“Don’t you know that those who condense roots through martial arts should only cultivate low-grade scattered roots? Only geniuses with an extremely strong foundation and willpower dare to create medium scattered roots! No one has ever created anything above that—because it’s the same as seeking death!”

Rihai spoke quickly, her face filled with anxiety. She didn’t want to lose Aotian to such recklessness.

“Huh? There’s such a limitation? I thought there were only manuals for medium scattered roots because I only found low-quality ones! But why do you say it’s suicide?”

Aotian was enlightened but still had doubts.

“Aotian, roots are not just physical. They exist between the real and the unreal, between flesh and soul. Those born without a spiritual root are not adapted to spiritual energy. The first three stages of martial arts are nothing more than degraded body refinement techniques, adjusted to a level that allows a rootless body to adapt to spiritual energy.”

She spoke with urgency, trying to make him understand.

Aotian already knew this. During his studies, he had discovered that, unlike what he had assumed, body refiners among cultivators needed a spiritual root.

After all, to temper their bodies, they had to use spiritual energy. Without roots, they would implode from absorbing energy uncontrollably.

Martial arts, on the other hand, were an extremely degraded version of body refinement, meant for mortals without spiritual roots. Even those who reached the Innate level were nowhere near the power of a first-level Qi refiner. That was why cultivators didn’t waste time with martial arts.

But Aotian’s martial arts were different.

After his synthesis, his physique had reached a level where he could fight on equal footing with fourth-level Qi refiners, despite only being at the peak of bone refinement. And it had only taken him a few months to reach this level.

If others found out, it would likely ignite a war among cultivators.

“Rihai, you saw when we ran from the Red Tiger. My strength is far beyond that of an ordinary martial artist.”

Rihai hesitated. The anxiety in her eyes eased slightly—but it didn’t disappear.

“That’s true… I had forgotten. But even so, the problem isn’t whether your body can withstand the roots—it’s your will!”

Aotian frowned.

“Why do you say that?”

He knew the process would be painful and would require a great deal of spiritual energy, but none of the manuals he studied mentioned a specific willpower requirement.

“The pain of this process is intense enough to destroy a mortal’s mind.”

Rihai clenched her fists.

“Creating scattered roots means that fragments of roots will form intermittently throughout your body, tearing through flesh and soul as they search for a fixed place. The higher the root’s quality, the larger the fragments.”

She continued.

“High-level scattered roots already cause excruciating pain for any genius mortal in this world. If it were just physical pain, it would be bearable. But this pain reaches the soul as well!”

She gritted her teeth, distressed by what Aotian was about to do. She looked at him, intending to dissuade him.

“And a true root is even worse. It won’t be an intermittent pain like with scattered roots. It will be a continuous process. Your spiritual root will tear through your body and soul nonstop, ripping everything apart from one end to the other!”

She concluded darkly.

Aotian took a deep breath, deep in thought.

‘The exercises I synthesized for essence refinement greatly reduce the pain of the process, but I didn’t know it would be this intense, especially for the soul. If it’s as Rihai describes, it’s like having both flesh and spirit repeatedly torn apart.’

He clenched his fists.

‘But I can’t hesitate!’

“Rihai, I don’t want to stop here and become just a Qi refiner forever. I need true roots to walk the path of immortality beside you and achieve everything I desire.”

His voice held firmness, an unshakable decision.

Rihai opened her mouth, but hesitated. Her eyes reflected inner conflict, as if she wanted to say something she had kept for a long time.

In the end, her expression turned resolute.

“Aotian… If you’re doing this for me, then stop now.”

She lowered her head for a moment, then looked up again—her eyes slightly red.

“My roots…”

She Took a Deep Breath.

“They were broken. They are nothing more than scattered roots now.”

Aotian’s eyes widened.

Without a second thought, he stood up, ran to her, and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. At that moment, neither of them cared that Aotian was completely naked.

Rihai rested her head on his shoulder and softly whispered:

“Don’t worry…”

But her eyes were not as calm as her voice.

Aotian could already imagine that a bloody conflict was behind this matter.

“I know you have your reasons for staying silent, but I swear that I will help you restore your roots and protect you—just as I swear that today, I will forge my own spiritual roots!”

He held her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes.

“Please, Rihai, I want you to believe in me!”

She stared at him, uncertain.

“It’s suicide…”

She whispered.

“Rihai, we both have secrets, and we know it. So believe that mine is enough to overcome this—trust me.”

Aotian spoke firmly.

Rihai hesitated, but in the end, she reluctantly nodded.

“Alright, I’ll start now.”

He stepped away from Rihai, fully focused. Fortunately, being so absorbed in her troubles and his root formation, something didn’t rise and make the situation even more embarrassing.

Sitting back on the floor, his back turned to Rihai, Aotian took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

He then took his perfect, supreme, immortal, barrier-breaking pill… spiritual rice.

Scooping up a handful of spiritual rice, meticulously prepared for this moment, he placed it in his mouth.

To initiate the process, he needed an internal source of spiritual energy. He could have gathered it through exercises, but he preferred to be in peak physical and mental condition.

As soon as the spiritual energy flowed into his body, he began to channel it.

‘Refining the skin, the blood, and the bones… Purging the impurities that plague the flesh… Adapting to the spiritual… And then, from the energy that flows through the heavens, making innate what was never truly his…’

The energy around him began to swirl. His pores opened, and for the first time since he began cultivating, he did not limit his absorption.

Tiny drops of blood started emerging from his skin. The searing pain spread through his body and soul like a devastating wave.

It felt as if an army of invisible ants was digging tunnels through his flesh and spirit, tearing everything in their path.

From his skin to his organs, from his bones to the deepest part of his existence, every fiber of his being burned in agony.

At the same time, his body showed nothing visibly alarming, aside from the blood dripping from his pores. The spiritual roots were forming between the real and the unreal, an intangible existence, yet undeniably present.

The pain was unbearable for any mortal. And Aotian was no exception.

He collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony, holding on only through sheer willpower to control the process.

“AHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

His scream of torment, as he convulsed on the ground, was extraordinary.

But the most terrifying part was that the scream did not seem to come only from his mouth.

It was as if his soul itself was screaming, echoing the sound of a pain that transcended the physical realm.

Rihai watched with tear-filled eyes.

Her legs trembled, nearly giving out under the weight of despair.

She wanted to run to him, she wanted to stop him, but she knew she couldn’t.

If there was even the slightest chance that Aotian would survive, she needed to be there to help him.

But Aotian was not without hope.

From the very beginning, he had never relied solely on himself.

His true source of confidence came from somewhere else.

…

On Black Rock Mountain, inside a small apartment, three men sat on the floor.

Or, more precisely, one of them was sitting with clenched teeth, veins bulging from his neck, while the other two writhed on the ground, screaming in pain.

“AHHHHHHH!!!”

The screams of Bao Hui and Lie Zheng tore through the silence of the room.

Normally, the senses were blocked so that one body wouldn’t affect the others. But at this moment, Aotian had removed that barrier, allowing his avatars to share his pain.

With the strength of a Foundation Establishment expert and two peak Qi Refiners, he redistributed the mental burden among his avatars, dividing the torment and making it manageable.

But manageable did not mean bearable.

The proof of this was that, among the three, only Tian Zhu, the strongest, was still able to remain seated.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep