Valley was still searching. He had two weeks to become competent enough to survive them.
"I'll stay," he said hoarsely.
Something that might have been respect flickered across Old Ghost's expression. "Stubborn. Good. There's a shelter over there." He pointed to a small structure that had appeared at some point during the training. "Food and water inside. Four hours. Then we continue."
Lin Feng stumbled to the shelter with Yue at his side. Inside was a simple sleeping mat, a basin of water, and some basic food—dried meat, rice, fruit. All mundane, nothing that would aid cultivation, but enough to sustain life.
He ate mechanically, his body demanding fuel even though his mind was numb with exhaustion. Yue ate too, her misty form solidifying enough to consume the spiritual energy from the food.
Then Lin Feng collapsed onto the sleeping mat.
He expected nightmares of death and pain. Instead, he fell into a dreamless sleep so deep it felt like falling into a black void.
Four hours later, Old Ghost's voice jerked him awake.
"Time to continue, boy. We're just getting started."
Lin Feng groaned and forced himself up.
Day one was over.
Thirteen more days to go.