Chapter 30

  For the past nine months, Adam had thrown himself into missions with relentless fervor. He barely slept—maybe once a week, if that—and even then, his mind never truly rested. Half his time was spent grinding through beast part collections, rare herb runs, and other non-lethal assignments, while the other half was consumed with one singular obsession:

  Breaking through to the second stage of Foundation Establishment.

  According to Elder Guo, Qi pathways were akin to spiritual circuits. The dantians acted as power supplies—reservoirs of liquid Qi—while the spells, arrays, and techniques were the output devices. But to activate any of them externally, the Qi had to flow through these circuits first. Without them, it was like having a battery without any wires.

  The concept sounded simple enough, but the reality was anything but.

  There were three dantians: upper, middle, and lower. Most cultivators only opened one. Fewer still managed two. And only monsters or geniuses dared to aim for three.

  Adam had all three activated.

  That meant his Qi pathways weren’t just a single system—they were a trifecta, a spiritual mesh that had to interlink all three dantians without overloading or short-circuiting.

  Each dantian had its own nature:

  Upper Dantian: Qi from this source allowed the creation of spells in mid-air, enabling long-range constructs and mental/spiritual techniques.

  Middle Dantian: The heart-core. It gave power to area-based healing spells and strengthened bonds with beast companions—like Red, Adam’s white fox—allowing them to cast his spells even if they held incompatible elemental affinities.

  Lower Dantian: The source of elemental force and physical augmentation. It amplified control, power, and the effective range of elemental manipulation.

  If even one connection was off, the entire network would destabilize. That was why most cultivators picked one dantian and stuck with it.

  But Adam? Adam was never normal.

  He didn't have the luxury of time or talent. So he built his path the only way he knew how—through obsession.

  Every mission he completed brought him a little closer to affording the flying boots he’d commissioned from that eccentric shopkeeper. Red curled up at his side when they rested, her fluffy tail flicking every time Adam scribbled new formation diagrams or meditated in silence.

  It was maddeningly slow.

  And yet, he endured.

  Because when you're walking everywhere on foot, even a stupid enchanted wooden plank starts to look like a treasure.

  [Inside the Eccentric Shopkeeper's Store]

  Adam stepped into the shop, dust still clinging to his robe from yet another beast-wrangling mission. Clutched in his hand: a pouch filled with exactly 1,750 spirit stones.

  Victory.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  As he approached the counter, he noticed a familiar, jade-like figure to the side—her presence as sharp as the sword on her hip.

  Lady Mu

  She looked up. “Tch. It’s you.”

  Adam gave a helpless shrug. “I’m sorry about last time, pretty lady.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “That wasn’t the impression you gave me the first time you saw me.”

  Adam rubbed his chin, eyes drifting thoughtfully. “Hmm... would you believe me if I said I once saw transcendent beauty—and now, every other person I see, all I can notice are imperfections?”

  Mu’s eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t. And screw you.”

  From behind the counter, the shopkeeper let out a delighted ho ho ho, his eyes twinkling. “Am I seeing something special here?”

  Mu snapped her fingers at him like swatting a fly, “You. Stop jumping to your delusional conclusions.”

  “Hehehe, as you say, Lady Mu,” he said with an exaggerated bow. “And here—your commission is ready. I’ve added the high-end defensive formation, just as requested.”

  He handed over a sleek sword wrapped in fine cloth.

  “Give Elder Guo my regards,” the shopkeeper added casually.

  Mu accepted the sword with a nod. “I’ll convey it to Grandpa.”

  Adam blinked. “Oh? Elder Guo is your grandfather? That’s... new information.”

  The shopkeeper squinted at Adam. “Boy, how do you not know that?”

  “Well,” Adam shrugged, “maybe it’s so common around here that no one bothers to mention it.”

  Mu was glaring at him now.

  Adam cleared his throat and changed the topic hastily. “Let me formally introduce myself—Adam, your grandfather’s newest disciple.” He offered a polite half cupped-fist greeting.

  Mu gave a half-hearted bow in return. “Mu Qing Li.”

  “Don’t think you succeeded in changing the topic,” she added. “I just don’t feel like bickering with someone today.”

  “I understand,” Adam nodded. Then turned to the counter. “Shopkeeper, I’ve brought the spirit stones. All 1,750 of them.”

  The shopkeeper clapped. “Good, good! I was beginning to wonder if you’d manage it before the time limit.”

  They began the exchange, the shopkeeper inspecting the pouch of stones with practiced ease.

  Mu glanced over and caught sight of the pair of sleek boots resting on a display pedestal. “What’s that?”

  The shopkeeper beamed. “Ah, those? That’s Adam’s custom commission.”

  “Boots?” she raised a brow.

  “Oh yes,” the shopkeeper said, warming up. “Flying devices usually come in the form of swords, fans, carpets—but these are boots. His idea. Agile, compact, low profile. Makes mid-air maneuvering feel like walking on wind. And,” he added with a grin, “from a distance, people might even mistake him for a Core Formation cultivator.”

  Mu turned to Adam with a skeptical expression. “Flying boots. Really?”

  Adam grinned. “Better than a flying wooden plank, right?”

  Mu paused… then turned away with a click of her tongue.

  The shopkeeper chuckled. “Hehehe… I like this one.”

  As Mu Qing Li turned and walked away, her long hair swayed with each graceful step, sword case slung over her shoulder, presence sharp enough to slice air.

  Both Adam and the shopkeeper watched in silence.

  The shopkeeper slowly turned his head, raising both eyebrows at Adam with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

  Adam sighed, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, stop.”

  The shopkeeper chuckled. “Didn’t say anything.”

  Adam muttered, “Didn’t need to.”

  —

  Adam slipped on the flying boots, securing the final strap.

  Adam – “Let’s see if my nine months of hard work paid off.”

  Just outside the shop, he began slotting in the high-grade Qi batteries. According to the shopkeeper, these were essential—sustaining flight using your own Qi was inefficient over time, especially for long-distance travel.

  As he channeled a touch of intent into the boots, the formation activated with a faint hum.

  And then—he lifted off.

  “Whoa… this is nice. Very nice.”

  He floated smoothly for a moment.

  Then suddenly—acceleration.

  “Why is it gaining speed?! Wait—I can’t stop it!”

  The boots shot him skyward like a rogue firework. In seconds, the buildings shrank below him, clouds zoomed past, and the air thinned.

  “Shit! I gotta stop this! It reads intent, right? So—STOP!!”

  The boots finally responded, slowing to a gentle halt far above the world.

  He hovered in silence.

  Below him stretched mountains, rivers, scattered villages and sprawling cities, all woven together like a living painting.

  “This is… beautiful.”

  A pause.

  Then he looked down.

  “Wait…”

  Gravity tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Fuck.”

  He began plummeting, wind whipping past him as he dropped from nearly twelve miles high.

  “Okay—okay, I’ve got time before I pancake. Just… gotta control this thing. It’s like trying to operate a third arm you didn’t know you had!”

  Adam was falling.

  Fast.

  Wind screamed past his ears. The world spun beneath him in a dizzying blur of green, gray, and blue.

  “Okay. Okay. Not dead yet. Still got time. Just… figure out the controls before I become a crater.”

  He closed his eyes for a split second, feeling the flow of Qi through the boots, the formation responding faintly to his shifting will.

  “Come on… lift… rise…”

  His descent slowed—just a little at first, then more. The boots vibrated subtly under his feet. He wasn’t just falling now—he was gliding.

  A grin tugged at his lips.

  “Oh… ohh, I think I’m getting it.”

  He willed himself sideways, and the boots responded, arcing him through the air in a wide loop. He dove and then pulled up sharply, wind trailing behind him like a phantom ribbon.

  He laughed. Loudly. Freely.

  Loop-de-loops, barrel rolls, wide glides just above the treetops. He darted between clouds like a bird set loose from its cage.

  “So this is what freedom feels like…”

  For the first time in his life, Adam felt something ancient awaken within him—a quiet, buried instinct that all humans shared.

  The desire to fly.

  Not with purpose. Not with pressure. But simply to soar like the birds, to

  ride the wind and chase the clouds with nothing holding him down.

  No fear. No burden. Just him, the sky, and that age-old dream passed down from every earthbound creature that ever looked up.