Third: figure out how to restore my cultivation. I still only have two of my four dragon heads functional—the Fire and Ice elents are gone, drained by that cursed door chanism. Without them, my combat power is reduced by almost half.
Actually, wait. Vogue paused that thought and turned his attention inward, examining his internal cultivation foundation carefully for the first ti since escaping.
What he discovered made his eyes widen in shock for the second ti in as many minutes.
His Fire and Ice origin energies—the fundantal sources that had been completely drained by the door’s absorption chanism—were regenerating.
Slowly, gradually, almost imperceptibly... but definitely regenerating.
My Infinite Regeneration ability, Vogue realized with dawning understanding. It doesn’t just heal physical injuries. It restores anything that’s been damaged or depleted, including cultivation foundation and origin energy!
He focused more carefully on the regeneration process and estimated the rate of recovery. At the current speed, it would take approximately... seven days to fully restore both his Fire and Ice origin energies to their original strength.
Seven days. Just one week, and he would be back to full power with all four dragon heads operational.
That’s incredible, Vogue thought with relief flooding through him. The Klein Family thought they had permanently crippled by using to open that door. They assud I was now weak and helpless, stripped of my dual talents forever. But within a week, I’ll be stronger than ever—and they’ll have no idea.
This changed everything about his tactical situation. He wasn’t permanently weakened. He was just temporarily reduced while his regeneration ability worked in the background.
A cold, calculating smile spread across Vogue’s face as he contemplated the implications.
Mr. Yun, Sir Collins, Family Head Marcus... all of you think you understand what I’m capable of based on what you saw. All of you made your plans and calculations based on incomplete information.
But when we et again—and we will et again eventually—I’ll be at full strength. All nine dragon heads will be awakened. My cultivation will be stabilized at higher levels. And I’ll have had ti to master the techniques and treasures I acquired.
Let’s see how your conspiracies and betrayals serve you then.
Vogue stood up from the moss-covered root and stretched his body, working out the stiffness from prolonged tension. He took several deep breaths of the cool forest air, centering himself and releasing the last remnants of stress and adrenaline.
Then he pulled out his communication device and checked the ti. As expected, it was completely nonfunctional—the dense spiritual energy of the wilderness and the interference from the Saint’s ruin made electronic devices useless this far from civilization.
I need to figure out where I am and plot a route back to the city, Vogue thought pragmatically. But traveling through wilderness at night while weakened is unnecessarily dangerous. Better to rest now, recover energy, and move at first light.
He found a particularly massive tree with a hollow at its base—large enough to shelter him comfortably. After carefully checking the hollow for dangerous spirit beasts or other occupants and finding it safely empty, Vogue settled inside.
He created several clones and positioned them as sentries around the periter, instructed to wake him imdiately if anything approached. Then he allowed himself to finally relax slightly.
As Vogue sat in the darkness of the tree hollow, his mind wandered to thoughts of Gloria. She would be worried by now—he had been gone for over a week on this "expedition" with the Klein Family, and he had no way to send her a ssage to explain the situation.
I hope she’s safe, Vogue thought with genuine concern. With her newly awakened S-Rank healing talent, she’s probably already attracting dangerous attention from people who want to recruit or control her. I need to get back to the city as quickly as possible to make sure she’s alright.
But there was nothing he could do about that tonight. For now, he needed to rest and recover.
Vogue pulled the mysterious bamboo tube artifact from his storage space—the ancient treasure he had claid during the distribution. He still had no idea what it actually did, but examining it might help pass the ti and keep his mind occupied.
He channeled a small thread of spiritual energy into the bamboo tube, trying to activate whatever chanism or technique it contained.
The tube imdiately began glowing with soft green light. Then it suddenly spoke—a recorded voice erged from the artifact, clear and distinct despite three centuries of age:
"Congratulations, inheritor, on acquiring the Verdant Soul Flute. This instrunt was crafted from a ten-thousand-year Skyreach Bamboo and contains thirteen sealed lodies. Each lody, when properly played, can affect the spiritual consciousness of anyone who hears it—from inducing sleep, to creating illusions, to directly attacking the soul.
To activate: channel spiritual energy while pressing the finger holes in specific patterns. Complete instructions for the thirteen lodies are engraved in microscript along the interior surface. Study them carefully, as incorrect performance can damage the user’s own soul.
May this instrunt serve you well in your cultivation journey."
The voice faded away, and the green glow subsided.
Vogue stared at the bamboo flute in his hands with renewed interest. A soul-attacking musical artifact with thirteen different techniques. That’s actually quite valuable—especially since most cultivators have relatively weak soul defenses compared to their physical protections.
I’ll need to study this carefully once I have proper ti and safety. Learning to use it effectively could give a significant tactical advantage.
He carefully stored the flute back in his storage space and then pulled out the blue gourd he had taken from Brother Long’s frozen corpse.
The gourd was surprisingly heavy for its small size—about the weight of a lon despite being only fist-sized. When Vogue channeled spiritual energy into it, he could feel it contained so kind of lightning-based attack technique.
Another useful tool, Vogue catalogued. Between the flute, the gourd, my existing techniques, and my dragon abilities once they’re fully restored, my combat options are becoming quite diverse.
Satisfied with his inventory assessnt, Vogue finally allowed himself to settle into ditation. He focused his awareness on his internal world—the vast space that had ford when he integrated the Creation Seed.
The world was stable and peaceful. The four elental regions pulsed with energy. The crimson ocean lapped gently at the shores. And deep in the core, his dragon physique slumbered, slowly regenerating the depleted Fire and Ice aspects.
Everything is progressing well, Vogue confird. My foundation is solid. My abilities are growing. I just need ti and safety to consolidate my gains.
He thought about Snowflake—the mysterious white chicken that had hatched from the golden egg and was currently residing in his internal world. The creature was probably fine, safely stored away in the gentle region where it couldn’t get into trouble.
I should check on it once I’m back in the city, Vogue made a ntal note. The creature showed unusual abilities even as a hatchling. With proper nurturing using my divine blood, it might evolve into sothing genuinely powerful.
As Vogue’s thoughts began drifting toward sleep, his consciousness gradually relaxing, one final realization struck him.
He had a ssage waiting from Valor University. His admission had been processed, and he was expected to attend the entrance examination in approximately... three days? Four days? He had lost track of exact ti during the expedition.
I need to make it back to the city within the next few days, Vogue calculated. The entrance exam is important—it represents my official entry into legitimate cultivation society rather than just underground dealings and dangerous expeditions.
Plus, being enrolled at Valor University will provide so asure of protection from casual assassination attempts. Even the Klein Family will think twice about openly attacking a registered student of the most prestigious cultivation academy in the region.
With that comforting thought, Vogue finally allowed true sleep to claim him.
But tonight, exhausted from combat and flight and too many shocking revelations, Vogue simply slept.
—-
anwhile, hundreds of kiloters away in the depths of the Saint’s ruin, a very different scene was unfolding.
Family Head Marcus lay on the cold stone floor of the Jadepier Pavilion’s second level, his body broken and bleeding, his golden armor shattered in a dozen places.
Around him stood the survivors of the conspiracy: Mr. Yun, Sir Collins, Madam Violet, and the tan cultivator. All of them bore injuries from the brutal combat, but they had ultimately prevailed through numbers and coordination.
Sean knelt beside his dying father, tears streaming down his face, desperately trying to channel healing energy into wounds that were too severe to be saved.
"Father, please," Sean sobbed. "Please don’t die. I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were planning this. I didn’t know—"
Marcus raised one trembling hand and placed it gently on his son’s head. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper:
"Not... your fault... Sean. You were... used... just like that boy. But you... survived. That’s what... matters."
He coughed, blood flecking his lips. "Listen... carefully. The jade boxes... are empty. Already... looted. Yun took everything... sohow when we were all distracted. This was all... misdirection."
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