"Even though you're now a Martial Adept, even a mere Martial Initiate could easily defeat you," Old Bao said.
Aladdin frowned. "I thought you said people of lower levels are weaker than those above them. So how is that possible?"
"Better cultivation techniques, stronger physiques, purer essence, superior combat skills, rare bloodlines, and real battle experience," Old Bao replied calmly. "You have none of those."
"You'll have to temper your body further and stabilize your foundation before breaking through to the next level," Old Bao continued. "You can do that by gathering and refining more essence, learning proper combat skills, and engaging in real life-and-death battles—not just training. Only then can you become truly unrivaled within your generation."
"Then... can you teach me, Old Bao?" Aladdin asked.
"This place is far more dangerous than you realize. Even I find it hard to protect myself here," Old Bao said, shaking his head. "You'll need to leave Kunlun Mountain."
"But like you said—this is a world where the strong are respected and the weak are trampled. If I leave without proper accumulation, I'll just become someone else's stepping stone," Aladdin said seriously.
Old Bao went quiet for a moment, then sighed. "You're not wrong. But staying here means constant danger. Your life will always be on the edge."
"Then it's exactly what I need," Aladdin said firmly. "If I want real experience, then what better place than this?"
Old Bao looked at him thoughtfully. He's just arrived in the Xuanlan Continent. He knows nothing of our world... and he looks so different from us, he'll attract attention wherever he goes. Sending him out of Kunlun Mountain now would be the same as sending him to his death.
Finally, Old Bao spoke. "Fine. You can stay here for one year. Just one year—then you'll have to leave the mountain."
"Okay. Thanks, Old Bao," Aladdin said gratefully.
They continued eating under the tree's shade as Old Bao patiently began explaining the ways of the world.
*****
The Next Day
"The most important thing for you now is to temper your body," Old Bao said as they stood in a clearing bathed in morning light. "It's strange… but what saved your life, even after consuming the entire Whispering Wind Melon, was your naturally strong physique. Most cultivators can only dream of a body like that. If you continue to temper it, you'll build a foundation others can't match."
He paused, then added with a serious look, "But it's not just your body—you'll need to temper your mind as well. In grave situations, if your will isn't strong, you could lose control and go berserk."
Old Bao sat cross-legged, motioning for Aladdin to do the same. "You must absorb essence daily through cultivation. Gather it, refine it. It's time you learn the basic techniques."
---
Six Months Later
In the half-year that followed, Aladdin trained relentlessly under Old Bao's guidance. Day by day, he tempered his body—running, lifting, striking stone dummies until his knuckles bled and healed again. He learned to absorb essence from the environment and from spirit stones, channeling it through his meridians and stabilizing his cultivation.
Old Bao sparred with him almost daily. Though the old man held back, he was never gentle. Aladdin often walked away with bruises, cuts, and sometimes even broken ribs—but he never complained. His resilience grew alongside his strength.
He had chosen the saber as his weapon—sleek, fierce, and direct. It suited him well. Over time, it became more than just a tool; it became his companion.
Now, he could take down a Rank 2 spirit beast on his own. His cultivation realm was still at Martial Adept, but it was firm and stable—far more than it had been months ago.
And Aladdin was no longer the same boy who had woken up dazed and confused on that mountain
---
Aladdin sat beneath the shade of an old tree, the metallic sound of a whetstone scraping against his saber echoing softly through the forest. His gaze was distant, lost in thought. Even after six months in the Xuanlan Continent—after all the battles, near-death experiences, and grueling training—his heart still wandered back to Aghrabah.
He thought of his mother.
He remembered her worn hands, her tired eyes, the warmth of her embrace… and the pain in her voice the last time they spoke. A pang of guilt tightened in his chest. I was unfilial, he thought. I should've listened. I should've stayed. Now, more than anything, he wanted to grow stronger—not for glory, not for power—but to see her again, to ask for forgiveness, and to take care of her the way she once did for him.
This Aladdin was no longer the carefree street boy who dreamed only of marrying a princess or finding riches. Six months in this ruthless world had reshaped him. He had learned humility. He had learned that love, family, and protecting those dear to you were worth far more than gold or crowns.
Today, he was on a mission—his first real solo task. Old Bao had sent him to retrieve a Thunderroot Camellia flower from Arkania Valley, a place notorious for violent thunderstorms, roaming demonic beasts, and dangerous spatial cracks that tore through the land.
But Aladdin wasn't afraid.
In fact, he was excited.
For the first time, he would unleash the full might of the techniques he'd honed under Old Bao's merciless guidance. His Dragon Fang Fist, capable of shattering bones with sheer force. His saber technique, Stormbreaker Slash, which tore through enemies like a raging tempest. And his defensive art, Whirling Saber, a spiraling guard that could deflect even the fiercest of blows.
Training against Old Bao had become predictable. The old man held back. There was no true danger. No true chaos. And Aladdin craved that chaos now. He wanted to test his strength—not in drills, but in life-and-death combat.
In these past months, he'd also discovered something incredible. The magic lamp—once a physical object—had become part of him. It had fused with his very being, enhancing his body beyond the limits of ordinary cultivators. His senses were sharper. His strength, more refined. And his spirit… it felt unbreakable.
It was the lamp that had saved his life when he consumed the entire Whispering Wind Melon without a single cultivation foundation. Whatever powers it held were still a mystery—but it was clear now: the lamp was the key to something greater.
And now, that key pulsed quietly within him as he stood up, sheathing his saber.
"Let's see what you're made of, Arkania Valley," he murmured, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
---