The Path to Power

Xing Wuye sat in the cave, his breath steady and his body still. The aftermath of the Akashic Record's revelation left him in a strange state of clarity, as if the veil of ignorance had been pulled away just enough for him to glimpse the path ahead. He thought back to the images, the knowledge that had flooded into his mind. The structure of the Qi Condensation realm had unraveled before him like a long-forgotten map, showing him the way forward.

"So," he thought to himself, "Qi Condensation isn't as simple as I once believed."

He considered the three stages of Qi Condensation, now laid bare before him. He was currently in the first minor realm, Meridian Awakening, which involved opening the twelve main meridians that governed the flow of Qi throughout the body. He had already opened some of these meridians upon reaching Qi Condensation, but there were more to unlock, and the process was delicate.

"The second stage... Gathering Stage," he mused, "requires one to gather Qi into the twelve meridians, but it can't be done recklessly."

That was where he had almost made a fatal mistake. He had tried to gather Qi without a clear understanding of the intricate patterns required. The flow of Qi couldn't simply be dumped into the meridians; it had to follow precise routes, patterns that ensured balance and harmony in the body. Otherwise, the result could be disastrous—overloading the meridians and potentially killing the cultivator.

He shuddered as he remembered the moment his veins had bulged, and his body had nearly ruptured from the inside. He had been too eager, too blinded by the prospect of power. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

"The third stage is Condensation Stage," he recalled, "where the twelve meridians are refined and turned into mini cores that can store Qi."

At that point, he would be able to wield Qi far more effectively, his body acting as a vessel for immense energy. His understanding of Qi Condensation had deepened significantly, and though he still lacked formal guidance, the Akashic Record had provided him with enough to move forward—carefully.

But there was more. His thoughts drifted to the knowledge he had gained about beasts.

Beasts, like Daoists, also used energy to strengthen themselves, but their energy was different. It was called Ergo, and while it shared similarities with Qi, it was refined differently in the bodies of beasts. Ergo was more primal, more wild, and when a beast refined its body enough to reach a certain threshold, it became a Demonic Beast. These were beasts that had surpassed their natural limitations and could wield terrifying physical strength.

And then there were Ergomancers—beasts that had not only refined their bodies but had also learned to wield Ergo like a Qi Condensation cultivator wielded Qi. These creatures were far more dangerous, capable of using the primal energy within them to unleash devastating attacks. The beast he had fought earlier was likely an Ergomancer, its power equivalent to his own stage of Qi Condensation.

"This world..." he muttered, "is much more complex than I imagined."

His eyes flickered as he thought about the Akashic Record itself. It was ancient, containing knowledge that had been passed down through countless generations. But even with its vast repository of information, he wondered whether the world had changed since the record had last updated itself, if even possible. The map it had shown him of the ancient inheritance locations was incomplete, hinting at a much larger world beyond what he had known.

"Does the Akashic Record update itself?" he asked himself quietly. "Or is it showing me a version of the world from a time long past?"

If the world had changed, then some of the information he had received might be outdated. Cultivation techniques might have evolved, territories could have shifted, and powerful figures or organizations that once ruled could now be dust. He would need to be cautious, using the Akashic Record as a guide but not relying on it blindly.

His mind began to wander toward the question of power again. The men who had destroyed his sect, the beasts that roamed the lands, and the ancient inheritances buried in the earth—everything came back to strength. Power was the only thing that mattered in this world. Without it, he was just as helpless as he had been during the Great Tragedy, he thought to himself how nice it would be if he could dictate his own fate and what true power and invincibility would actually feel like! Alas its all a fantasy.

He made a deep sigh and clenched his fists, his resolve hardening.

"I need power," he whispered to himself. "No matter the cost."

With that thought, he closed his eyes and entered a state of meditation. The energy from the minerals around him was still thick in the air, providing him with a near-perfect environment to cultivate. He focused on his meridians, carefully guiding the Qi into his body, this time following the patterns that the Akashic Record had revealed to him. The process was slow, methodical, but steady.

Time passed, and after what felt like hours, he finally opened his eyes. He had managed to stabilize his cultivation at his current stage, but the journey ahead would be long and perilous.

"I've done all I can here," he muttered, standing up and stretching his stiff limbs. "It's time to return to the city and gather information."

The incomplete map from the Akashic Record had shown him the general direction of the ancient inheritance, but it wasn't enough. He needed a proper map of the region, a better understanding of the terrain and the forces that might stand in his way. With that thought in mind, he turned and made his way out of the cave.

The sun was beginning to set as Xing Wuye descended the mountain. The air was crisp, and the world around him was bathed in the golden hues of dusk. His body moved with newfound grace, the effects of his recent cultivation sharpening his senses and reflexes. He felt stronger, more attuned to the world around him. Every step he took seemed to resonate with the earth beneath his feet, and the distant sounds of nature filled his ears.

As he walked, he thought about the city he had just left. The memory of the atrocities he had witnessed still lingered in his mind, but it no longer stirred the same emotions. Where once he might have felt pity or anger, there was now only cold indifference. The weak would always suffer in a world like this, and there was nothing he could do to change that—nor did he care to anymore. Power was what mattered, and he would seek it without hesitation.

By the time he reached the outskirts of the city he had planned to reach was further north of the of the other, the sky had darkened, and the streets were lit by flickering lanterns. The city bustled with activity, despite the late hour, and Xing Wuye moved through the crowds with purpose. His eyes scanned the faces of the people around him—merchants, travelers, beggars, and Daoists alike—but none of them held his interest. He had one goal: to find a map of the region.

After wandering for a while, he found himself outside a small shop nestled in an alleyway. The sign above the door read, "Cartographer's Delight." It seemed unassuming, but the faint pulse of Qi emanating from within caught his attention. Wuye pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The shop was cluttered with maps, scrolls, and various instruments used for charting the land. An old man sat behind the counter, his head bowed as he scribbled something on a parchment. He glanced up as Wuye entered, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"What can I do for you, young Daoist?" the old man asked, his voice gravelly.

Wuye's eyes widen in shock for a bit but he quickly calms down, "I need a map of the surrounding region," Wuye replied, his tone firm. "Specifically, one that covers the northern territories."

The old man raised an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful. "The northern territories, you say? Not many venture that far. Dangerous lands up there. Are you sure you want to go?"

Wuye didn't respond immediately, his gaze unwavering. The old man sighed and stood up, shuffling over to a shelf at the back of the shop. He pulled out a rolled-up map and handed it to Wuye.

"This is the best I have," the old man said. "It covers most of the northern region, but there are places no one has charted. You'll have to be careful."

Wuye took the map and nodded. "Thank you." He dropped some coins he had picked up from the corpses of people who had offended him.

He left the shop without another word, the map tucked safely in his robe. As he stepped out into the night, a sense of anticipation filled him. The road ahead was uncertain, but now, with a clearer understanding of Qi Condensation and a map in hand, he was ready to begin heading north.