What do you mean I'm a cultivator?-Chapter 26

As the days passed following his breakthrough to the seventh stage of Qi Condensation, Jiang Cheng fell into a rhythm that was both familiar and subtly different. Each morning, he rose before dawn, his body now requiring less sleep than before.

Seems like the Dense Qi in his dantian was subtly nourishing his body. A sign, he was slowly getting closer to the foundation establishment perhaps?

By midday, when the sun reached its zenith and most disciples took their meal break, Jiang Cheng would quietly consume a satiation pill, and walk in the tower of records to read.

The afternoons brought what he truly looked forward to, as he slaved away chopping wood, or whatever else the sect wanted. Access to the second floor of the Tower of Records. Here, among texts that were restricted to the lowest outer disciples, he could study cultivation books, monster encyclopedias, and historical accounts of great cultivators.

One of them, even gathered his interest. apparently, Ascendant Chenggong, had developed a way for spirit sea cultivators to "fly", a incredible feat, as true Flight was something of a later realm.

Unfortunately the technique, was lost to time, as he had died more than twelve millennia ago, something that was quite surprising to Cheng.

How long could a cultivator really live. Where there truly immortals in this world, able to soar the stars, and grasp the world in their hand?

"The Principle of harmony." he muttered one afternoon, fingers tracing the faded characters of an ancient manual. "When two compatible spiritual energies interact, they can strengthen each other beyond the sum of their individual potencies. Harmonize in other words."

He committed the principle to memory, along with dozens of others. Unlike many disciples who sought only combat techniques or flashy abilities, when their realm had no such things.

Jiang Cheng prioritized understanding the very thing that brought him said power in the first place. Power without comprehension was hollow strength.

As dusk settled over the sect, Jiang Cheng would make his way back to his quarters. Still the same small dingy cabin he had occupied since joining the sect. Though he could now afford slightly better accommodations with the contribution points he had gathered, that was a stupid way to spend them.

Besides, what was wrong with his cabin anyways?

Nightfall brought the most important part of his day. Seated upon his worn mat, legs crossed in the familiar lotus position, Jiang Cheng would begin his cultivation. After his ascent to the seventh stage, Jiang Cheng was even more fired up to keep going.

Two weeks after his advancement, he judged himself ready for the second pill. He had read that taxing one's boxy by gorging on pills was ill advised. Something about density and long term effects. As well as something more interesting. Pill toxicity.

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Apparently, even the purest of pills had some kinds of toxins, that formed during the creation of a pill, that with enough usage could bring negative effects to the body. This was even more apparent when one consumed pills of a higher realm than oneself.

This time, when the dense Qi flooded his system, he was better prepared. Though still challenging to control, the wild energy yielded more readily to his will, flowing into his dantian with less resistance than before.

His progress was steady but not rapid. Jiang Cheng understood that haste could lead to unstable foundations. OR so the books said anyways.

Better to advance surely than to rush and leave weaknesses in his cultivation base. By the time he had consumed four of the ten pills, nearly three months had passed since his return from the mission that nearly costed him his life.

The changes in him were subtle but unmistakable to those with eyes to see, and care for that matter.

One evening, as he browsed a particularly dense text on energy circulation techniques, he became aware of someone watching him.

Looking up, he found one of the inner sect disciples. Not one he recognized from the mine incident. The man observing him had a curious expression on his face.

"You're that outer disciple who survived the jade mole attack?" the inner disciple spoke. "Seventh stage of Qi Condensation now, aren't you?"

Jiang Cheng rose and offered a respectful bow. "Yes, senior."

The inner disciple snorted, clearly not amused.

"Don't think this means anything, junior. You're still in the outer sect."

The disciple spoke, and walked away, muttering something like trash under his breath.

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Perhaps the man had a rivalry with the man who came at the mines? Was it a one sided one? No, perhaps he was jealous of the man, provided he hanged out with the woman.

But, nonetheless, it was matters unconcerned to him.

That night, as he sat down to cultivate, Jiang Cheng removed the fifth pill from the jade bottle. Halfway through his supply now.

He studied the faintly glowing pill in his palm, considering what lay ahead. The seventh stage was merely another stepping stone. The true challenges were still to come.

As he placed the pill on his tongue and gulped down, he felt a strange certainty settle over him. The path of cultivation was long and fraught with danger, but for the first time since joining the sect, Jiang Cheng truly believed he might be able to walk it to its end.

Sure he might be getting a bit overconfident for no reason, but he wasn't dumb enough to take on another mission just yet.

He was determined, to add some martial arts in his repertoire, before taking on any other mission.

As Jiang Cheng continued his daily routine, he made one significant change.

After finishing his evening studies in the Tower of Records, he would now return to the small clearing behind his cabin earlier than usual.

While he had forgotten to grab some wood to fix up his cabin, he had luckily brought a nice branch with him, tucked on the satchel he had returned back to the outer pavilion.

And then, he started carving the branch, into a sword. Or so he tried to. It barely looked like one by the time he was done, his fingers stinging from using them to carve the wood, as he had no knife on him. Hell, he almost ripped a fingernail clean off one of his fingers, as he momentarily didn't apply enough Qi to it.

Defeated once more by the lacking of his carving, next day, during work, this time carrying water up the sect, he asked one of the disciples working next to him, speaking.

"Hey. You know if the outer sect has any place with training weapons?"

Cheng spoke, glancing at the disciple next to him, a short, stubby kid that looked like shit, likely his first year in the sect.

"Huh? uh, yes, there's a cabin right by the open field next to the mess hall, that has some wooden training weapons s-senior."

Senior? Jiang Cheng thought displeased. Sure, he technically was one, but he was barely fifteen. Not some weathered uncle.

Paying a visit to said cabin later that afternoon, he retrieved one of the wooden swords, returning to his cabin, and walking to the back of it.

The sword art he had discovered on the second floor of the tower was not particularly impressive. "Flowing Water Sword Art" was considered a basic technique even among outer disciples, if Cheng had cared enough to listen to gossip.

But Jiang Cheng recognized its value as a foundation. The greatest towers required the strongest bases. Or something like that, anyways.

"Steady breaths. Firm stance. The sword is an extension, not a tool." he muttered to himself, reciting the manual's opening lines as he moved through the first form.

His initial attempts were clumsy, his body unused to the specific movements required. But with each passing day, his motions grew smoother, more natural.

The wooden sword whistled through the evening air as he practiced the same basic forms again and again, Sometimes Imbuing Qi to the sword, with minimal success, finding it a bit challenging to flowing Qi properly, while keeping track of his movements.

Beyond the sword art, he devoted equal attention to the "Cloud Step" movement art. Another basic skill, but one that laid the groundwork for more advanced movement methods. The ability to shift one's weight instantly, to step lightly and swiftly, was invaluable in combat.

"Weight on the ball of the foot. Body turns before the leg extends. Breath controls the step." he muttered, moving across the clearing in patterns in accordance to the art's guiding steps.

Often, he would practice until his robes were soaked with sweat, his muscles trembling with exertion. Physical exhaustion was a new sensation for someone who had focused primarily on meditative cultivation until now, The menial tasks having turned from back breaking work, to merely a hassle, but he welcomed it. The burning in his muscles meant growth.

When at last, night arrived, he would return to his cabin after a rinse in the communal bathrooms, he would sit on his worn mat and begin his regular cultivation routine.

The combination of physical training and spiritual cultivation seemed to complement each other in unexpected ways. His Qi flowed more smoothly after the physical exertion, finding paths through his body that had previously been subtle or blocked.

Clearly, physical power was a important part. And it made since. The stronger the vessel, The stronger and denser Qi it could take before breaking.

Five months after his return from the mine, Jiang Cheng consumed his seventh pill. The surging Qi seemed to respond more readily to his control now. His dantian, already somewhat denser than before, began to undergo another transformation.

By the time he consumed his eight pill, just two weeks later, he could feel the approaching threshold of the eighth stage of Qi Condensation.

One night, as he sat in meditation, the familiar surge of the ninth pill coursing through his body, flowing to his dantian, he felt a subtle shift in it.

The Qi within began to swirl thanks to his will, and he once again started the process of condensing it.

The pressure built steadily, his dantian straining to contain the increased pressure. But unlike previous breakthroughs, this one had a easier side.

Sure, it was even harder than stepping in the seventh stage, but perhaps, because of his new habit of training his body, that part felt a bit easier. Of course, he still sweat like he was submerged in water, but the strain on his body felt just a tad more

With a sensation akin to a dam breaking, the Qi in his dantian suddenly compressed further, doubling in density almost instantly.

The walls of his dantian expanded slightly to accommodate the change.

Eighth stage of Qi Condensation.

That evening, as he practiced his sword forms, Jiang Cheng noticed a subtle change. The wooden sword seemed to respond more fluidly to his movements. He had read that at higher stages of cultivation, weapons could begin to form a connection with their wielders, much like how movements could become instinctually, such could a weapon too.

Even more impressively, weapons forged from powerful materials could even from souls, becoming Sprit weapons, or artifacts. Or the book aid so, at least.

The "Cloud Step" technique also seemed to come more naturally now. Where before he had to consciously place each foot, now his body moved with intuitive grace. The movements were becoming internalized, part of his very being rather than a series of memorized positions, thanks to a month of practice, and the changes that a cultivator experienced.