After resting for several days as his father had instructed, Mo Xuan returned to the Rune Archive on the fifth day. It was as quiet as ever. Rows upon rows of ancient scrolls stretched into the distance, their worn bindings carrying the scent of old paper and ink.
Mo Xuan stood motionless before the shelves. For nearly two years, this place had been his entire world. Here, he had learned the fundamentals of formations, studied Living Script until dawn countless times, and uncovered the forgotten history of the Mo Clan.
And here… looking back, the book had once seemed like a fraud. Yet it had also become the foundation of his new beginning.
Elder Qin happened to pass by and noticed the thoughtful expression on the young boy's face. "You've been standing there for quite a while."
Mo Xuan smiled.
The old man chuckled. "Looks like you have read everything on this floor."
Eventually, Elder Qin's expression softened. "You've changed; your eyes look brighter. Even though I don't know what caused it, I'll say it is a good change."
Trying to console Mo Xuan, he said, "There are many paths to wealth, and remaining a mortal is not necessarily a bad thing."
Mo Xuan, not wanting to draw attention to himself, sighed and nodded in agreement. Taking a book, he sat down and began reading as Elder Qin left him alone.
After some time, he quietly closed the book. Outside, the afternoon breeze stirred gently through the trees. The sunlight felt warmer than usual. He took a slow breath. His body responded instinctively.
The air seemed clearer and every sound sharper. Even the rhythm of leaves dancing in the wind appeared strangely harmonious. The ordeal had not merely strengthened him. It had changed the way he perceived the world itself.
As he walked back toward the Mo residence, he noticed a familiar figure waiting beneath an old tree.
Mo Ming.
She leaned against the trunk with folded arms. "So."
She looked him up and down. "Finished hiding in the library?"
Mo Xuan smiled. "I wasn't hiding."
"You spent two years surrounded by books."
"That's practically the same thing."
He laughed, feeling embarrassed. To everyone else, he was still the child whose Awakening Ceremony had ended in disappointment. The boy with the defective soul. The one whom the clan had quietly written off as someone with no future in cultivation.
That misunderstanding suited him perfectly. The fewer people who noticed him, the more freedom he possessed.
He chatted a little with Mo Ming before they both went their separate ways.
His daily routine soon settled into a rhythm.
Before sunrise, he would leave his room and practise the breathing techniques recorded within the Revolution Connecting Mantra. Unlike ordinary cultivation methods that only absorbed Heaven and Earth Spiritual Energy, the Revolution Connecting Mantra also focused on synchronising the body, breath, and consciousness. Every inhalation strengthened his physique a little more, while every exhalation removed the remaining impurities hidden deep within his body.
Only after several hours would he join his father for breakfast. From there, he headed to the Rune Archive. To everyone else, he appeared exactly as before. A quiet child immersed in books, but only he understood what he was truly searching for.
Each evening, after the library closed and darkness settled over the Mo Clan, Mo Xuan would quietly leave the estate through a little-used mountain path. Hidden deep within the surrounding forest was a small clearing beside a stream. It became his private training ground.
There, he finally began exploring the true changes brought about by his new Cosmic Soul. At first, the results astonished even him. Without circulating a single strand of Soul Power, he could split thick tree trunks with a punch.
His eyesight had sharpened to an unbelievable degree. From hundreds of metres away, he could distinguish individual leaves fluttering in the wind. His hearing became even more frightening.
The beating wings of insects. The footsteps of rabbits beneath the undergrowth. Even droplets of water striking the surface of the stream seemed impossibly clear. The world itself had become more vivid.
Yet the greatest mystery remained his Cosmic Soul. Every night, after exhausting his body, Mo Xuan would sit in meditation beneath the stars.
His training became increasingly demanding. Mornings belonged to study, afternoons to rune work, and nights entirely to himself.
Failure after failure slowly became understanding. Understanding gradually became instinct.
Without realising it, nearly two years slipped by. The frail six-year-old boy who had once collapsed after losing a single drop of essence blood had disappeared. In his place stood a boy nearing his ninth birthday, his body forged into something far beyond that of an ordinary cultivator.
Yet throughout those years... Mo Xuan never tested himself against a true opponent. One morning, after finishing his meditation, he slowly opened his eyes. He looked toward the dense forest stretching beyond the mountains surrounding the Mo Clan.
A faint smile appeared on his face. "No matter how much I train…"
"…strength that has never been tested is only an illusion."
The morning mist still lingered over the mountains when Mo Xuan left the Mo Clan. He wore plain grey robes identical to those of an ordinary outer disciple. He picked up the simple iron sword his father had bought him, wrapped it carefully in cloth, and stealthily made his way toward the Spirit Beast Forest.
Neither he nor anyone else knew that, before the day ended, a single snapped twig would change the course of his destiny forever.
Leaving the Mo Clan behind, Mo Xuan followed the winding mountain trail until the familiar buildings disappeared behind the forest. The deeper he walked, the quieter the world became. The cheerful songs of ordinary birds gradually disappeared.
The air grew denser with Spiritual Energy. Ancient trees towered overhead, their enormous branches blocking much of the morning sunlight. This was no longer the outskirts.
This was the beginning of the Spirit Beast Forest. Mo Xuan slowed his breathing instinctively. His Spiritual Sense spread outward like invisible ripples. Within several dozen metres, every movement entered his perception.
A squirrel gathering nuts. A snake coiled beneath fallen leaves. A family of Spirit Rabbits drinking beside a stream. Everything became astonishingly clear.
He smiled.
He spent the entire morning moving cautiously through the outer region. Rather than searching for prey immediately, he observed.
Footprints. Broken branches. Scratches upon tree trunks. Old claw marks left by Spirit Beasts. Everything became part of his lesson. Knowledge kept a cultivator alive just as surely as strength. Near midday, he discovered fresh tracks pressed into damp earth.
He crouched beside them.
He gently touched the edge of one print. "The soil is still moist."
"It passed recently." Mo Xuan's eyes narrowed.
He had spent months reading bestiaries within the Rune Archive.
The tracks matched perfectly.
Blood Wolf. Its greatest strengths were speed, endurance, and ruthless hunting instincts. Unlike solitary predators, Blood Wolves usually travelled in packs, making even experienced cultivators wary of encountering them. Mo Xuan slowly stood.
Instead of following the tracks immediately, he climbed a nearby tree and silently observed the surrounding terrain. Nearly half an hour passed. Nothing moved. No scent of other wolves. Only then did he descend. He cautiously continued along the trail.
The tracks led him toward a narrow ravine hidden deep within the forest. As he approached, another scent drifted through the air. Blood.
Fresh blood.
Mo Xuan immediately concealed his aura and moved from tree to tree with measured steps. The smell grew stronger. Then...
He heard it. Crunch.
Crunch.
The unmistakable sound of powerful jaws crushing bone.
He slowly leaned against the trunk of an ancient pine and peered into the ravine below. A Blood Wolf crouched over the carcass of a freshly killed Mountain Deer. Its crimson fur shimmered beneath scattered rays of sunlight, while its muzzle was stained dark with blood.
Each bite tore flesh effortlessly from bone. Its ears twitched constantly. Its sharp eyes scanned the surroundings between mouthfuls.
Mo Xuan remained perfectly still. His breathing slowed. His heartbeat steadied.
He carefully evaluated every detail. "Tier One Spirit Beast."
"Equivalent to a Soul Scholar."
A faint smile appeared on his face. He had searched for an opponent worthy of testing the fruits of two years of relentless training. Now...
He had found one. He slowly loosened the iron sword from his back.
"This…" he whispered, "…will be my first real battle."
Mo Xuan did not attack immediately. Instead, he remained hidden behind the thick trunk of the ancient pine, observing every movement of the Blood Wolf. His breathing became almost imperceptible. A hunter's greatest weapon was not strength but patience.
The Blood Wolf continued feeding, yet its vigilance never relaxed.
After every few bites, it would suddenly lift its head, its crimson eyes sweeping across the surrounding trees. Its nose twitched constantly, separating hundreds of scents carried by the mountain breeze.
Mo Xuan silently admired it. "No wonder Blood Wolves are difficult to hunt."
"They're always alert."
His Spiritual Sense expanded once more. The surrounding area remained clear. Only the beast before him. His first real opponent.
He slowly recalled everything he had studied over the past two years.
Blood Wolf. Tier One Spirit Beast. Exceptional speed. Powerful hind legs.
Strong jaws capable of crushing iron. Weakness...
Mo Xuan frowned slightly. The bestiary had mentioned several possibilities, but none were certain. That meant one thing. He would have to discover the answer himself.