Reborn as a Demonic Tree - Chapter 349: Beast Core
Sam covered his face with his drenched robes in a poor attempt to shield his eyes from the intense storm. The main street of Ashfallen City, which had been bustling with life when he arrived here a week ago, was now nearly vacant. Few dared to move around in this winter storm that had only gotten worse with every day that passed. The freezing rain seemed to come from every direction, and if not for the Qi he was cycling through his body to keep the chill from seeping deep into his bones, he might have suffered frostbite within minutes.
Can my old man even protect the harvest from this? Sam thought as he plodded through the freezing mud toward his temporary home, which he was sharing with others while waiting for the tournament to start.
We were mere weeks away from the last big harvest of the year, but even Qi-enhanced crops would struggle to survive this storm. If the farmers’ crops die over the winter season, things will get really ugly.
Sam wouldn’t have been so worried if the Ashfallen Sect hadn’t been buying up every last crop to feed the growing population of Ashfallen City. It had been lucrative for the farmers, but little crops were left in storage for freak events like this.
Whatever, the fate of the farm is no longer my concern. Sam balled his fists, which were numb and red from the cold. My sole focus is advancing my cultivation and winning this tournament to impress my master.How can the life of a farmer compare to that of a cultivator anyway? Why would I want to live as a slave to the land when I can defy the heavens and soar through the skies?
Lofty dreams, he had to admit. But he was hopeful. Ever since the service to the All-Seeing Eye, his cultivation progress had exploded to the 9th stage of the Qi Realm. His rapid progress through the stages was a perfect combination of his master’s gift opening his spirit roots, getting access to a cultivation technique and free resources through the cult, and the insight he received the night of the service after watching Stella annihilate dozens of cultivators more powerful than he could ever imagine being with a snap of her finger. He supplemented all these advantages with intense cultivation, where he would keep going until he fainted from hunger.
Yet despite this explosive progress, he couldn’t help but feel bitter. Before his master returned to gift him the truffle, he had tried this hard for months yet seen no results. All that had changed between now and then was his access to resources. He had once looked up to cultivators, but this realization that resources overshadowed effort lessened his respect for them. It also soured his motivation to train whenever he pondered how different his life would have been if he had been born to a noble cultivator family rather than to a poor farmer. Would he have to train to the brink of death every day if he had the wealth of a noble family behind him?
He doubted it. But what could he do? These were the cards he had been dealt, and he would make the most of them. A sudden feeling of nearby spiritual pressure broke Sam out of his bitter thoughts. Looking to the other side of the street, he saw a middle-aged woman moving through the rain with skin so white he had to double-check she wasn’t a ghost.
No, that’s definitely a person.
She was one of the most beautiful people Sam had ever laid eyes on. Although his Master still held the crown for her youthful beauty, this woman exuded a commanding presence that captured his attention. Her purposeful and unbothered gait through the mud made her seem like a true noble, untouched by the world around her. Her pristine white cloak, trimmed with fluffy fur, clung elegantly to her figure, and she was decorated with incredibly expensive-looking and well-made jewelry, and her fingers sparkled with a collection of spatial rings.
In comparison, Sam looked like a dirty beggar with his drenched and dirtied cloak from the mud he had waded through on his journey back from the Ashfallen Trading Company’s building. There, he exchanged some crowns for a bottle of Body Strengthening Pills, as he had been falling behind on his physical training in favor of progressing his soul.
Sam didn’t understand how she was so unfazed by the storm until he noticed the rain was bouncing off subtle blue soul flames flicking across her body.
A water cultivator? If she possesses an affinity and can bring forth soul flames, she must be in the Soul Fire Realm. Sam thought as he stood rooted in place, and his head slowly swiveled to watch the cultivator casually walk through a storm that would be lethal to most mortals. Of course, there’s a chance she’s in the Star Core Realm, but I heard from others who have had the honor, or horror, of seeing a Star Core cultivator in the flesh say they usually always have an overbearing pressure surrounding them that makes the world bow to them.
The cultivator paused and tilted her head toward him as if sensing his gaze.
“See something you like, boy?”
Despite the roaring wind and the distance separating them, the cultivator’s words effortlessly reached his ears through the rain as if she were whispering right into his ear. Her tone was soft and aloof, but even from here, Sam could feel the coldness in her eyes and the prickle of bloodlust. He had messed up.
“I was just enchanted by your power, mistress,” Sam shouted and discarded all pride as he threw himself into a ninety-degree bow. The freezing rain pierced his back like icicles, and water dripped onto the mud below from his blonde hair, which stuck to his face. His whole body was tense as his muscles hardened by training turned rock solid. If the cultivator wanted him to stay here as a living statue, he would. The memory of the Winterwrath cultivator killing a miner still sometimes haunted him at night, and he refused to suffer a similar fate. Cultivators were not to be messed with.
“Mortals should keep their eyes on the dirt where they belong,” the woman said, but she didn’t sound angry. No, she found amusement in tormenting a lesser. “Don’t you agree?”
Sam went to reply when his eyes widened. What was he doing? While their level was clearly different, he wasn’t a mortal anymore. Bowing in respect was one thing, but groveling at another cultivator’s feet made no sense when he was also a cultivator. He had trained so hard to escape this fate!
This woman must have mistaken me for a mortal because I kept my Qi internally to keep my body warm. Once she sees I am a cultivator, she will surely apologize and treat me with the respect a cultivator demands.
“Whether I agree or not doesn’t matter,” Sam said confidently as he straightened his back and met her amused gaze, “Because I’m a cultivator.” He pulled on the untamed Qi stored inside his soul and let it cycle through his muscles.
The woman blinked in disbelief before losing her ethereal composure and burst out laughing, “You’re in the Qi Realm and call yourself a cultivator? Is this some childish joke?”
Sam was taken aback. He hadn’t expected such a response. “I meditate the heavens whisper. How am I not a cultiva—” The woman vanished in the rain and reappeared before him in an instant. A blue flame palm came out of the corner of his vision, followed by intense pain as it slammed him in the cheek, and his world spun as he went flying.
What… just happened?
Eating a face full of wet mud, Sam groaned as he pushed his body up and kneeled over on all fours. He had double vision and felt nauseous. Spitting on the ground, he saw a blurry puddle of red decorated with a few of his teeth that had been knocked out of his mouth.
“Still think you’re a cultivator, or did that knock some sense into you?” The woman’s haunted laughter echoed in his ears. “Keep your head down next time, mortal. Lest you earn the ire of someone less forgiving than me.”
Barely managing to look over his shoulder, he saw the woman continue her unbothered stroll toward the Ashfallen Trading Company’s main building, looming in the distance. That was the only reason a cultivator of her caliber would be here: to purchase pills or to register for the upcoming tournament—maybe even both.
Whatever her reason, she had thankfully decided that almost breaking his neck was enough punishment for looking in her direction. Sam lay in the mud for a long time, with dark thoughts swimming through his disorientated mind.
Soon, his warm tears joined the rain streaking down his cheeks. He didn’t even know who or what to aim his frustration at. Should he be mad at himself for not being strong enough or for being foolish enough to talk back to a superior cultivator? Or should he direct his anger outwards, onto that woman for hitting him or the people who raised her to be such a bitch.
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“Nobody cares about you,” Sam spat more blood, and if not for the rain numbing his cheek, he was sure he would be in a lot of pain right now. “You’re just a farmer’s son who dared to dream of something more.” His fingers dug into the mud as he tried and failed to contain his anger.
Eventually, he staggered to his feet and began to trudge through the mud toward his home. Lost in bitter thoughts, he turned a corner off the main street and limped past rows of almost identical stone homes. The dirt roads had turned into rivers of mud that clamped to his feet, and the rain was so intense that it obscured everything in fog. Due to his intense headache and the conditions, he took a few wrong turns until he finally found the right road.
“I think this is it,” Sam stood before a house that looked the same as any other. The only identifiable feature was three blood-red lines streaking across the wood like a claw scratch. A rather ominous symbol he had asked brother Hugo about before, but the guy had always avoided the topic. Sliding the bolt, the hefty wooden door flew inwards before Sam could react due to the ferocious winds. He winced as it slammed into the wall with a bang.
“Who the fuck—” A voice thundered from within. The hairs on the back of Sam’s neck prickled as a spiritual pressure washed over him, and he saw the vague figure of a large man wreathed in dark brown soul flames climb up from the basement.
“It’s me, Hugo!” Sam shouted over the roaring winds.
“Sam?! What in the nine realms are you standing around for? Close the door, you fool; you’re letting all the rain in!”
“Oh right—sorry.” Sam stepped inside and attempted to close the door behind him. The intense winds made the door creak on its hinges, and it felt like trying to push a boulder up a hill. Gritting his teeth as Hugo stood there glaring at him, he expended a little of his stored Qi to empower his muscles and almost fell forward with how easily the door closed once he used his Qi.
I’m really not a cultivator. Sam thought as he bolted the door closed. I almost lost a fight to a door.
“You’re back late. Run into some trouble?” Hugo asked.
Sam stood there for a moment, frozen in place. His pride was in the dumps, and he just wanted to crawl into a hole and die rather than show his beaten and broken self to Hugo. This gentle giant of a man had offered him a place to sleep for the next week, and then they would enter the tournament together. Apparently, he had been part of a gang back in Darklight City and had moved here for a better life and a new start to calm his mind and quell something he called heart demons. Or at least that was his reasoning for being willing to take in a random lost kid.
“I…” Sam tensed as a strong hand clamped on his shoulder and slowly turned him around.
Sam looked at Hugo’s concerned face and gave him a weary, bloodstained smile, “I did run into some trouble.”
“Woah, you’re messed up, brother! Who was it?” Hugo said as if impressed by how crap he looked, “The Iron Fist Brotherhood? The Blood Blades? Maybe the Savage Boar Gang?”
“No, none of those rogue cultivator groups.” Sam shook his head. Hugo had described these groups when telling stories of his time in Darklight City. He had been part of the Iron Fist Brotherhood. A small group of mostly earth cultivators were known to be ruthless and cause a lot of property damage while fighting.
“The Enforcers?”
Sam knew that was the name others gave the group run by the tyrant Mister Choi from the mines. While a large and influential group of rogue cultivators, everyone knew they were under orders from the Redclaws. He shook his head, doubting that the cultivator that slapped him had been part of that group.
Hugo’s eyes narrowed, “You didn’t anger the Redclaws, did you? Because if you did, even I can’t save you.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “Everyone knows they answer straight to the All-Seeing Eye, and there is no escaping that god’s gaze. Run to another Sect, and they will still find you.”
Sam kept that in mind but shook his head. The Redclaws rarely sought out trouble anymore and simply strode around like they owned the place—or at least they had on the day he arrived before the storm started. It seemed they disliked the freezing rain, as he hadn’t seen one of those red-haired nobles in days.
Hugo sighed in relief, knowing he hadn’t dared to anger the ruling noble family of this region. “Mhm, if it isn’t any of those. Did you get hit by a stray attack from the Princess?”
Sam knew that was the name the people of Ashfallen City gave his Master. She had a ruthless reputation, known for slaughtering people she deemed an eyesore with ease. While the cult of the All-Seeing Eye was seen as benevolent, people didn’t dare take advantage of them as the Princess was the cult’s head priestess. Anything run by her couldn’t possibly be tolerant of enemies.
“No, I haven’t seen the Princess,” he replied but refrained from calling Stella his ‘Master’ because, after hearing her reputation, he thought it best to keep his relationship with her a secret. With a sigh, he decided to stop avoiding the topic. He had to come clean about the humiliation.
Hugo’s grin grew as he explained what happened earlier without missing out on a single detail.
“Welcome to the club, kid.” Hugo patted his shoulder enthusiastically and laughed.
“The club?”
Hugo pulled his lips apart and proudly showed off his crooked and gap-filled teeth, “Exact same shit happened to me. I thought I was a tough guy before another cultivator put me in my place. Don’t look so down, brother; getting slapped about builds character.”
“Uhm…” Sam had once again not expected this reaction. He thought he would get laughed at or scolded by Hugo and called a fool. Instead, he felt welcomed into a brotherhood of other cultivators who had been beaten to a pulp before.
“She ain’t wrong, though.” Hugo pulled away his hand, and his tone turned more serious. “It’s not that you aren’t a cultivator, Sam. It’s just that you might as well be a mortal in her eyes. The difference in power between realms only gets more extreme the further you ascend. To you, she seemed powerful, right?
Sam nodded. His face still stung, and he hadn’t even had time to react to her attack. If he hadn’t been tensing his muscles and flexing his cultivation at that moment, that slap would have snapped his neck, and he would be dead right now.
“Well, as a fellow Soul Fire Realm cultivator, let me tell you, we are basically mortals in the eyes of Star Core Realms. It’s all a matter of perspective.” Hugo rubbed his chin for a moment and smirked as an idea seemed to come to him. “You said she was heading toward the Ashfallen Trading Company’s building, right? I bet she will register for the tournament. How about you get revenge on her at the tournament?”
“How?” Sam frowned, “I’m stuck at the peak of the Qi Realm, and there’s no way I can gather enough Qi to push myself to form a Soul Core before the tournament starts.”
Hugo reached into his pocket, as he couldn’t afford a spatial ring, and revealed a black rock. Qi wafted from it, which felt slightly off as if it were tainted.
“What’s that?” Sam asked, taking a step back.
“This is a beast core, fresh from a peak Soul Fire Realm monster. If you absorb all the Qi from it, I bet you can make it to the Soul Fire Realm.”
Sam gulped. “Is it safe? The Qi coming from it feels weird.”
Hugo chuckled, “Safe? Of course, it is. I’ve absorbed many during my life, and look at me, I’m fine, aren’t I?” He held it out, and Sam subconsciously reached to take it. The stone was cold and he felt a little ill holding it.
“It’s expensive, you know?” Hugo said and patted him on the shoulder, “I was going to use it to get a quick boost before the tournament, but I think you need it more than me. I doubt you will get far if you’re stuck in the Qi Realm without an affinity.”
Sam bit his lip. Hugo was right. While his Master’s disciple had appeared to be in the Qi Realm like him, there was no guarantee she hadn’t already advanced to the Soul Fire Realm with all the resources she likely had access to.
“Thank you,” Sam said, bowing to Hugo. The man had not only somehow managed to lift his spirits after being humbled but had given him a new path to power.
After some rest, Sam headed back into the storm and trekked his way up the mountain, past the Slymere noble area and as close to White Stone Peak as he dared to go. He wasn’t sure why, but the closer he got to Red Vine Peak, the purer the Qi felt and the easier it was to listen to heaven’s whispers.
Hanging up his drenched cloak on a branch, Sam sat in his damp underwear on an exposed root under a cluster of demonic trees for shelter. Shivering from the cold, he stared at the beast core in his hands for a long time.
Hugo seemed mostly alright, but surely absorbing the Qi from a monster is a bad idea? But at this rate, I will just get beaten up at the tournament if I don’t advance to the next realm. That woman showed me that I can’t bridge the gap between realms with technique or determination alone. I didn’t even have time to react before I almost died.
Gritting his teeth, he opened his soul to the strange Qi and began absorbing it. Black miasma surged out of the stone, through his pure spirit roots, and reached his soul. He threw his head back in pure ecstasy as the Qi rapidly poured into and expanded his soul. Within an hour, the rock became dim, as almost all the Qi that had once belonged to a peak Soul Fire Realm beast was now assimilated into his soul.
Checking his body, he couldn’t see anything obviously wrong. There was a slight build-up of some miasma in his spirit roots, but he was sure that would clear out with time.
“Okay, time to form a Soul Core.” Sam hyped himself up. Closing his eyes, he entered his deep consciousness, and in the serene darkness of his mind, he could feel himself surrounded by heaven-woven reality.
Presented with seemingly endless Qi types to try and cultivate, he mentally reached out and pulled on the earth Qi below him. It was Hugo who had told him he likely had an affinity to earth Qi due to his stubborn personality to keep training, his tough body, and, embarrassingly, his life spent on the farm.
He had never considered earth Qi much, but after Hugo’s advice, he gave it more attention and noticed that he felt a kinship with the affinity when he listened to heaven’s whispers.
Throughout the night, he carefully cycled earth Qi through his spirit roots, turning the untamed raw Qi in his soul a slightly dark brown. By morning, Sam was drenched in both rain and sweat as his Soul Core finished forming.
It wasn’t stable or perfect. But Sam now had an affinity and, more importantly, was in the same realm as that bitch who had humbled him and should be equal to or better than his Master’s favored disciple.
I can’t believe it! I really made it to the Soul Fire Realm in time, and it’s all thanks to Hugo giving me that beast core. I wonder how I can get more of those?
Standing up, he was eager to test his newfound strength. Brown soul flames flickered to life across his foot, and with a simple stamp, the ground fractured in a line down the mountainside for many meters. This power from an affinity couldn’t compare to wielding untamed Qi.
The tournament should be starting soon. Sam thought as he looked through the heavy rain at the Ashfallen Trading Company’s building, a megastructure of black stone looming over Ashfallen City.
I better get going.