Kevin sat with his back against a tree and stared at the sky.
The clouds drifted past slowly while the cold wind bit at his face, but Kevin barely felt it. His thoughts were louder than the wind, louder than the rustling branches above his head.
He was a cultivator now. An actual cultivator in a cultivation world.
The realization settled over him like a weight, and Kevin felt a smile tug at his lips. He'd beaten Wei Shen. Humiliated him in front of everyone. It had felt good. Really good.
Kevin looked down at his hands and closed them into fists. The power crackling beneath his skin felt real in a way nothing in his old life ever had. The injuries from the fight were healing already, the bruises fading to yellow, the cuts scabbing over faster than they should. He imagined himself back on Earth with this level of strength, and the thought made him laugh. Superman. That's what people would've called him.
But the laughter died quickly.
Kevin lowered his hands and stared at the ground between his feet. He was in trouble. Wei Shen's backing was real which meant they would come for him. Soon.
The only way to shake them off and protect his life was to join the sect as an official disciple.
Kevin's jaw tightened as he remembered the timeline. From Xiao Feng's memories, the next disciples' examination was in two weeks.
Two weeks.
Pressure tightened in his chest like a fist squeezing his lungs. He needed to get stronger. Fast. He couldn't stay here in the Snow Valley forever—one way or another, he'd be found, or he'd die from the cold, or a demonic beast would tear him apart.
Kevin stood up and started walking.
Urgency burned in his chest as he moved through the valley, but he forced himself to stay alert while his eyes swept the trees and rocks for any signs of danger. The snow crunched beneath his feet, and his breath misted in the freezing air.
Two hours passed.
Kevin walked through narrow paths between ice-covered boulders, climbed over fallen logs half-buried in snow, and pushed through thickets of bare branches that scratched at his arms. He was looking for something—a clearing, a cave, anywhere isolated enough to train without being disturbed.
He nearly died when a shadow moved in the trees ahead.
Kevin froze. His heart slammed against his ribs as a massive shape emerged from behind a cluster of rocks. It was some kind of beast, easily twice his size, with matted fur and claws that looked like they could rip him in half. The creature's eyes locked onto him, and Kevin felt his blood turn to ice.
Shit.
The beast took a step forward.
Kevin didn't breathe. Didn't move. His entire body locked up as terror washed through him, while he waited for the creature to charge.
But it didn't.
The beast's head turned sharply to the left, its ears twitching. A low growl rumbled in its chest before it bounded away into the forest, crashing through the underbrush and disappearing from sight.
Kevin stood there for a full minute, shaking.
What the hell just happened?
He looked around the clearing, but there was nothing. No other beasts, no sounds except the wind. Whatever had spooked the creature, Kevin had no idea, but he wasn't about to wait around to find out.
He started walking again.
Anger flared in his chest as he moved. How could he get terrified like that? He was planning on being the strongest in this world, and he'd nearly pissed himself from one demonic beast?
Pathetic. Fucking pathetic!
Kevin's steps grew heavier and louder. He kicked at the snow, shoved aside branches with more force than necessary, and muttered curses under his breath. The fear was gone, replaced by rage at his own weakness that made him almost reckless.
But then common sense kicked him in the head.
Kevin stopped walking and looked around. He was making noise. A lot of noise. Any beast within a hundred meters could hear him stomping through the valley like an idiot.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. Stupid. Reckless. He couldn't afford to act like this if he wanted to survive.
Kevin slowed his pace, quieted his footsteps, and kept his eyes on the trees as he moved forward. The anger didn't disappear entirely, but he shoved it down and focused on staying alert.
Twenty minutes later, he found it.
A clearing opened up ahead, wide and flat, with a frozen river cutting through the center and a heavy waterfall crashing down from the cliffs above. The sound of rushing water echoed through the valley, and mist hung in the air like a curtain.
Kevin stepped into the clearing and looked around while he took in a deep breath.
This was it. This was where he would train.
He walked to the edge of the frozen river and stared at the waterfall. The water hammered down with brutal force, sending spray in every direction, and the cold radiating off it made Kevin's skin prickle.
Perfect.
Kevin sat down on the frozen ground and thought about the Birth of the Stone Monkey.
The moment he focused on it, information flooded his mind. Words turned into understanding. Diagrams became instinct. Kevin sat there while the knowledge settled into place, and when it finally finished, he opened his eyes and stared at the waterfall.
The Birth of the Stone Monkey only had six tiers.
Six.
Kevin's thoughts raced. From Xiao Feng's memories, the body tempering realm had ten stages. Most cultivation arts aligned with those ten stages, progressing step by step through flesh refinement, bone tempering, marrow cleansing and all.
But the Stone Monkey art compressed all of that into six tiers, with each tier covering multiple stages. He was currently close to the first tier—Obsidian Flesh—equivalent to stages one and two of the standard realm. If he cultivated it to the peak, he would match someone at the second stage.
Shock settled over him as he realized what that meant. His immortal art was powerful. Each tier was worth two stages of normal cultivation, and according to the information burned into his mind, someone at tier one could fight someone at stage two on equal grounds on pure strength alone.
Kevin smiled widely like a fool.
Heaven-defying. That's what this was.
But there was a catch. The art demanded brutal tempering. It wasn't enough to sit and circulate energy—the body had to be pushed to its absolute limits, broken down completely before it could be rebuilt stronger.
Kevin stood up and looked at the waterfall. Then at the ice cold river. Then at the clearing around him.
He had the tools and all he needed to do now was to use them.
Kevin stripped off his ragged upper robe and sighed. This was the perfect environment to train. The cold, the water, the isolation—all of it would force his body to adapt or break.
He walked to the edge of the river and stepped into the water.
The cold hit him like a punch to the chest.
Kevin gasped as ice wrapped around his legs and crawled up his body. His teeth started chattering immediately, and his muscles locked up from the shock. The water was freezing—far colder than anything he'd experienced before—and Kevin almost cried out in pain.
What the hell was this cold?
He forced himself to stay in the water and took a breath. Then another. His body screamed at him to get out, but Kevin ignored it and focused on the Birth of the Stone Monkey.
The technique required him to sit under the frozen waterfall and breathe according to some breathing technique called rhythm of the mountain. Any other day he would have laughed at the lazy name but it wasn't so funny now.
Kevin waded deeper into the river until the water reached his waist, and then he moved toward the waterfall. The current pulled at him, trying to drag him downstream, but Kevin planted his feet and pushed forward step by step.
The waterfall loomed ahead, crashing down with brutal force.
Kevin took a deep breath and stepped under it.
The pressure slammed into him like a hammer.
Kevin's knees buckled as the weight of the falling water drove him down, and he gasped as pain exploded across his shoulders and back. The force was immense, crushing, and Kevin barely managed to stay on his feet.
He tried to breathe according to the technique, but the water filled his mouth and nose and choked him. Kevin staggered backward and stumbled out from under the waterfall, coughing and gasping for air.
His chest heaved as he stood in the river, and humiliation burned in his gut.
He couldn't even last a second.
Kevin gritted his teeth and stepped back under the waterfall.
The pressure slammed into him again, driving him to his knees this time, and Kevin planted his hands on the riverbed to keep himself from being swept away. Water pounded against his head and shoulders, and pain shot through every inch of his body.
He tried to breathe. Tried to focus on the technique. But the force was too much, and Kevin stumbled backward again, gasping for air.
Three times. Four times. Five.
Each time Kevin stepped under the waterfall, the pressure drove him back within seconds. His body couldn't handle it. The weight was too much, the cold too brutal, and Kevin's strength wasn't enough.
He sat in the river with water up to his chest and stared at the waterfall.
This was going to take longer than he thought.
Kevin forced himself to his feet and moved back under the waterfall. The pressure slammed into him, but this time Kevin managed to stay on his feet for a full five seconds before the weight drove him down.
Progress.
Kevin stepped back, took a breath, and tried again.