The Nine Realms of the Celestial Ascent
In this world, the path to godhood is paved with blood and spirit, divided into nine tiers of power, each containing nine arduous stages:
* Qi Gathering Realm
* Foundation Establishment Realm
* Core Formation Realm
* Nascent Soul Realm
* Soul Transformation Realm
* Void Refinement Realm
* Body Integration Realm (Current Realm of the Mother)
* Tribulation Transcendence Realm
* The Emperor Realm
Chapter 1
The moonlight over the Jade-Ice Peaks did not fall; it bled. It hung heavy and silver, like liquid mercury, illuminating the silhouette of a woman whose beauty was a sin against the heavens. Bai Yuexia, once the pride of the Nine-Tailed Fox Clan, sat upon a jagged throne of frost. Her hair flowed like a river of starlight down her back, and her eyes, the color of crushed amethysts, were fixed upon the bundle of white fur nestled against her bosom.
For fifteen hundred years, she had carried this weight. For fifteen centuries, she had been a pariah, pregnant with a "freak" that refused to be born, fueled by a mystical fruit she had consumed in a moment of karmic destiny. The elders of the Nine-Tailed Clan, blinded by their rigid traditions and fearful of the strange, pulsing energy within her womb, had branded her a harlot and an omen of ruin. They had stripped her of her titles and cast her into the wilderness.
But Yuexia did not weep for her lost status. As she reached the 7th Realm: Body Integration, her spirit had merged with the laws of the world, yet her heart remained tethered to the tiny heartbeat within her.
Suddenly, a sharp, spiritual tremor shattered the silence. The sky rent asunder as the gestation finally ended. There was no human cry, but a soft, rhythmic pulsing of golden light. From the shroud of her silken robes emerged a small, snow-white fox cub. He had one tail—small and fluffy—but his eyes were not the clouded eyes of a beast. They were deep, lucid, and filled with an ancient, bewildered intelligence.
Where am I? Ren, the soul trapped within the fox, felt his consciousness swirl. On Earth, he had been a man of science; here, he was a ball of fur with a wet nose. He looked up and saw a face so radiant it made the sun seem like a dull ember.
"My soul... my life..." Yuexia whispered, her voice a melody of heartbreak and devotion. She pulled the cub to her bare chest, her warmth enveloping him.
Ren felt a wave of intense, overwhelming emotion hit him through a mental link he didn't understand. Thought Transfer. He could feel her exhaustion, her agonizing love, and a fierce, terrifying possessiveness.
Mother? he projected tentatively.
Yuexia stiffened, her amethyst eyes widening. A tear, crystallized by her Qi, rolled down her cheek. "You speak to me... my little Ren speaks to me."
But the tenderness was interrupted by a primal urge. Ren's tiny, fox body was a void of hunger. He felt a desperate need for sustenance—not meat, not herbs, but the essence of the woman holding him. His instinct took over; he nudged against her, his tiny paws kneading her porcelain skin.
A blush crept up Yuexia's neck. Though she was a powerful 7th Realm cultivator, the intimacy of the act sent a jolt through her. She guided him gently. As Ren began to drink the celestial milk—rich with fifteen hundred years of refined Qi—he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. I am a grown man in my head! This is... this is...
"Do not be shy, my treasure," Yuexia's voice echoed directly in his mind, dripping with a doting, almost manic sweetness. She felt his shame and found it adorable. "Your mother's body exists only to sustain you. For a hundred years, you shall feast upon me until your foundations are unshakable."
As she fed him, she looked toward the horizon. Her beauty was a curse; she knew the scent of her birth-giving would draw the vultures. Already, she could sense the ripples in the air—greedy cultivators from the Soul Transformation Realm and higher, sensing the birth of a miracle.
The struggle began that very night. Ren, despite his soul's age, had the bladder of a cub. He felt the humiliating urge and tried to scramble away, but Yuexia's grip was a silken vice.
"No, no," she cooed, sensing his distress. She took a cloth of spirit-silk and carefully wiped away his mess, her fingers lingering on his fur. She didn't find it disgusting; she looked at his waste as if it were gold, for it was a sign he was alive. Ren wanted to bury his head in his paws. Please, just let me do it behind a bush!
Never, her thought hissed back, tinged with a dark, yandere edge. You will never be out of my sight. You will never be touched by another. You are mine, Ren. The world tried to take you before you were born, but I will slaughter the world before they take a single hair from your tail.
The next morning, the "unnecessary troubles" arrived. Three elders from a neighboring sect, their eyes gleaming with lust and greed, descended on their flying swords.
"Bai Yuexia!" the leader bellowed, his gaze devouring her disheveled, ethereal form. "Hand over the Spirit-Fox cub and become my concubine, and perhaps I shall spare your life!"
Yuexia's expression didn't change, but the temperature dropped by forty degrees. She stood, Ren tucked securely in a sling against her chest, his little nose peeking out from her cleavage.
"You look at me with such filthy eyes," Yuexia whispered. She raised a hand, and the laws of the Body Integration Realm bent to her will. The space around the cultivators began to collapse. "And you dare to speak of my son as an object?"
With a flick of her wrist, the sky turned into a vacuum. The cultivators didn't even have time to scream before they were crushed into bloody mists. Ren watched, wide-eyed. He realized then that his mother was not just a doting parent—she was a goddess of slaughter.
"Now, Ren," she said, her voice returning to a sugary hum as she looked down at him. "While I hide us in the Shadow Valleys, I will teach you the first breath of the Qi Gathering Realm. You must grow strong, my love. For when you achieve your human form in 50 years, we have many heads to harvest."
Ren sighed through the mental link, leaning into her warmth. He had a long way to go, a lot of milk to drink, and a very protective, very terrifying mother to handle.
I understand, Mother, he projected.