The condensation process went smoothly — far more smoothly than anyone would expect from someone with no master, no method, and no root. But it wasn't flawless.
The spirit stones were the problem.
Every time absorption began, Lu Chen noticed it — a subtle, almost imperceptible loss. A slow bleed. The qi within the stone would flare to life, only to vanish before it ever reached him. He tried adjusting his breath, syncing with the orb's pulse, but the result was always the same.
The actual qi he received? Perhaps five percent.
The rest? Gone.
Some dissipated into the air — wild, untamed. But most of it was devoured by the orb. A living artifact, after all. And a gluttonous one.
Lu Chen had suspected as much from the start. But watching it happen — watching the bulk of the spirit stones vanish into nothingness — was another matter entirely.
Only a handful of pebble-like cores were recreated — crude stones that faintly hummed with refined energy. He tried to reuse them, but even they were diluted, holding only a fraction of their original power.
Two things became clear.
First — his body was still weak. Fragile. No matter how pure the qi became, it could only absorb so much before his meridians began to tremble under the strain.
Second — the orb was alive. It had will. Hunger. And it fed without hesitation.
By the fifth day, Lu Chen had dismantled nearly everything in his inventory — every fragment of weapon, every shard of shadow, every broken tooth from fallen Engagers. All devoured. All refined.
And only then — barely — did he reach the threshold.
[System Notification: Qi Condensation — Breakthrough Achieved][Additional Requirement: Body Enhancement Pill I — Missing]
He stared at the floating prompt, a bitter taste rising in his mouth.
A pill.
Of course it couldn't be that easy.
His body trembled, not from exhaustion, but from the qi pressing against his limits — condensed and ready to settle, yet unstable. Turbulent. Like a dammed river straining against its confines. Without the pill, his physical form couldn't anchor the energy. The breakthrough was real… but incomplete.
Half-born.
He grit his teeth, gaze flicking back to the orb — now dim and quiet. The hunger was sated — for now. But it offered no answers. No new options.
No miracle.
Qian arrived as usual, arms full of dried herbs and a small pot of porridge balanced on top. She nudged the door open with her foot — and froze.
Lu Chen was on the floor.
He wasn't resting, or stretching, or meditating — he was crawling. Clawing at the ground with shaking hands, breath rasping like every inhale scorched his lungs. His back arched unnaturally. Sweat soaked through his shirt, pooling beneath him in a spreading shadow. His skin flushed and twitching with heat, veins shimmering faintly with silver light.
"Lu Chen?" she said cautiously, stepping closer.
No response. His mouth opened, as if to speak — but only a dry gasp escaped.
Her heart dropped. Panic surged.
She dropped everything.
"Doctor Hui! Someone—!" she screamed, bolting from the room. Her voice rang through the compound like a bell, sharp and urgent.
She didn't know what was happening — but she didn't need to.
This wasn't fever. Or fatigue. Or lingering injury.
Something inside him was breaking — dangerously, irreversibly.
He was burning from the inside out.
Doctor Hui arrived in a flurry, robes askew, presence steady. He knelt without a word, pressing two fingers to Lu Chen's pulse.
The moment he touched the boy's dantian, his expression shifted — from concern to disbelief.
He didn't speak.
He acted.
Golden threads of qi surged from his palm, weaving into Lu Chen's body. A stabilisation technique — ancient, efficient, designed to suppress rampaging energy and guide chaotic qi into stillness.
Lu Chen gasped. His limbs jerked once, then went still.
Only after the danger passed did Doctor Hui speak — low, measured, but shaken.
"…He's cultivating."
Qian stiffened. "What?"
Hui didn't look at her. His eyes were fixed on Lu Chen's chest, still glowing faintly.
"He has no root. No core. But the qi inside him — it's real. Crude. Immense."
Finally, he turned to her. "Where did he get this power?"
"I… don't know," she whispered.
Doctor Hui looked back at Lu Chen, breath quiet. His hands hovered again — slower this time. Reverent.
"This shouldn't be possible."
A soft chime echoed in Lu Chen's mind.
[Main Quest Completed: Initiate Qi Condensation][Rewards: +200 Coins][New Main Quest: Reach Foundation Establishment Stage][No Deadline Set]
He stared at the prompt in disbelief.
The system had accepted it.
But he hadn't truly broken through.
Not the traditional way.
The qi within him was wild, incomplete — held together by Doctor Hui's stabilisation and the half-effective pill he'd been given. His core had formed, yes, but barely. Like a cracked vessel lacquered with gold. Functional, but fragile.
He hadn't ascended.
He had cheated.
Or rather, the orb had. A loophole in the system's checks. The qi signature was just strong enough to pass. Just clean enough to register.
An accidental deception. But the system didn't care.
It saw numbers. Thresholds met. Parameters matched.
It had no way of knowing that the man lying half-conscious on a straw mat was still closer to a cripple than a cultivator.
And yet, because of that mistake, a door had opened:
[New Main Quest: Reach Foundation Establishment Stage][No Deadline Set]
No urgency. No countdown. No pressure.
Only silence.
A breath in the storm.
Soft footsteps approached.
Qian knelt beside Lu Chen, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead. His skin was still hot, his pulse flickering like a candle in the wind.
"Doctor Hui," she asked quietly, eyes never leaving Lu Chen's face. "What exactly happened to him?"
The old physician stood nearby, hands still faintly glowing. His face was calm, but his voice carried weight — the kind born of deep unease.
"The qi inside him…" Hui began, choosing his words carefully. "It's not ordinary. Not channelled in any method I know. Most cultivators draw qi into their meridians, purify it, and build a core. But him? It seems like he's drawing qi directly from spirit stones."
Qian frowned. "That's… dangerous, isn't it?"
Hui nodded gravely. "Extremely. Spirit stones hold raw, unfiltered qi — too dense, too chaotic for the mortal body to absorb safely. Most who try this… they die. Their meridians rupture. Their core collapses. The body simply can't handle it."
He stepped closer, eyes narrowing as he studied the faint traces of qi lingering around Lu Chen's dantian — like embers refusing to fade.
"It wasn't just unrefined. It was… intentional. Like a river forcing its way through a cracked dam. I stabilised it — barely — but I felt something else. A will. Not his, or not entirely. Something guiding the flow. Shaping him from the outside in."
Qian stared at Lu Chen. "He shouldn't have survived this, should he?"
"No," Hui said grimly. "Even with a root and proper technique — this would've crippled most. But somehow, he adapted. Or something adapted for him."
His eyes sharpened. "It was like watching a body being reforged. Slowly. Painfully. Piece by piece."
Qian's voice softened to a whisper. "Will he be alright?"
Doctor Hui didn't answer right away. He pressed his fingers to Lu Chen's neck once more, measuring the faint beat of life.
The qi had stilled. The chaos had ebbed.
"For now," he said at last. "But this path he's walking… it's not safe. It's not stable. If he tries to advance like this again…"
He didn't finish the thought.
Qian rested her hand over Lu Chen's.
She didn't understand the how or the why.
Only that he was still breathing.
Still alive.
For now — that was enough.