Chapter 45: Chapter 45
Ethan never imagined his luck would be so absurdly strong.
Two natal flame seeds—something not even one in ten million spirit beasts might possess.
It was as though the heavens had spilled their fortune; like the luck of a dozen ancestral lines had finally come due all at once.
With Ashira safely in possession of two flame seeds, the guilt Ethan felt about accepting one for himself vanished.
He reached into his storage and drew forth a slim bottle carved from cold jade, the kind used by ancient alchemists to store the most volatile treasures.
With solemn care, he guided one of the azure flames—the very heart of the blue phoenix—into its crystalline depths. The seed danced and flickered, casting shifting blue-green shadows against his face.
"Thank you," Ethan murmured, stroking Ashira’s feathery head in gratitude.
"Gu Gu~" Ashira chirped, cozying up to Ethan’s side in a display of birdish affection.
Liana, her weariness replaced with relief and joy, offered profuse thanks before gathering up Ashira and departing through the frost-laden tomb passages.
The two vanished into the pale dawn, the blue phoenix warbling a final affectionate call over her shoulder.
Ethan returned to his wooden hut in the Ancestral tomb, mind flush with anticipation. With practiced ease, he triggered his defensive formations, shut out the world, and settled himself cross-legged amid the hush.
He reached into his reserves of patience and discipline, calming both body and mind in preparation for the next great leap.
Once every aspect of his mental and physical state had been tuned to its sharpest peak, Ethan produced the Dirt World Flower and Mystic Marrow Tempering Lotion.
At last, it was time to utilize these treasures—the rewards he had earned.
He dragged out a sturdy, wide wooden barrel, filled it with clear spiritual spring water, and then tipped in crushed petals of the Dirt World Flower and the full measure of the molten red Mystic Marrow Tempering Lotion.
The spring water blushed to a gleaming, milky hue, clouds of warmth spinning out into the room like breaths of heaven itself.
Wisps of fragrant mist swirled above the surface, the temperature rising until the cramped space was a sauna. Without hesitation, Ethan stripped off his clothes and plunged into the barrel.
A rush of heat and elemental energy enveloped him.
It was like soaking in a pleasure and pain indistinguishable, as the essence of the earth and the marrow-tinged fire began to burrow into his flesh, saturating blood, muscle, and bones with raw, pulsating power.
Yet it wasn’t enough—hunger for advancement clawed at him. He reached out mentally, willed his body to absorb more, opened his core and started to draw directly from the Dirt World Flower’s vital force.
Most cultivators would never dare this.
The force of high-grade treasures is not only immense but can be uncontrollable; normally, it required careful refining by seasoned alchemists before usage. But Ethan’s body was now like the legendary beasts of old—a monstrous cauldron of resilience, able to withstand surges of energy that would annihilate an ordinary man.
It could be called nothing less than "wolfing down" the essence of heaven.
He directed the energy as he summoned the Celestial Jade Physique Scripture, and as he did, a golden Eight Trigram array shimmered to life beneath his seat.
Power flooded him, the fiery force channeling straight into his backbone, where cracks of bone and muscle shuddered and rejuvenated. Golden lines—dense and archaic—crawled outward across his skin, shifting rapidly from gold to hot red as celestial power rained down upon him.
The blood within his veins roared; the marrow inside his bones burned with new, godlike vitality.
Over and over, the energy of the Dirt World Flower and Mystic Marrow Tempering Lotion battered his body, breaking limits again and again until every inch had been reforged.
Time blurred—a single moment stretched into infinity.
A full month passed in this crucible. The hut quaked with the surges of energy; at times shockwaves even shook layers of snow from the surrounding trees. These were no ordinary spiritual fluctuations—each wave was the sound of Qi and blood with essence being reborn again and again.
When Ethan finally emerged from trance, his eyes shone with a new luster. Towering physical strength, bottomless stamina—his meridians roiled with energy.
"It’s even more potent than I’d hoped," he whispered with a rare smile.
"Nearly at the peak of the third realm—just a nudge away from a breakthrough."
He could feel the leap—his Celestial Jade Physique was now at the late stage of the third level. Only a final push, perhaps with the Azure flame seed and a perfected Divine Flame technique, would shatter the ceiling entirely.
Yet Ethan was shrewd.
"The stronger the flame, the better for my breakthrough. Blue flame is but a beast’s seed. If I wait and evolve it to an innate spiritual fire, the profit could be tenfold," he reasoned. Even with system assistance, fortune must not be squandered.
Every treasure’s value had to be maximized, never used for mere convenience.
He steadied his intent—patience, always patience. It was the lesson he’d learned a hundred times in the lonely quiet of the lake.
The system panel flickered in his mind’s eye.
His realm had advanced to the late Soul Formation, but Ethan knew that measured power was just the tip of the glacier. In true battle, he could face late Void Amalgamation cultivators and feel no fear.
Crawling from his retreat, worn and grimy from a month’s isolated fever, Ethan considered how best to recover.
Cleanse the body, fill the belly, and ease the mind—the soundest advice he’d ever absorbed.
He took his time preparing food—a few familiar home-cooked dishes and a good bottle of wine.
The simple pleasures grounded him, the flavors brightening his spirit.
When he finished, contentment filled his chest—a reminder that life’s flavor wasn’t only found in the path of torn flesh and broken stone.
Restless again, he decided a change was in order. For ten years he’d paced the shores of Serene Mirror Lake, letting the quiet rot seep into his soul. With the Purple Dragon Order, his boundaries were now wide open; all of Azure Origin Dao Sect was his to explore.
He was stepping outside for his first stretch in a decade when a wind cut across the path. Azel, stern and upright, soared to the gates—a streak on the crisp morning air.
Ethan grinned and pressed his palms together. "Greetings, Elder Azel."
Azel folded his arms, amusement and exasperation in his voice. "Where have you been hiding? I’ve looked for you for a whole month."