It seemed no one, not even the beasts of the Secret Realm, walked freely during the night. Blocks of ice falling from the sky were enough of a ward for any sort of wandering. Hao would take his chance to Breakthrough then.

  The noon-bright grass past its maturity, in its ‘twilight days,’ was just as resilient as it was when Hao first came across it. Rain was still turning to steam before landing on its yellow blades. The plants of spiritual nature did not all mimic the life cycle of mortal plants. Some did, but the stronger and more precious, the more obvious its divergence became.

  Even the ice that fell heralding the coming of the night was still turning to glowing vapor before ever getting close to the grass. But as the plants laid down to rest for the fall, winter, and spring, the smaller the aura of steam around the plant became.

  In the cave now emptied, Hao sat sealed in the side tunnel he opened. His confidence was growing as he held the flower bulb full of sap, a fatal certainty. If he did not use the bulb now, the only one benefitting would be the person who killed him to take it or the scavenger that comes to loot afterward.

  The bulb’s heat was intimidating even now, wrapped and sealed in petals and grasses.

  Almost everything about the Noon-Bright flower was documented. The method of harvest, its life cycle, and a few major effects of using it. All except for how to actually use it.

  After holding it for so long, Hao thought he knew the method. It was rather obvious, really, but the thought of it made him shake. The heat of this flower would flow through him. Like the Scorching Yang of the sun before, during his first days in the Secret Realm. It was a tiny sun; that same scorching concentrated.

  Hao stared at the little egg-sized bulb of greenery, glowing gold. For a moment, the boy thought he was dauntless.

  Do other people experience breakthroughs like this? He was expecting pain in his breakthrough far before he ever found the Noon-Bright Grass. The moment the temperature of the stone walls dropped to an extreme cold, coming close to midnight. Hao began his cultivation.

  He had done a lot of preparation in the short time he had for this moment. The Blue Moons Mountain’s white cloak was long removed and placed elsewhere. He had a feeling the cold was his ally tonight.

  The World Energy inside the bag was more than abundant.

  Hao held the petal bulb up in his left hand, his right reaching for the Spirit-Holding bag on his chest, ready to release the World Energy trapped inside. He shuddered, letting out a long breath. His mind reached a steady and clear state. His eyes, black hollows, swirling white.

  Then one tap, and the bag burst with mist. The moment he began releasing the World Energy, the tiny cave became a cloud, rapidly trying to flee with nowhere to go.

  Hao no longer had any hesitations, with a Bang his hands clapped together. The delicate bulb was crushed. Petals unfurling like springs from the tension they held each other under. The sap escaped, defying gravity, crawling up his palm and filling his hands.

  The charring sensation of hot oil filling Hao’s hands was hard to ignore. But doing so, he began his breath. Any World Energy that was trying to escape froze, changing direction and flowing toward Hao at a rapidly increasing pace.

  The sap remained just as hot as it was changing. First getting soft, turning to a liquid like water, then evaporating to a gas, then lighter yet again, until it was like the World Energy itself. Hao kept it clasped in his hands. While in the middle of his breath, he started pulling his hands apart, the palms still facing each other. A golden mist that was once a sweet, enticing sap rushing into his body.

  It split into a dozen curtains of gold. Given the chance, it burrowed into his hands first, flowing into the center of his palms, crawling all around him, tendrils of ethereal gold flowing into any spot it could find.

  Hao’s head shot back, trying to keep his mind steady, his mouth opening as he let out a silent cry. The process was worse than he expected. He was already expecting something pretty bad.

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  Havoc began in his Qi channels. The mist-like World Energy created inside the bag was following behind the golden mist. Before, when he was cultivating for a breakthrough, World Energy would drag through him, opening or widening channels. That was just a slight discomfort. This was another experience entirely, like molten metal dripping from his forehead to his navel, with the intent to split him in two from the inside. It felt endless, a slow trickle down to his forming Vital Core.

  But it wasn’t just the one channel the extremely hot Yang Qi and World Energy traveled through. It ran the normal course as well. From fingertip to toe, the golden mist explored all of them until it reached a stop at his vital core, not dissipating in the slightest. The rest of the white mist following just behind.

  Hao couldn’t tell if he reached the Sixth stage or not; his mind was elsewhere. The channels were formed, and perfectly so if he had to guess, but he didn’t know. The only thing he was certain of was the heat did not stop. His skin was trying to sweat, but the Yin heavy night was freezing moisture to his skin before it could drip. Only for it to melt and freeze in a repeat.

  It was only getting worse. Hao tore the top of his robe open, exposing red skin and shard-like formations of crystalline ice growing like icicles but never cooling inside. Heat pulsating like the sun spread inside of him, starting from where his core was to form.

  He kicked the hatch that held the little tunnel air-sealed, cracking it as it flung across the cave, shattering on the far wall. Through his clenched teeth and locked lips, he growled, letting out a muffled agonized scream. A feral grunt, “Cold, Something cold. I need something cold!” His mind went to the feline demonic beast. It made ice where it walked. He remembered the sensation of the beast’s meat in his stomach. Even cooked, hot, and eaten fresh from the fire, the beast’s meat felt icy. But he didn’t have the time or cognitive ability to take out and cut off some flesh to eat.

  The broth! The broth was the same. Even when it was steaming, it felt cold in my stomach. There was no broth left. He drank it all down to empty the cauldron, to soften the bones in fat. That smell they gave off…

  Hao sat up, pulling the bones from the bag, his teeth ripping through them. Soft, then hard, then soft again as his teeth found the marrow, Hao devoured. He seemed like a demon as he crunched and slurped. Skull, paws, vertebrae, but it was not enough. The cooling sensation of the crushed-up bones in his stomach chilled him, but not fast or strong enough. He knew it was being hopeful with the try. Not even the meat would be of much help against the heat of the sap.

  Hao saw the outside from the corner of his eye. Other than the noise he was making, it was silent, no ice striking the ground. He began a crawl at great speed, hurrying to the sky. His legs swung around as red icicles grew from his nose. Skin flaking away, revealing a red pulpy mass as he dragged himself.

  He got himself up into a meditative position, taking in the Yin energy of midnight, steam rising from his upper body. It wasn’t hard to find a meditative state. He couldn’t think much if he wanted to. A dizziness was taking him. His brain cooking, even the cold outside, was subtle when compared to the heat coming from inside his body.

  The world was fading as he opened and closed his eyes, meditating like this was not enough, and death was coming cloaked in fire to greet him. The Noon-Bright flower was steaming similarly just in front of him, for the flower it was defensive to keep itself safe, for Hao it was death. That flower was the real danger, not the Demonic beast that guarded it. Hao gave a dry laugh at the ironic thought. The beast was the opposite of the flower in many ways, but they both gave off a mist, the beast during the day instead of night.

  “Hahaha, wait… Death?” Hao remembered how much he hated dying, even when there was nothing to lose. His eyes became pins, his hair standing, his ears ringing madly. His skull, fleshless, looked at him with his own eyes, watching.

  With thoughts of the beast at the forefront of his mind, he began thinking through the things in the Spirit-Holding bag, taking anything to do with the beast out. Its sapphire eyes, a jar of its blood. He threw the eyes into his mouth like medicine downing the jar of blood, like it was water. He could not taste right now, not that taste was a priority over living.

  There was an effect, but it was like dropping ice in a metalworker’s forge.

  The one last thing left of the beast that wasn’t gnawing away at its corpse was the core. Cold to the touch, but its value was more than Hao could ever know, that much he knew. He could get every other resource that he needed for reaching the peak of Reclamation in under a year if he traded it to the Sect.

  What use would I need for any of it if I’m rotting in the Mid-summer cave? Unless it just helps hasten my death.

  Hao took out the orb. It was perfectly round, beautiful, glowing under the lightless night sky. Hao long abandoned the fear of his death and accepted its concept, but would not easily accept it happening. The blue glow of the small orb disappearing as it passed Hao’s lips. Only the glow of the Noon-Bright flower remaining, fighting off the dark of night.

  When Yin and Yang conflicted in the skies of the Secret Realm, lightning formed, tearing through the clouds.

  The hot and cold, which Hao knew was in a weakened form of something greater, battled in his body. It was like those stormy skies. Hao managed to cultivate a little longer, meditating through the experience, forcing the two energies to get close to calm. That was until he felt his bones freeze and his mind set aflame. This time, before his mouth could open for a gasp, his side hit the ground, losing consciousness.