Chapter 97: Giving Out Rewards.

  Two Days Later.

  On the bulletin board of the sect, there was a list of the Top 50 Best Performers. A huge crowd had gathered around it. Some clicked their tongues in annoyance when they saw someone’s name—someone they had recently looked down upon—while others rejoiced.

  I was cultivating inside my room early in the morning. It was said that Spiritual Energy was most abundant during this time. But from what I could see, except for a little peace and silence, the Spiritual Energy in the morning air was almost the same. Sometimes, it was even less in the morning.

  Inhale—

  Exhale—

  I breathed in and out, my lungs expanding and contracting as air entered and exited my body, leaving behind a residue of Spiritual Energy mixed into the air within my dantian.

  Breaking through to the next realm wasn’t actually that difficult, but doing so often left behind many terminal illnesses—illnesses just waiting to erupt in the future. That’s also why techniques like the Drifting Dragon Roar method were used: to circulate Qi into several cycles. I didn’t know exactly how this raw Qi was converted into a purer form by completing cycles.

  Qi—or Spiritual Energy—was the most mysterious thing in existence. Even greater than the Great Dao (according to me). No one knew where Qi came from. The ancient people, unable to name its origin, finally said Qi came from some place called Heaven. And till now, that has been believed (again, according to me).

  Everyone has their own thoughts and beliefs.

  A breath of turbid Qi escaped my lips. I really liked cultivating. Many things I would never have thought about—or had thought about but never truly explored—would come to me during these moments of meditation.

  At times like these, asking senior cultivators was the best option. I might even be able to break through to the sixth level of Qi Condensation if I could get answers to these questions.

  We all know "Qi" refers to the life energy flowing through the body and the world. It’s the fundamental force cultivators refine to strengthen their body, mind, and spirit.

  But the term “Condensation” isn’t just a fancy word—it has a literal and symbolic meaning in cultivation.

  Imagine the atmosphere: when vapor gathers and condenses into water droplets, it becomes more tangible, dense, and concentrated.

  The same concept applies to Qi.

  “Condensation” refers to the process of refining the raw, ambient Qi (scattered like mist) into denser, purer, more usable energy stored within the cultivator's dantian (core energy center).

  They called it Qi Condensation, but the name barely scratched the surface. Qi was everywhere—floating like mist, whispering through the trees, hiding in the breath of beasts. But condensation… that was the real trial. Drawing it in was easy. But shaping it? Controlling it? That was like trying to clench fog into a blade. Only when that mist thickened, slowly pooling in my dantian, did I realize what it meant to truly condense Qi—not just to hold power, but to compress it until it became a part of me.

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  That was why when Xue Lingxi had utilized Qi to form a Condensed Qi Weapon while still only at the peak of Qi Condensation, it caused a sensation—a chill spreading throughout the colosseum walls. Her securing the first place in the tournament was guaranteed. Only once comprehension had broken through to the Foundation Building stage—or, to be more precise, something called mental strength—could something like what Xue Lingxi achieved be done. And such talent… I don’t think anyone within the sect would’ve been able to pull it off.

  If not for the Reborn person known as Xue Lingxi.

  “Master!” Shadow Sentinel appeared within the room. I wasn’t surprised—I had told him to visit me after I was done cultivating.

  “Now, tell me… where were you when I went outside the sect? Because if I remember correctly, Ancestor had sent you to protect me, right?” I questioned my so-called protector, who had been nowhere to be seen when I needed him and was in danger of being killed—if I hadn’t had the strength to fight across sub-realms.

  “Sorry, Master. The Ancestor had called me to handle a task that required me to leave the sect. And coincidentally, Master, you went out on a mission that very day.”

  Shadow Sentinel, in his usual pitch-black clothing like some ghost, with a black mask covering half his face and his blackish Combat Claws, emanated an eerie aura. His very presence could dull the moods of people around him.

  “There’s this thing called leaving a note. If I had known you weren’t in the sect, I would’ve stayed put, biding my time. When you returned, then I could’ve taken a mission,” I said in a bland tone, not with much emotion. What use was there in crying over spilled milk? It’s not like I could go back in time…

  …Well, some can. But I don’t think they’d answer me if I asked them.

  “Sorry, Master.” Shadow Sentinel bowed his head, no longer arguing with his master.

  “I too apologize,” I said with a frown as I massaged the space between my eyebrows. “It seems like I’ve been tense since that incident.”

  “Incident?! Did something happen, Master, while I was away?” Shadow Sentinel’s ears perked up when I mentioned the word incident.

  “Oh? I forgot you don’t know what happened when I went on that mission, do you?” I then told him how I had taken on a task that required me to travel along the outskirts of Readsack Woodland—and how I ended up encountering a profound stage beast: the Steelspine Wolf.

  Shadow Sentinel expressed his regret over not being there when I needed him the most. I held back from telling him about saving some sect disciples—doing so would’ve made hiding my identity futile.

  “Well, forget about that. Do you have any info on who the Top 50 performers are and what rewards have been distributed to them?”

  “Yes, Master.” Shadow Sentinel, like an expert informer, listed down the names, with brief descriptions of the disciples. My expression paused at a few of them. He also told me about the rewards given and even mentioned the Secret Realm—its name, its type, and when the disciples would be leaving for it.

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