For several days, Feng Zikang had been confined to bed, yet he wasted no time; while nursing his wounds, he intently contemplated how to cultivate the Way of the Formless Celestial Demon within the mortal realm.

He was thirteen years old at this time, possessing an unremarkable appearance, though his physique was certainly robust. Despite his seemingly simple-minded state over the past few years, he had managed to practice considerable external arts, resulting in a good deal of brute strength.

The methods of demon cultivation were, in essence, the simplest of all: heaven, earth, and all creation could be bent to one's use. Through ceaseless plundering and devouring, power and cultivation level would continually expand. However, the vast emptiness beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens was cold and desolate; cultivating there, one might struggle for eons without making significant headway.

Things were vastly different in this mortal world. The ambient spiritual energy was abundant, replete with countless natural treasures, not to mention the potent elixirs found in the inner cores of demonic beasts and the vital embryos of cultivators—all excellent nourishment. If he could acquire these, perhaps in less than a century, he might ascend to the realm of the Great Celestial Demon.

Beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens, the Great Celestial Demons possessed the power of Unfettered Transformation, capable of annihilating heaven and earth with every gesture. Feng Zikang’s journey to the Thirty-Three Heavens and his incarnation as a demon had only recently occurred. Though he was one among countless Formless Celestial Demons, by the metrics of demonic cultivation, he was merely a nascent "Demon Seed," with an immense journey stretching before him to reach the Great Celestial Demon state.

Since he had stumbled into such heaven-defying fortune through transmigration and rebirth, the most crucial matter at hand was swiftly forming the Demonic Embryo, preparing the groundwork for forging his demonic body. Once his body was tempered into an indestructible Vajra form, he could roam this mortal world with complete freedom, and taking revenge would be as simple as raising a hand.

Although this was far from the first world where he had met an unjust end, and those hoodlums who treated him like ants were nowhere to be found, the hypocritical monks and the sinister Daoist priests were equally odious. Until he had extinguished them all, the hatred in his heart would never subside.

However, saying it was easy was one thing; mastering this art of demon refinement demanded an immense passage of time and could not be achieved overnight.

Until then, Feng Zikang absolutely had to be cautious and meticulous, ensuring his true identity remained concealed. After all, the Formless Celestial Demon was effectively the public enemy of the cultivation world. Having made one mistake, he certainly would not repeat the same error.

He had originally been a passionate youth whose life was extinguished by the cowardice and ingratitude of the world.

And after wasting away all his hatred in the chilling void beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens, wishing only for a chance to be reborn and live out his life peacefully, he was then indiscriminately slaughtered by those claiming to be of the Righteous Path.

Having endured the pain of perishing twice, he now trusted only in power. Until he secured the strength to guarantee his own survival, he would never again trust others lightly.

He maintained a pleasant facade, gratefully acknowledging his overly zealous Master’s kindness, while simultaneously gathering intelligence on this world of cultivation in secret.

“Your Martial Uncle Lu is the first cultivator in three centuries to attempt the Tribulation Ascension. Though he failed, it still proves that the valor and constant improvement of our Military School far surpasses other sects. Within a hundred years, the ascendancy of the Martial Way among the Nine Disciplines is unlikely to change...”

Ye Tiansheng, seeing his disciple regain his awareness, was eager to stuff common cultivation knowledge into his head like cramming. Feng Zikang’s eagerness to learn only delighted him further.

“Master, those esteemed Immortals who took action when Martial Uncle Lu faced his downfall that day—who were they?” Feng Zikang wound his way through the conversation, but this was the question he most desired to ask.

Ye Tiansheng’s expression dimmed. General Lu had entered the sect around the same time he had, and their friendship had been quite strong several centuries ago. However, soon after, the sect leader’s senior disciple’s cultivation advanced so swiftly and powerfully that the gap between him and Ye Tiansheng’s lazy, lagging level grew too wide, leading to a gradual drift apart. This time, General Lu’s failed Tribulation Ascension and subsequent Demise—possibly total annihilation of form and spirit—also left Ye Tiansheng feeling despondent.

“They are all venerable seniors at the Soul Transformation stage. I am ashamed to say I only recognize two of them. One is Master Yuan Yuan of the Prajna Zen Sect. He broke through to the Soul Transformation stage six hundred years ago, during the reign of Emperor Han Ming, after interpreting the White Horse Sutra and turning from Daoism to Buddhism. It is said the Master holds great compassion, and because he perceives a looming Great Calamity upon heaven and earth, he has delayed ascending through the Tribulation.”

Hypocrisy! Feng Zikang thought internally. Perhaps he fears the heavenly tribulation and dares not ascend?

“The other is an old friend of Martial Brother Lu, a relationship spanning centuries. Three hundred years ago, when Martial Brother Lu and I were just setting out, we shared a drink with him. He is the True Person Qian Yang of the Shu Mountain Sword Sect, wielding the Yao Guang and Long Wen swords—a contemporary master of renown...”

That withered old Daoist, the one whose chest was pierced by the sharp sword—Feng Zikang remembered him most clearly.

“As for the others, I do not know them...”

Ye Tiansheng felt a touch of embarrassment here. General Lu, through three centuries of diligent cultivation, had advanced from a mere Foundation Establishment disciple, breaking through three realms sequentially, eventually rising to become arguably the foremost figure of his age; whereas Ye Tiansheng himself was still only at the mid-stage Golden Core—a truly unflattering comparison.

Naturally, he was not qualified to know those old devils at the Soul Transformation stage.

Feng Zikang nodded; it didn't matter that his Master didn't know them. He had already firmly imprinted the appearance and characteristics of those few individuals in his mind. Since he knew two of them, he would eventually find ways to inquire about the rest.

Cultivation flourished mightily in this world. Buddhism, Daoism, Confucianism, Mohism, Legalism, Militarism, Yin-Yang, and Diplomatic schools—all lineages offered paths to liberation and ascension. However, the path to immortality was arduous; in hundreds of years, not a single person had successfully passed the Tribulation Ascension. High-level experts at the Soul Transformation stage were the absolute pinnacle of this era, often secluded, uninterested in worldly affairs.

When his own strength was sufficient, he would seek them out for retribution; he wasn't worried they could escape.

Below them, Nascent Soul experts were also few and far between, numbering only the sect masters and elders of a few supreme sects. Since General Lu’s failed Tribulation, the Dragon Tiger Mountain Military School had produced no other experts at the Nascent Soul level.

“The Golden Core stage is already considered the elite among cultivators; condensing the Golden Core is an incredibly difficult feat...”

Compared to the rarely seen Nascent Soul and Soul Transformation masters, cultivators at the Golden Core stage truly formed the backbone of the current cultivation world. Most sect leaders operated at this level, so Ye Tiansheng wasn't entirely exaggerating.

Young disciples, typically, were still oscillating between the Qi Induction and Foundation Establishment layers.

Qi Induction was the initial step onto the path of cultivation, while Foundation Establishment served as a crucial threshold. Only upon successfully establishing the foundation was one truly considered to have stepped onto the path of immortality. If one’s aptitude was insufficient, the Dao Foundation would fail to form, leaving them little more than a common mortal.

“Do not worry, my disciple. Although you are starting a few years behind those other disciples, your meridians are all clear, making you excellent material for the Dao. I will find some spiritual medicines for you; you might not lag behind others in establishing your foundation.”

Ye Tiansheng harbored deep affection for his only disciple. Feng Zikang displayed a look of gratitude, though internally, he remained unconcerned. As a Formless Celestial Demon incarnation, condensing a Demonic Embryo was far simpler; Foundation Establishment posed no obstacle for him.

Over several days, Feng Zikang was obedient and clever, showing none of his previous dullness. Ye Tiansheng was heartily pleased, and the master and disciple got along exceptionally well.

One day, Feng Zikang was able to get out of bed and walk. As Ye Tiansheng was boiling medicine in the bamboo hut, Feng Zikang came over to help fan the flames. Suddenly, he saw his Master’s eyebrows arch, and he smiled, “Someone has arrived!”

While Feng Zikang was feeling puzzled, he indeed heard the sound of swords whistling through the air from outside—the distinct sound of Military School disciples manipulating objects to fly.

The arrival landed outside the hut, calling out loudly, “Is Uncle-Master Ye present? Junior Martial Brother Miao Yuchun has arrived by order.”

Ye Tiansheng nodded and smiled, turning to Feng Zikang. “This is your Martial Brother Miao, a disciple under your Martial Uncle Jin on Red Stone Peak. He was very close to you when you were little. He will be overjoyed if he hears you’ve recovered!”

He turned and replied in a clear voice, “Yuchun, no need for ceremony. I am busy with the medicine and cannot step away; you may enter on your own.”

“Yes!”

Miao Yuchun acknowledged, stepped into the bamboo hut, and bowed respectfully to Ye Tiansheng beside the medicine furnace. His features were ordinary, with triangular eyes and high, sharp cheekbones, but his physique was imposing, carrying a certain majesty as he looked around.

Ye Tiansheng glanced at him, his eyes brightening, and he laughed, “Martial Brother Jin’s fine disciple! Already at the fourth layer of Qi Induction so quickly—your aptitude is excellent. It seems Foundation Establishment is within reach!”

“It is all thanks to Uncle-Master Ye’s guidance?”

Miao Yuchun seemed slightly self-satisfied. He glanced at Feng Zikang’s back as he tended the fire, then sighed softly, “If the foolish boy hadn’t met with misfortune, his current achievements would surely surpass mine.”

Ye Tiansheng laughed heartily, “Yuchun, I have confidence. My disciple will catch up to your progress within a few years. His mind cleared up after returning from the Seven Treasures Pagoda Mountain. I was planning to guide him in drawing Qi into his body in the next few days to officially begin his cultivation!”

“What? He’s recovered?”

Miao Yuchun paused mid-motion and blurted out the question. As soon as the words left his mouth, he seemed to strain to put on an expression of utter delight, but to Feng Zikang’s ears, the surprise was clearly greater than the joy.