The night air was crisp, biting at exposed skin with the chill of the mountain. Mingzhi stood at the edge of the muddy ditch near his family's field— the exact spot where, just days ago, he had bled into the mud, too weak even to curse.”

  He looked down at the mud. It looked the same as it always had—grey, sticky, and unforgiving. But he was different.

  He gripped the heavy iron pry-bar in his hand. The metal was cold and rough against his calloused palm. It wasn't a sword; it was a tool for leverage. But in the hands of an engineer, leverage was a weapon.

  "Spirit," Mingzhi whispered mentally, his breath forming a small cloud in the air. "Where is the fluctuation?"

  “North,” the Spirit replied calmly. “About one hundred and fifty meters. The distortion lies in a natural depression beneath heavy canopy.”

  Mingzhi nodded. He stepped away from the safety of the fields and pushed into the dense undergrowth.

  The forest here was old. The trees twisted into gnarly shapes, their roots rising from the ground like knobby knees. The canopy blocked out most of the moonlight, turning the world into a landscape of charcoal shadows and rustling leaves.

  Mingzhi moved carefully. He didn't have the stealth skills of a hunter, but he had the Earth Seed. With every step, he sent a tiny pulse of Qi into the soles of his feet, feeling the density of the ground before he put his weight on it. He didn't snap twigs; he stepped over them.

  He walked for ten minutes until the trees opened up.

  He stepped into a clearing.

  It looked empty. Just a patch of rocky ground overgrown with weeds, surrounded by a ring of silent pines. It was unremarkable—the kind of place a woodcutter would walk past a thousand times without glancing at twice.

  "I see nothing," Mingzhi muttered, scanning the rocks. "It looks like normal stone."

  "Your physical eyes are deceived by the light-bending properties of the perimeter," the Spirit explained. "Allow me to overlay my Divine Sense onto your optic nerve."

  A faint, cool sensation washed over Mingzhi’s left eye. It felt like a drop of menthol water. He blinked, and the world shifted.

  The air above the rocks wasn't empty. It was shimmering, distorting the light like a heat mirage over a summer road. The "weeds" blurred, revealing themselves to be elaborate illusions masking a dark, gaping cave entrance. The rocks weren't random; they were arranged in a precise, geometric pattern that hummed with a low-frequency vibration.

  "The Five-Phases Rebirth Array," the Spirit murmured. There was a note of deep, heavy emotion in its voice—a mixture of respect and grief. "This specific configuration... it utilizes the endless cycle of the elements to repair itself. It was my former Master's favorite method of seclusion. He used this type of array really often."

  Mingzhi approached the edge of the shimmer cautiously.

  "So this is similar to the ones he used to set up." he whispered thoughtfully.

  "Yes. The fluctuation is unstable, suggesting the power source is degrading after centuries. However, the defensive mechanism remains active. Do not underestimate it."

  "Let's test it," Mingzhi said.

  He wasn't foolish enough to attack it. He just wanted to gauge the reaction speed. He channeled a tiny thread of his Earth Qi—no more than a hair's width—into his hand. He reached out, his finger inching toward the shimmering wall.

  He barely brushed the surface.

  BOOM!

  The reaction was instantaneous and violent.

  The Array didn't just block him; it repulsed the foreign Earth Qi with a concentrated shockwave. It felt like being punched in the chest by an invisible giant.

  Mingzhi was thrown backward. He flew ten feet through the air and crashed into the trunk of a pine tree.

  "Gah!" The breath was knocked out of him. He slid down the bark, gasping, clutching his chest. The sound of the blast echoed through the silent forest like a thunderclap, rolling down the valley.

  "Careful!" the Spirit warned, though it was too late. "It rejects all probing. The array interprets foreign Qi as an invasion and expels it."

  Mingzhi groaned, pushing himself up. "You could have mentioned the 'expel' part sooner."

  CRUNCH.

  A heavy, snapping sound came from the darkness of the treeline to his right.

  Mingzhi froze. That wasn't the array. That was the sound of thick wood breaking under a heavy hoof. The blast had attracted something.

  He turned slowly, raising the iron bar.

  Emerging from the shadows was a nightmare of muscle and bristle. An Iron-Hide Boar.

  It was massive, reaching Mingzhi’s chest in height. Its skin wasn't like normal animal hide; it gleamed with a dark, metallic sheen, as if the beast had rolled in molten iron. Its tusks were jagged yellow daggers, curved and lethal. Its small eyes burned with a feral red light.

  It scraped its hoof against the ground, snorting a cloud of steam into the cold air.

  "Spirit Beast," the Spirit analyzed instantly. "Comparable to Cloud Gathering Level 4. Its hide is reinforced by natural Metal Qi. It is impervious to normal steel. Mingzhi, retreat is advised."

  Mingzhi looked at the beast. Level 4. Many levels higher than him. And unlike him, it was a killing machine born in the wild.

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  But Mingzhi gripped his iron bar tighter. The humiliation of the Wang brothers still burned in his gut. I have a Seed now. I have the Spirit. If I run from a pig, how will I face the Sect?

  "I want to try," he whispered.

  The boar didn't wait for permission. With a squeal of rage, it charged.

  It moved terrifyingly fast for something so heavy. The ground shook.

  Mingzhi waited. He didn't use Qi yet. He wanted to test his physical strength, enhanced by the passive nourishment of the Earth Seed.

  He swung the iron bar.

  CLANG!

  The bar connected with the boar’s shoulder. It didn't sound like hitting flesh; it sounded like striking a church bell.

  The bar vibrated violently in Mingzhi’s hands, the shockwave traveling up his arms and numbing his fingers instantly. The boar barely flinched. It shoved its shoulder forward, knocking Mingzhi aside.

  Mingzhi rolled, scrambling to his feet. He shook his hands, trying to get the feeling back.

  "It's like hitting an iron plate," he cursed. "The skin is too thick."

  The boar turned, squealing in frustration. It scraped the earth again, preparing for a second charge.

  Mingzhi’s eyes narrowed. Brute force won't work. I need power.

  He dropped the iron bar. It hit the dirt with a thud.

  He clenched his right hand into a fist. He focused on his Dantian. He began to draw a massive amount of Earth Qi from his Golden Seed, intending to flood his arm for a crushing blow.

  "Stop!" the Spirit shouted in his mind, its voice cutting through his focus like a knife. "Do not draw Qi! Your Seed has just formed! If you channel that much power for a strike, the internal pressure will collapse the Seed structure! You will cripple yourself!"

  "Although, you formed a Perfect Seed," the Spirit added urgently, "so you can use a minimal amount of Qi! That is a Level 4 beast. Your low level impact will not pierce it! You will only break your hand!"

  Mingzhi’s eyes widened. He was mid-stride, preparing to punch.

  He abandoned the attack. He threw himself to the side, jumping away at the last second. The boar thundered past, its tusk missing his ribs by mere inches. The wind of its passing ruffled his hair.

  "You should have said that before!" he grunted angrily.

  Mingzhi scrambled up and ran back to his iron bar, snatching it from the ground.

  "Okay," he panted, backing away. "Minimal Qi. Just for the feet. Physics over power."

  The boar turned. It had missed twice. Now, it was truly angry. Its red eyes locked onto Mingzhi. It lowered its head.

  It charged.

  Mingzhi watched its feet.

  Earth Stomp.

  He channeled a tiny, precise thread of Qi into his sole—just enough to disturb the soil structure without draining his Seed. He slammed his foot down.

  The hard-packed earth beneath the boar instantly liquefied into quicksand.

  Squelch.

  The boar’s front hooves sank. The sudden loss of traction broke its momentum. It stumbled, pitching forward, its neck exposed.

  Mingzhi jumped.

  He swung the iron bar with everything he had, adding gravity to the strike.

  WHAM.

  The bar slammed into the back of the boar’s neck.

  The bar bent.

  The boar grunted, dazed by the impact but not bleeding. Its skin was simply too tough. It shook its massive head, ripping its legs out of the mud with a spray of dirt. It lashed out sideways with a tusk, blind and furious.

  Mingzhi tried to backstep, but he was too close.

  Rip.

  The tusk caught his calf. Trousers tore. Skin split. Pain flared hot and white.

  Mingzhi stumbled back, his leg bleeding. He looked at the iron bar in his hand. It was bent at a thirty-degree angle.

  "Useless," the Spirit stated. "You cannot kill it with blunt force."

  Mingzhi limped backward, breathing hard. The pain in his leg sharpened his mind. He looked at the angry beast. He looked at the shimmering, deadly Array behind him.

  A cold calculation formed in his mind.

  "I can't kill it," Mingzhi whispered. "But that doesn’t mean I can’t use other things to do it."

  He stomped the ground again—Quicksand.

  But this time, when the boar stumbled, he didn't aim for the neck. He swung the bent bar in a rapid rhythm.

  Clang-Clang-Clang!

  He hit the boar repeatedly on the hard shell of its skull. He wasn't trying to pierce. He was creating resonance. The vibrations rattled the beast's brain inside its skull.

  The boar shook its head, stumbling sideways, its eyes losing focus. It was dizzy.

  Mingzhi turned and ran. Ignoring the pain in his leg, he sprinted straight toward the shimmering Array.

  He stopped just two feet from the invisible wall. He could feel the terrifying energy radiating from it. He turned around.

  He banged the iron bar against a rock.

  "COME ON, BACON! I'M HERE!"

  The boar roared. The dizziness faded into blind rage. It saw the small human standing trapped against the cliff. It lowered its head. It didn't care about the trap; it only wanted to crush the thing that had hit it.

  It launched itself.

  Mingzhi stood his ground. He watched the beast grow larger. He could smell the rancid breath.

  3... 2...

  He kicked up a cloud of dust into the boar's eyes.

  1!

  He dropped.

  He collapsed his knees, rolled to the left side a few times, then stayed in the dirt, flattening his body against the earth like a stone.

  The boar couldn't stop. It flew past him.

  THUD.

  It slammed head-first into the Five-Phases Rebirth Array.

  The air rippled violently.

  The Array flashed with a blinding green light. A massive pulse of rejection energy fired from the barrier. It didn't explode; it was a concentrated shockwave designed to repel intruders.

  The boar’s nervous system shut down instantly. Its eyes rolled back. The red light extinguished.

  It slumped to the ground, dead. Its heart had been stopped by the impact, but its body was intact.

  Mingzhi lay panting in the dirt, staring at the massive carcass.

  "Is it...?"

  "Deceased," the Spirit confirmed. "The impact shockwave scrambled its internal organs. The materials—skin, tusks, blood—are perfectly preserved."

  Mingzhi dragged himself up, wincing as his torn leg protested. He looked at the beast. It was a trophy. Resources. Money.

  "Perfect," he whispered.

  He touched the boar.

  Store.

  He pushed his Qi. The massive beast vanished, sucked into the grey void of his Eye Space.

  He turned to look at the shimmering wall. The Array hummed, indifferent to the life it had just taken.

  "Spirit," Mingzhi asked, wiping sweat from his brow. "I know nothing about Arrays. How do we open this without getting killed like that pig?"

  "There are methods," the Spirit said. "Brute force is impossible for you. Destruction of nodes carries a risk of explosion. The only safe way is Deciphering—understanding the flow of the Five Elements and inserting a key to pause the cycle."

  "However," the Spirit continued, "you lack the materials to build Array Flags, you lack the knowledge and you lack the strength to survive the backlash if you fail. We cannot open this now."

  Mingzhi nodded. He looked at his bleeding leg. He looked at the bent iron bar.

  "I need materials and training," he listed. "I need Array Flags. I need a weapon that doesn't bend. And I need to get stronger."

  He turned away from the Array. The things hidden inside were close, but they were behind a door he couldn't unlock.

  "The Sect Selection," Mingzhi said, his voice firm. "That is the priority. We train. We layer the Seed. Then we come back when we can surely get inside."

  He bandaged his leg and limped into the forest, heading home. He was leaving for now without achieving his goal, but he was leaving alive and gained something unexpected. And he had a plan.

  When he got home, he laid down on his bed and immediately fell asleep. Exhaustion dragged him under the moment his head touched the pillow. Pain, fear, and triumph blurred together, and sleep claimed him before he could form another thought. Especially after a strenous day as today, having survived his first battle.

  Morning came too quickly.

  The next day he barely got up and finished eating when he heard a lively, excited and cheerful voice call out after the sound of knocking.

  "Mingzhi, are you up? Let’s start as soon as possible!"

  His lips curled into a wide, bitter smile, shaking his head. After telling his parents that he’d be cultivating with Rou every day from now on, they ensured him not to worry about the field, he went out.

  "Hurry up, the Sun’s already up!" said Rou, urging him on.

  They had barely taken a few dozen steps when the Spirit’s voice cut in, sharp with alarm. "Mingzhi, there’s a very strong presence approching fast, I can’t measure his cultivation level!"

  "What?"he blurted out, with fear in his voice.