The cavern was silent.
Not with the stillness of emptiness, but with the weighted hush of a place forgotten by time. Even the wind, which had screamed so fiercely in the gorge outside, dared not follow her in here. The moment Xue stumbled through the narrow crack in the rock, guided by nothing but instinct and desperation, the world behind her seemed to vanish.
Inside, the air was damp and heavy with metallic tang. Not the sharp scent of a fresh wound, but something older. Something saturated. Something sacred.
She shivered as she stood upright, her body soaked from the river and trembling from the cold, fear, and exhaustion. Her feet, bare and bruised, touched ground that felt strangely smooth beneath her—stone worn not by weather or use, but by some ancient flow.
The darkness felt different here. It did not feel empty, nor did it feel lifeless. She could feel something pulsing in the air, almost like a second heartbeat pressing close to her skin.
She moved forward slowly, one hand trailing the cave wall. Her fingers brushed moss, then something slick—too smooth for stone. A step further and her foot splashed.
She froze.
A pool. It was wide and still. Deeper than she expected.
She knelt beside it and dipped her hand in. It was warm. Almost unnaturally so. And thick. Viscous. Like oil.
No, this was certainly not oil.
This was blood. It explained perfectly the almost gag worthy smell of iron.
She stood there for a long moment, fear coiling in her gut. For there to have been so much blood, there should have been so many creatures that died right at this exact spot.
This could be a killing formation, she thought. Some ancient trap laid long ago to consume any foolish enough to enter. What if this is where others died? What if this is their blood?
The thought chilled her more than the air. The cave, this place—it didn't feel entirely safe. It felt... hungry.
Her breath came short. She turned to leave, stepping back from the edge of the pool.
And that was when it moved.
It surged forward like a living thing, coiling around her ankle and yanking her with terrible force. She screamed as she was dragged under, the thick liquid swallowing her whole in a single pull.
Then came the pain.
It began as a sharp sting on her skin, like needles piercing every inch of her flesh. Then the sting grew, blossomed into a furnace of agony that swept through her muscles, her bones, her very marrow.
She thrashed, but the blood held her fast, its warmth now a searing fire that crawled through her veins. It burned—not from heat, but from force, from power trying to wedge itself into a body that had never before held it.
Her skin bubbled and split in places, then reformed, smoother and stronger. Her muscles convulsed, torn apart and reforged with every agonizing second. It felt like being carved from the inside, as if invisible blades etched new patterns into her bones and sinew.
Her chest heaved. She tried to scream, but the blood filled her mouth, her nose, her ears. It didn't drown her—it invaded her.
Her meridians, long dormant and closed, were forced open. The spiritual energy in the blood was like molten iron, scalding every channel it touched. It scoured her insides, burning away weakness, fear, and limitation.
It was unbearable.
It tore through her, not with knives, but with invisible claws. Like something inside her was being broken apart and pieced back together.
She could not see the changes, but she felt them.
Let me die, she screamed in her mind once, at the peak of the pain. Let me go. I don't want this.
But the pool would not let her.
It held her fast. And deeper still, it worked.
It burns.
Like I'm being melted from the inside out.
She clenched her teeth, unable to scream. The blood wrapped around her like fire, seeping into every pore, every wound, every breath.
Is this what it takes to cultivate? Is this the first step on the path that so many walk with pride? Then let me walk it too.
A fresh wave of heat surged through her chest, and she nearly lost consciousness.
The first stage… Skin Tempering.
I can feel it — the surface of my body hardening, resisting the blood's touch even as it devours me. Every scratch from the mountain, every bruise from my fall... it's sealing over.
Her fingers curled, nails biting into her palm.
Then… Muscle Tempering.
My muscles feel like they're tearing themselves apart and knitting back stronger. I can feel strength blooming inside me like fire beneath my skin. My limbs are heavier — no, not heavier. Denser.
Her bones began to groan.
Bone Tempering.
Gods... it's as if the bones are melting. My skeleton, my very core… it's being reforged. If I survive this… I won't break like I used to.
A rush of pressure flooded her chest and stomach.
Blood Tempering.
My veins… I can feel them thickening. Faster, stronger. I hear my heartbeat in my ears, like thunder. My blood isn't mine anymore. It's something else — something stronger. More alive.
Suddenly, a burning spike of pain radiated deep within her limbs.
Marrow Tempering.
The core of my blood. That's where life begins — and ends. The marrow is screaming. But I won't stop. I won't die here. I won't let this gift go wasted.
Her breathing became shallow. The blood flooded her lungs like fire. She choked — and then, somehow, inhaled again.
Organ Tempering.
My lungs... my heart... they're burning, cleansing. The impurities, the weakness—they're being scoured clean. If I live, I'll never fall to sickness again.
The pain migrated to her arms and legs, to the tendons stretched taut under her skin.
Sinew Tempering.
My strength isn't in my muscles alone — it's in how I move, how I strike. I feel like I could coil and strike like a serpent. Leap like a beast.
Her mind flashed white as something snapped behind her eyes. And then everything became sharper — the blood around her, the pulse of the cavern, her own heartbeat.
Nerve Tempering.
My senses are coming alive. I can feel the air currents shifting, the heat of the pool against every inch of me. Even blind, I can sense more than I ever could before.
And then, the final pain — not just of body, but of spirit. Her core.
Meridian Tempering.
My spirit veins… I can feel them. They're expanding. The energy is coursing through them, as if they've waited my whole life to open.
There was a bright light in the blood. It appeared to be a core of some sort. Xue couldn't see it, couldn't feel it, until it floated to her and entered her mind. The light around the core was a powerful source of spiritual energy. Her body, which had never absorbed a trace of energy in its life, began to drink it in like parched earth in a rainstorm.
Lian Xue opened her mouth, drawing a long breath. Her heart thundered, but her body felt light. She felt incredibly strong.
She stood.
In what could be described as both moments and yet decades, she had ascended straight to the top of the Body Tempering Realm.
She could feel it too. She could feel the existence of spiritual energy around her. If she wanted to, she could probably push herself into the Qi Gathering Realm.
She decided against it though. Advancing too fast in cultivation could lead to an unstable foundation and lead to problems advancing in the future. She had already improved from being a normal mortal to being above all her siblings in cultivation. She was already a little worried by what trouble this might bring in the future.
She left her thoughts and worries and focused on her surroundings.
She still couldn't see around her, but she could feel there was dry ground. The entire pool of blood had been absorbed by her. Absorbed by her so much so, her ripped dress and hair were dry. The cuts and other wounds from her in the forest had all closed without a trace. Her skin shined like a newborn's. Her beauty was elevated even higher than before. The mere sight of her could probably cause onlookers to forget to breathe if the didn't have enough control of themselves.
She focused on what she could hear and, to her surprise, she could hear way more than someone at her stage should be able to. It was as if she were one with the world and anything it felt, she felt.
The wind in the trees outside the cave. The rustle of a bird far above. The distant trickle of the river she had fled.
She could even feel the heartbeat of something coming her way. She heard it lightly growl as it pawed at the gap she had entered to reach this place.
Her head snapped toward the cave mouth. She could hear its breathing now, closer than she had hoped. It seemed the Umbraclaw Lion had found her once again.
It seemed it had guessed she was in here. It most likely tracked her from the small blood trail she left here and there due to the scratches and cuts obtained by the plants.
Xue was surprised to find that she didn't seem scared of it anymore. Her mind was calm, her thoughts fast. At least, they were much faster than ever before.
As she focused on her mind and her thoughts, she saw it. Floating in her mind was a core of some kind. Written on it were words which she quickly read.
Serpent's Sutra.
What an ominous name. Did it come from a serpent? What would blood have to do with snakes?
Xue had lots of questions but of course no one could answer them for her.
She sat down in a lotus position and focused on it. The Sutra expanded, and she was able to see all of it clearly. It detailed many things for the Body Tempering Realm.
What she noticed was that, at the bottom, it seemed to fade. There was more to it. The Sutra was definitely far longer and detailed cultivation well beyond the first realm of cultivation. For some reason, though, it only allowed her to see the realm she was currently in. Maybe it would unlock more when she reached the next realm.
What made her a bit nervous was what it claimed the cultivator who practiced the Sutra could do. Those who followed its path, even just in the Body Tempering Realm, would be able to heal faster and become stronger than others at the same cultivation stage.
Why was this so? The Sutra refined the blood of others for the cultivator's benefit.
It was this exact part that gave her pause.
She had heard about orthodox and unorthodox methods of cultivation. Orthodox cultivators relied on pure means—spiritual energy or the use of pills made from heavenly treasures. They advanced as fast as their talent and their chosen methods would allow.
Unorthodox cultivators, on the other hand, relied on methods not so pure.
The dual cultivation technique that the young master of the Jin Clan supposedly used came to mind. It made one person suffer so that the other benefitted. There were other methods like it, too. Xue had never seen such things personally, but she knew there were cultivators who could harm others and gain strength from it.
This Sutra was one of those.
There were often drawbacks to cultivating through unorthodox methods. In fact, the very reason they were called unorthodox was because of those exact downsides. They were considered abnormal or evil for good reason. Wei, for instance, could probably sap too much of his partner's energy during dual cultivation and kill her. Other methods were known to cause madness.
That was why they were outlawed.
If he were ever found to be using a dual cultivation method, Wei would be hunted down and killed.
It would seem the future path was made for Xue.
The world would never pity her for being blind. There were no handouts in a world where the strong made the rules.
Additionally, and maybe it was just wishful thinking, but the cultivation method she had received did not mention any kind of downside. She had also never heard of a method so strong. With this, maybe there was a chance to escape her fate.
She would become the devil itself if it meant being able to control her own destiny.
Yes. No one will ever control me again. No one can tell me who I will marry. No one will look down on me. I will look down on them.
In truth, she was making any excuse she could to justify using an unorthodox method.
But she wasn't wrong. The world would never pity her.
And the method, being imprinted directly into her mind, was likely the easiest, if not the only way she could cultivate, given her blindness. After all, every scroll in the clan required the ability to read in order to practice.
She could never overcome that hurdle.
There wasn't much more time to think about it.
That stupid beast was almost inside.
Its behavior had been strange from the start. It had lingered outside the entire time Xue was within the cave. If it had truly wanted to, it could have come in at any point. Something had held it back.
Something had made it nervous.
Perhaps it was instinct—some primal warning that alerted it to the presence of the blood pool. Beasts, especially those that had begun their cultivation, were often more attuned to danger than even humans. The Umbraclaw Lion, a predator by nature, was no fool. If it hesitated, it was because some deep part of it whispered that this place was not safe.
Now the blood pool was gone.
With its disappearance, the scent—and likely the oppressive spiritual influence that once radiated from it—had waned. Whatever warning the room once gave was fading.
If I let it come in, I'll have the best shot at fighting it, she reasoned. The forest is its habitat, the trees its ally. Here in this confined space, it will have to face me head-on. Its speed and agility won't count for as much. Its movements will be limited.
At least, that's what Bai Mu always said. He used to talk about seeking every possible advantage in a fight. I hope he was right.
She needed every edge she could get. Even with her new cultivation, she still could not see.
She slid quietly along the wall, positioning herself in the far corner of the chamber. With a surprisingly calm heart, she crouched and waited.
The Umbraclaw did not make her wait long.
It crept into the chamber, its huge form brushing against the narrow rock opening as it squeezed through. Once inside, its movements were slow, deliberate. It sniffed constantly, its broad nose twitching with each breath, and its starry, starry violet eyes scanning the darkness.
It was still wary.
Its muscles were tense, shoulders raised, steps unnaturally cautious for a creature of its strength. Its tail flicked behind it, betraying its unease.
When it reached the center of the chamber, where the blood pool had once been, it lowered its head and sniffed deeply. The ground there still radiated residual energy, though faintly. The lion gave a low, rumbling growl, uncertain.
It was as if it could feel that a monster had once dwelled here.
Now that presence was gone.
Well, not entirely.
The smell was still here. The smell was behind it.
Like a cat that had its tail stepped on, the Umbraclaw jumped and spun around, eyes squinted as it growled while glaring at the corner of the room.
Toward her.
In response, Xue laughed softly before saying, "Oops, I guess I've been caught. Oh well."
A devilish smile bloomed on her face as she charged at the Umbraclaw. She didn't wait for it to move.
She should have been scared. There was a real chance of dying here, wasn't there?
In truth, she had been nervous. She had even been terrified before it walked in.
That was, until she saw it.
Yes, saw it.
For the first time in her life, Xue could perceive something in a way that went beyond sound or smell. It wasn't sight in the traditional sense—there were no outlines, no colors that she had ever been taught to name. There were no shadows or shapes in the way other people described them. What filled her mind was so much more vivid.
She could actually see the Umbraclaw's heart. She did not metaphorically see it. She could feel the pulsing throb of it in the center of its chest, glowing in her mind like a lantern. The veins and arteries lit up in a radiant network, weaving through its massive frame like flows of magma. Every pump of its heart sent energy coursing through its body, and she could track it—every movement, every shift in flow.
Each and every limb was painted in living warmth, as though the blood itself was light, illuminating the paths it took through muscle and bone.
She could tell exactly when the lion turned its head to sniff, how its tension flared when it stepped closer, and even how its tail curled from rising uncertainty.
It was beautiful. Terrifying, yes, but beautiful.
She finally saw a color. She could not name the color, but she found it beautiful. She would have never expected blood to have been so pretty.
She felt so excited for the first time. She felt like a baby being given a new toy.
That animal was not invisible to her.
It had nowhere to hide.
And in that moment, all fear faded.
Only a cruel thrill remained.
The Umbraclaw was not idle as she drew near. With a deafening snarl, it lunged at her—right paw extended, claws gleaming in the dim light as it aimed to rake across her chest.
Xue wasn't caught unaware, not completely. She heard the shift in its weight, the force gathering in its limbs. But knowing and reacting were not the same. The only thing holding her back was her lack of combat training. If she had the proper experience, she might have dodged the strike perfectly.
Instead, the claws grazed her side. A sharp sting flared as flesh split, and warm blood trickled down her ribs.
She grit her teeth against the pain and responded with a quick kick aimed at the beast's flank.
But the Umbraclaw, seasoned in the brutal language of battle, twisted its body and slipped away with feline grace.
For a moment, the two combatants stood still—each gauging the other, tension crackling in the air. The cave, once silent, was now filled with the sound of heavy breathing and the low growl reverberating from the Umbraclaw's throat.
Seconds passed. Or perhaps it was only one. Then the stalemate broke.
The Umbraclaw struck again—mirroring its previous maneuver, a lunging pounce followed by a savage right-clawed swipe.
"Fool me once…" Xue muttered, eyes narrowing.
This time, she didn't panic.
Instead of flinching or scrambling back, she leaned just out of range. The beast's claws hissed through the air, missing by inches. As its paws touched down, Xue lashed out with a low, whipping kick.
Her foot connected with the lion's snout in a solid crack.
The Umbraclaw howled, its shriek echoing through the cave as blood burst from its nose. It shook its head violently, disoriented by the unexpected blow.
Blinded by rage, it retaliated without pause.
It sprang again.
Xue had no time to evade. Instinctively, she raised her left arm in defense.
There was a sickening crunch. Her arm was caught in the lion's jaws.
She screamed.
White-hot pain shot up her body—but she didn't stop. Driven more by desperation than strategy, she did the unthinkable.
She surged forward, throwing herself onto its back, her injured arm still in its maw, her other wrapping tightly around the front of its neck.
In hindsight, it was the best decision she could have made.
Instead of biting through her arm, the beast began to thrash. It was no longer focused on crushing her limb—it wanted her off.
It bucked wildly, trying to throw her to the ground. It spun and reared, slammed into the cave wall. But she held on.
Her legs clamped around its sides, one arm lodged in its jaws, the other clawing to maintain her grip.
What followed was a brutal, frenzied struggle.
She scratched at its throat. She punched it between the shoulder blades. She chopped at its neck, slapped its muzzle, even bit into the coarse fur beneath its ear.
The lion howled again, spinning with reckless strength.
She refused to let go.
Blood ran down her arm. Her muscles screamed in protest. Her head was ringing from a blow against the wall—but still she endured.
Then, in one fluid motion, she raised her free hand and drove her fingers into one of its eyes.
A nasty wet pop followed by blood squirting through the air.
The Umbraclaw shrieked in agony, jaw finally loosening. Her arm, bloody and torn, slipped free.
Before it could react, she rammed her hand into the beast's remaining eye.
Another shriek tore through the cave, even more guttural than the last. The lion thrashed backward blindly.
Xue leapt from its back, hitting the ground hard and rolling to a stop.
She gasped, clutching her mangled arm, breath ragged and chest heaving. The pain was excruciating, but she forced herself to sit upright.
The Umbraclaw stumbled in a circle, blinded and bleeding, roaring with fury and fear.
As she stared at it, she noticed a tingling sensation in her mangled arm. As she watched, she had to gasp in shock.
The arm, badly bleeding, was repairing itself at a visible speed. She watched the blood in her body flowing to the area and clogging the wounds. The sight was simply spectacular.
What might take others of similar cultivation days to heal might take her, at most, an hour or two.
She stood up and began to walk to the demon beast.
The Umbraclaw stumbled, blinded and wild with rage, its massive paws swinging through the air, missing their mark by inches. Blood poured from both ruined eyes, mixing with the dark fur along its snout. Each breath came as a rasping growl, but its body, so proud, so powerful, was failing.
Xue stood across from it, panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her injured arm hung limp at her side, but her good hand curled into a tight, trembling fist.
She was covered in blood, both hers and the beast's, and her skin stung with open cuts. Her face was smeared crimson. Her eyes, however, though blind, burned with something primal. Her lips parted slowly, curling into a snarl.
"You tried to hunt me," she whispered, voice low and shaking. "You thought I was prey."
The Umbraclaw turned toward her voice, teeth bared, but it didn't charge.
It couldn't move.
Its limbs shook too much. Its balance faltered.
This was her moment.
With a sudden roar — a sound that surprised even her, she charged.
She slammed her shoulder into the beast's jaw, knocking its massive head sideways. Before it could recover, she leapt onto its chest and straddled its neck, gripping fistfuls of fur with one hand as the other drew back.
Then she punched it straight in the face.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The lion bucked, but weakly. Her knees dug into its ribs. Her good arm rained down blow after blow, her screams mingling with the wet, crunching sounds of flesh and bone breaking.
She did not stop.
She could not stop.
Blood sprayed with each hit. It sprayed across her arms, her face, her chest. Her knuckles split, skin tearing from the force, but still she pounded the beast's skull into the stone floor. Her breaths became gasps. Her gasps turned to sobs.
"NO ONE…"
Another blow landed.
"...WILL EVER…"
Yet another blow landed.
"...HUNT ME AGAIN!"
The final punch sank deep into the creature's crumpled face — bone shattered, teeth scattered across the floor, its skull a pulped ruin beneath her fist.
Then, silence.
Heavy, awful silence.
Lian Xue sat atop the corpse, arm trembling, breath wheezing in and out of her lungs. Blood coated her from head to toe. Her entire body ached — broken skin, bruised ribs, one arm likely fractured. She tasted iron on her lips.
But she was alive.
Not just alive.
She had been completely victorious.
She panted, her hand slowly sliding from the mess that had once been the Umbraclaw's face. She prepared to rise, but then stopped.
Something was happening.
The blood, thick, hot, and dark, began to stir beneath her. It flowed toward her skin in slow, deliberate streams, winding up her arms, slipping into her wounds. It was not like the blood pool from earlier. This was different. It was cruder. Wilder.
What it did was nothing short of miraculous.
Her cuts stopped bleeding.
The burning in her arm began to dull.
Her skin knit itself shut in a slow crawl of warmth and pressure. She gasped as strength returned to her limbs. It was not just recovery, but an increase. The essence of the beast, its physical power, its wild tenacity, its vitality, were all flowing into her.
Her blood devoured its blood.
Her body drank it in greedily, as if something within her had opened wide to feast.
Every inch of her throbbed with power. Her muscles swelled subtly. Her bones groaned, reshaping to something denser. Her broken arm cracked and straightened on its own. Her senses flared sharper, her breath drew deeper.
The sutra within her, the Serpent's Sutra, pulsed once, resonating as if releasing a satisfied sigh.
She rose slowly from the corpse, steam rising from her skin, the air around her humming faintly with heat and essence.
She had killed.
She had grown.
She stood tall and still, her blood-slicked figure illuminated by the soft light filtering in from the cave's mouth. Her body bore the evidence of battle, but it was whole again. She was stronger than before.
As she turned away from the ruin that was once a predator, she whispered with a steely tone filled with a murderous rage, "Let them try to force me to do anything now."
Then she walked from the cave.
A beast had entered the cave.
A devil walked out from it.