Nathan’s body lay broken at the base of the cliff, blood soaking into jagged stones, lingering between life and death, his breath shallow, his consciousness flickering like a candle in the wind.

  Beneath the rocks where he had fallen lay a relic buried deep in the earth: a crystalline marble, faintly pulsing with primordial light. For centuries, it had slumbered, waiting for a worthy master.

  Nathan’s blood seeped into the ground, touching the marble. And the moment his life essence brushed against it, the marble stirred. Its glow intensified, threads of luminous energy rising like mist to envelop his broken form. The mountain itself seemed to shudder as the light spread, mist curling thicker around the cliffside, while the pines whispered as though ancient spirits stirred within their bark.

  The marble’s power flowed into Nathan’s body, weaving through torn flesh and ruptured meridians. His channels, useless and broken, were not repaired but remade—radiant pathways carved anew by primordial light. The torrent coursed through him like molten rivers, searing channels into existence. His chest rose and fell in shallow rhythm, each breath guided not by will but by the marble’s inexorable pulse.

  For thirty nights Nathan lay hidden among the stones, suspended between agony and rebirth. Across those nights, seven trials unfolded: his shattered bones dissolved into dust, only to be reforged harder than iron. – His muscles tore and rewove themselves, fibers tempered by celestial fire. – His blood boiled, purged of weakness, until every drop carried the pulse of qi. – His skin shed like a serpent’s, replaced by a faint golden luster. – His marrow resonated with thunder, birthing vitality anew. – His organs strengthened, harmonizing with the flow of energy. – His spirit root awakened—an unclassified resonance, beyond the seven known types, which are as follows:

  Fire Root: Blazing and destructive, its cultivators wield flames that consume and purify.

  Water Root: Fluid and adaptive, granting mastery over healing, concealment, and endless endurance.

  Earth Root: Steadfast and immovable, its disciples embody resilience, defense, and unyielding strength.

  Wind Root: Swift and elusive, channeling speed, agility, and freedom across the skies.

  Metal Root: Sharp and unbreakable, forging bodies and blades into weapons of unmatched precision.

  Wood Root: Vital and nurturing, tied to growth, regeneration, and harmony with nature.

  Void Root: Rare and enigmatic, its cultivators command emptiness, illusions, and the unseen currents of existence.

  Each root carried seven grades, numbered from one to seven—the lower the number, the purer the quality, and the greater the destiny. Sect prodigies were often born with high?grade Fire or Metal roots, while ordinary disciples struggled with diluted Earth or Wood roots.

  But Nathan’s awakening was different. His spirit root pulsed with a resonance unlike any of the seven. It was not flame, nor water, nor void—it was something unclassified, a rhythm beyond mortal comprehension.

  His frame grew taller, lean yet defined. His eyes gleamed with a faint silver light. His hair turned silver?blonde, shimmering faintly beneath the moon. The marble, now embedded in his dantian, guided him to sit cross?legged upon the stones as the chaotic energy within his newly?forged meridians surged like a storm. Slowly, he drew a breath, guiding the qi inward.

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  The energy resisted, wild and untamed, but he persisted. Sweat beaded upon his brow. Then, with a final exhale, the qi settled, forming a faint spark within his core.

  Thus ended his body tempering. It was the first true step of cultivation: Qi Condensation, the first stage.

  On the Coloured Continent, there were six known realms of cultivation:

  Body Tempering: The reforging of flesh, bone, blood, and marrow. Without this stage, qi would tear a mortal apart. This realm has seven sub-realms. The required age to start and complete this realm is between 10 through to 23. For rare geniuses it begins as early as 5 to 15.

  Qi Condensation: In this realm, cultivators learn to sense qi, open their meridians, and gather energy into the dantian. It is divided into twelve sub?realms, each marking a deeper attunement to the flow of energy.

  Ordinary cultivators begin between the ages of 23 and 26, advancing through the middle stages by 27 to 29, and reaching the higher stages between 30 to 37. Rare geniuses may begin as early as 15 years old and complete the realm by 27. To achieve Qi Condensation is to step beyond mortality, extending one’s lifespan to two hundred and fifty years, far beyond the one hundred and thirty years granted to an ordinary mortal.

  Foundation Establishment: The third stage, where qi stabilizes into a solid base and the body, marrow, and spirit root are refined. Like Qi Condensation, it possesses twelve sub?realms.

  Ordinary cultivators progress through the early stages between 38 and 41, the middle stages by 42 to 47, and the higher stages by 48 to 55. Geniuses may reach this realm by 28. Achieving this stage extends one’s lifespan to five centuries and grants the cultivator centuries to deepen their practice.

  Core Formation: Beyond this lies Core Formation, a realm of seven sub?stages in which qi condenses into a crystalline core within the dantian. This is where power becomes tangible and enduring.

  Ordinary cultivators reach the early stages between 56 and 70, the middle stages by 71 to 90, and the final stages by 91 to 199. Those who survive the trials of this realm extend their lives to seven hundred and fifty years, their cores shining as proof of their mastery.

  Nascent Soul: The fifth stage, divided into four sub?realms from early to peak. Here, the cultivator’s soul manifests as a spiritual avatar, granting powers tied to the essence of their being.

  Ordinary disciples may reach this realm between 200 and 500 years of age, while sect prodigies may achieve it between 180 and 400. To endure the ordeal of Nascent Soul is to expand one’s lifespan to fifteen hundred years and to wield powers that transcend the flesh.

  Spirit Ascension: The final mortal stage, where qi, body, and soul harmonize into a singular whole. Cultivators at this level transcend ordinary limits and command natural laws themselves.

  Few ever reach this stage, for the expected age is not exact, but it must be achieved before the lifespan granted by Nascent Soul runs out. Only heaven?defying geniuses or those with unique spirit roots succeed. Spirit Ascension grants lifespans of five thousand years or more, and for some, it becomes limitless.

  Most disciples never pass Foundation Establishment, their lives spent in pursuit of a foundation that eludes them. Only a handful in each generation glimpse the heights of Spirit Ascension, and those few are remembered as legends, their names etched into the annals of cultivation history.

  Nathan sat in silence, the spark within his core flickering like a newborn flame. For the first time in his life, he felt qi respond to his will. It was faint, fragile, yet undeniable—a current flowing through his veins, a rhythm that belonged to him alone. The emptiness he had carried since childhood was gone, replaced by a fullness that threatened to overwhelm him.

  The marble’s glow had dimmed, but its presence lingered in his dantian, steady and watchful, as though it were a guardian bound to his fate. Nathan understood instinctively that this power was not ordinary. It was a gift, but also a burden. He would need to master it, conceal it, and grow it in secret.

  He flexed his fingers, marveling at the strength hidden in their grip. The jagged stones beneath him no longer felt like a grave but a foundation. His body was reborn, yet his heart carried scars. The sect believed him dead, discarded into silence. That ignorance was his advantage.

  A hush lingered across the cliffside, broken only by the faint rustle of pine needles and the distant cry of a night bird. The air itself seemed charged, heavy with unseen promise, as though the heavens had paused to witness the birth of something rare. Nathan’s breath steadied, and in that silence the weight of destiny pressed upon him, urging his spirit toward paths untrodden.

  Nathan rose, his silver-blonde hair catching the faint light. His eyes gleamed with silver fire. He whispered into the night, a vow carved into the marrow of his being:

  “I will rise. I will defy the world’s expectations. I will ascend.”