Chapter Ten: The Miserable Old Man

Dragon Path. Seeing this cultivation method, Xiao Nuotian couldn’t help but smile. The elder really was thoughtful.

He glanced at the cave before him—it seemed a rather hidden place. Although his meridians were now fully formed and his talent was extraordinary, his strength was still insignificant. At best, he was at the seventh or eighth tier of the Mortal Entry Stage. Considering the circumstances outside, it was best not to venture out for now; otherwise, it would be a tragedy to be inexplicably killed.

Nuotian quickly made up his mind to remain here and cultivate the Dragon Path, to gain power before anything else. This method was created by a divine dragon among the Dragon Clan, fusing the essence of both the dragons and the humans of that era. Yet, no one had ever practiced it.

On this continent, cultivation methods were divided into Heaven, Earth, Profound, and Yellow, each with upper, middle, and lower grades, totaling nine levels. No matter the method, its grade was clear. The Dragon Path, however, was different. It emphasized that the most crucial aspect for the cultivator was themselves; only by awakening the greatest strength within could one truly cultivate—everything centered on the body.

While other methods, regardless of grade, stressed harmonizing with the opportunities of heaven and earth and breaking past one’s own limits, the Dragon Path was fundamentally different: one sought the Dao of Heaven, the other, the Dao of Self.

There was another requirement for this method: the practitioner must possess a body capable of communicating freely with the spiritual energy of the world, unbound by the will of heaven. Thus, cultivation would not be subject to the constraints of heaven.

Nuotian realized then that this method seemed tailor-made for him. He wasn’t sure how powerful it truly was, but he did not lose heart. At the very least, it came from Xiao Cangtian. Perhaps Xiao Cangtian had harbored ill intentions toward him at first, but in the end, everything had been for his sake. So, no matter what, he would not give up this cultivation method.

Following the method’s instructions, Xiao Nuotian quickly entered a state of cultivation. The spiritual energy of heaven and earth began to gather, much like with any ordinary cultivator, flowing into his body and coursing through his limbs.

Anyone observing would see nothing unusual; cultivators simply drew in the world’s energy—some actively, some passively.

After a week, as dictated by the method, Nuotian had formed a sea of qi within his dantian, enough strength to open it further. To open the dantian was to step through the true threshold of cultivation, allowing one to harness the surrounding spiritual energy at will.

The spiritual energy in his dantian grew denser, and with his meridians already unobstructed, gathering energy posed no difficulty for Nuotian. The energy within him grew ever stronger until, at last, the pressure reached a critical point, and his dantian suddenly expanded, growing broader and vaster.

For cultivators, using the energy of heaven and earth to open the dantian was a crucial step, one which determined their future potential. Even with a high-level method, an ordinary dantian would make it difficult to contend with advanced opponents. Conversely, those with outstanding innate talent could challenge higher realms even with ordinary methods.

This was why those with exceptional talent were so highly valued by the sects.

Once opened, the dantian’s capacity was fixed—this was the case for everyone. Unless one encountered extraordinary fortune, but such opportunities were rarer than once in ten thousand years.

Nuotian did not know exactly how his own dantian compared, but he trusted in his talent. Now that his dantian was open, he had broken through the Mortal Entry Stage and entered the Hero Stage.

Upon witnessing all this, Nuotian allowed himself a small sigh of relief. At least now he had some measure of strength. On this continent, the ordinary folk were as numerous as the hairs on an ox, but true cultivators were one in a million. It was common knowledge that the human race held dominance now—no longer the weak tribe of ancient times, but the true rulers of the continent.

Their vast numbers formed the foundation of the human race’s flourishing, but their intelligence bred endless internal strife, which in turn restricted their development. Perhaps this, too, was the restriction of heaven upon mankind.

Xiao Nuotian tidied himself up, though there was little to tidy. He had arrived with nothing, and now only wore a tattered outer robe, barely decent. With a wry smile, he simply wrapped it around his waist—he still had his sense of shame.

Leaving the cave, he found himself facing a scene of splendid palaces—pavilions and towers set in graceful order.

What kind of place had the elder brought him to? Nuotian couldn’t help but marvel; he truly felt like a hermit hidden in the midst of the world.

It seemed he was in a royal palace of the secular world. He quickly understood his situation.

Still, Nuotian resolved to slip away quietly. Secular kingdoms often had cultivators as protectors, relying on powerful sects for survival, while the sects depended on the kingdoms to gather promising talents and resources.

But Nuotian’s plan was thwarted. Just as he thought he could sneak away unnoticed, an old man in disheveled clothes, wine jug in hand, dashed his hopes.

He couldn’t sense any aura from the old man—yet this unremarkable figure was likely a master beyond reckoning.

The old man sat drunkenly in an inconspicuous corner near the cave entrance. When Nuotian emerged, he hadn’t noticed him at first, but now the old man opened bleary eyes to look at him.

“Xiao Nuotian greets the elder,” Nuotian said respectfully.

“Oh? Finally out, are you? I’ve been waiting here two years. Always had a feeling there was something odd about this place. Never expected it would be a young fellow inside,” the elder said calmly.

“Two years?” Nuotian was astonished.

“Yes, two years ago I passed by the White Dragon Dynasty and stopped here to rest. Noticed something strange about this rockery. Since I had nothing better to do, I decided to investigate. Never thought there’d really be something inside.”

Nuotian was shocked. For Xiao Cangtian, one of the continent’s top masters, to have set up this forbidden ground for him, yet this old man still noticed something amiss—the old man’s cultivation must be terrifying.

“I wonder what guidance the elder has for me. If not, I shall take my leave—I’m a bit hungry, and would like to find something to eat,” Nuotian said.

“You can leave, but first tell me: which sect do you belong to? Why have you been here for so long? And who set up that restriction for you? Such an extraordinary formation—truly remarkable,” the old man demanded, slightly stunned by Nuotian’s attempt to leave without a word after two years.

Faced with so many questions, Nuotian was momentarily at a loss. “I have neither sect nor master. In truth, I don’t know what happened. It feels as though I slept for a long time, and when I awoke, I found myself here.”

Upon hearing this, the old man’s figure vanished from where he sat, suddenly appearing before Nuotian. The strong smell of wine made Nuotian uncomfortable. The old man seized his hand, and a surge of true energy swept through his body, swiftly probing his condition.

“To think you are only thirteen, yet have already reached the Hero Stage, and possess such a vast dantian,” the old man exclaimed, utterly shocked. If this youth cultivated a top-tier method, he would be invincible among his peers, and could even challenge those of higher realms.

“You truly have no master?” the old man asked again.

“Senior, I truly have never had a master,” Nuotian replied. Though he had spent several years at the Sword Sovereign Sect, he had never learned any martial arts or cultivation methods there. Judging by the time since he’d left Spirit Fox Peak, he must have grown up; even his two beloved elder sisters might not recognize him now. In this land, he was completely without roots.

“In that case, why not take me as your master? That way, I won’t hold your two-year delay against you,” the old man said, wearing a look of great satisfaction.

“Take you as my master?” Xiao Nuotian was taken aback.

“What? Do you doubt my qualifications? I am an Elder of the Heaven Order, of the strongest sect in the Eastern Domain of the Wild God Continent,” the old man said proudly.

Nuotian didn’t know what the Heaven Order Elder was, but he did know that the foremost sect in the Eastern Domain possessed tremendous power, one of the few great sects that had not migrated to the Wild God Mountains.

With nearly a million disciples, his sisters had often told him that disciples from that sect were formidable adversaries wherever they went on the continent. Among their peers, they were all exceptional.

Seeing Nuotian’s astonished expression, the old man—Heavenly Fate—seemed quite pleased. “So, what do you say? I have only ever taken five disciples, each outstanding. To be accepted as my disciple is a rare fortune.”

Heavenly Fate did not say aloud that to accept a disciple with such a terrifying dantian was a once-in-ten-thousand-years blessing.

Seeing the sincerity in Heavenly Fate’s eyes, Nuotian realized that to reach the pinnacle of this world, he needed support. Joining a powerful sect was the best choice.

“Xiao Nuotian pays respects to Master!” For the first time, Nuotian knelt, performing the ceremony of taking a master.

At this, Heavenly Fate laughed heartily, hurrying to raise his beloved disciple. “Nuotian, get up quickly. Our sect doesn’t stand on so many ceremonies, and there’s no need for kowtowing.”

Nuotian rose at once. “I, Xiao Nuotian, do not bow lightly to anyone, much less kowtow. But the master-disciple ceremony must be done properly. Don’t expect me to do it again, old man, unless you’re dead.”

Heavenly Fate’s delighted expression stiffened at Nuotian’s words, and he ground his teeth. “You call me old man, and even wish me dead!”