One month later…
Arthur's life had become a cycle of discipline, struggle, and survival—a sharpening wheel grinding down his limits, day by day.
Every morning began with grueling Body Tempering training. He forced his body through brutal routines meant to tear muscle and force regeneration, slowly building a body that could contain the power he sought. Then came the hunts—tracking beasts in the wilderness, and risking life to get stronger.
By noon, he was back in the city, weighed down by bloodied trophies and aching limbs. After selling the parts at the guild, he returned to his room, ignited his Multiplier, and alternated between cultivating Qi one day and Soul Force the next. The Whispering Soul Breathing, Mirror Vein Channeling, and Heaven Root Vital Breathing techniques had become natural him.
His consistency had paid off.
He had finally reached body Tempering real, stage—flesh tampering. the second sub-stage of the Body Tempering Realm. His muscles now carried the density of iron, his strikes held real weight, and his senses—especially through Soul Eyes—had evolved enough to detect enemies within a 500 meter radius.
But the path upward never allowed rest.
---
In his room, at night.
The wooden floor creaked faintly underfoot. The light bulb had been dimmed, and the scent of scorched herbs and medicinal powder hung in the air like fog. The tub was filled with a bubbling mix of health potions, rare herbs, and bone-marrow stimulants, purchased with nearly half the System Point Arthur had earned through daily missions.
He sat inside the tub, submerged up to his neck. The fluid sizzled against his skin, faintly glowing, soaking into his pores, and numbing the surface of his body—but nothing could dull what was happening beneath the skin.
Arthur closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and activated the surge of internal energy. yes, He can now finally use internal energy but cannot bring it to surface. And the internal energy is not under his control, when he tries to take out the internal energy from his core, it's like a chaotic beast rampaging in his body.
Then why is Arthur using internal energy now? Because of system instructions. He can use the internal energy that is not under his command yet, to make it move and rampage his inside and use the potions and herbs to heal Faster, this way he will be able to get to higer rank in body Tempering realm.
The moment it moved, the pain came.
His jaw clenched. His fingers gripped the sides of the tub so tightly the wood cracked under his strength.
Inside his body, the chaotic internal energy swirled like a tempest, tearing through flesh, hammering his bones with invisible strikes, crashing again and again like a relentless tide. The pain was immediate and overwhelming—like molten lead being poured through his marrow.
"AhhhhhHHH!." why did i listen to this damn system. This hurts too much, i have never felt this kind of pain before.
His scream echoed through the room—but not beyond it. The Silencing Talisman, pinned to the wall, shimmered faintly, ensuring the neighbors heard nothing. The price of growth was best endured in private.
He gasped for breath. His ribs twisted. It felt like his skeleton was being shattered from within, each bone breaking into splinters only to be forcefully repaired by the regenerating power of the potion and herbs. The cycle repeated over and over—break, reform, strengthen.
His arms twitched violently as the tendons in his shoulders snapped like violin strings, then rewove themselves under the force of regeneration.
Blood began to seep from his nose, his gums, his ears.
"Shit—it hurts, it HURTS—!"
The pain blurred his vision, turned the world white and red, his nerves screaming louder than his voice could. It wasn't just physical—it attacked his mind, his resolve, everything that made him Arthur.
But he endured.
He dug his fingernails into his thighs to anchor himself, even as the muscles spasmed and his bones cracked under the strain. It felt like he was being **rebuilt from the inside out**, each cell reprogrammed to serve a stronger version of himself.
Minutes passed like hours.
Every heartbeat pounded like a war drum in his ears. His eyes rolled back as another wave of pain tore through his spine, like a blade dragging itself through each vertebra.
"Don't blackout… don't blackout… just a little more…"
His lips trembled, dry and bloodstained. He bit down on his tongue to keep himself conscious. The bathwater, once clear, was now stained dark—a mix of medicine, sweat, and the blood expelled from his pores.
Then—finally—something shifted.
The raging energy condensed. The chaotic storm within him… calmed.
A warmth spread through his core. Not the violent heat of pain, but a stable, pulsating fire that hummed in his bones like an internal furnace.
His breathing slowed.
The tremors in his limbs faded.
He slumped against the edge of the tub, his eyes is already blank, his chest rising and falling with quiet intensity. He was soaked, broken, bleeding…
But stronger.
The pain had refined him. His bones were no longer the bones of a normal man—they were tempered, hardened, reinforced by suffering and will.
"Stage three… Bone Tempering…" he whispered, half-smiling despite the agony. "I did it…"
The Next Morning...
Arthur awoke with a groan.
His body ached like it had been trampled by a horde of stampeding beasts, but he was alive. Barely. His eyelids fluttered open, and the stench hit him first—a pungent mixture of blood, burnt herbs, and the sharp tang of medicinal potions. He was still in the now-cold, foul-smelling tub of liquid, long since turned murky and sour.
"Ugh... now I have to clean up this mess," Arthur muttered, rubbing his temples.
He staggered out of the tub, his legs still trembling, and stumbled into the adjoining washroom to scrub the residue of pain and grime from his skin. The water felt like heaven compared to the torment of the night before.
Once clean and dressed, Arthur sat on the edge of the bed, drew a deep breath, and called out:
"System. Show me my status."
A translucent panel materialized before his eyes, humming faintly with energy.
---
> Name: Arthur Grayrat
> Species: Human
> Occupation: Soul Scholar, Cultivator
> Realm: Body Tempering Realm (Third Stage — Bone Tempering)
> Title: None
> S.P.: 561,450
> Artifact: Multiplier (Rank: Purple)
> Strength: 150
> Agility: 130
> Stamina: 200
> Senses: 50
> Soul Sensitivity: 25
> Soul Force: 200
> Internal Energy: 150
> Techniques:
— Heavenroot Vital Breathing — Blue (Intermediate)
— Whispering Soul Breathing (Purple)
— Mirror Vein Channeling (Purple)
— Body Tempering Manual (White)
> Skills:
— Soul Eyes
— Basic Swordsmanship
> Talents: None
> Resistance: Minor Illusion Resistance
> Traits:
— Dual Source Stability — Minor resistance to internal backlash during dual-path cultivation
---
Arthur's eyes widened slightly.
"Wow… comparing this to when I first opened my status screen… it's a massive leap," he whispered, awe tinged with pride.
"With stats like these… can I finally take down a blue-rank spirit beast?"
Ding!
> [Answering host's inquiry—
> With your current stats, you may barely survive the attack of a blue-rank spirit beast.
> Engaging one in solo combat is strongly discouraged.]
Arthur let out a long, weary sigh. "So I'm still not strong enough... Even now"
He leaned back on the bed, eyes scanning the ceiling.
"The entrance exams for all top academies begin in two months. If I want to pass... I *need* a blue-rank spirit ring."
His fingers curled into fists. A spirit ring was no mere trophy. It was a gateway to immense power. But acquiring one meant killing a spirit beast—rare creatures of potent energy and tremendous danger.
"There's no way I can do it alone. I need a party… companions I can rely on. But…"
His voice trailed off, the dilemma clear.
"How do I find trustworthy teammates? What's to stop them from turning on me the moment the beast falls?"
Arthur's brows furrowed.
The thought wasn't born from paranoia—it was a rational fear. Spirit beasts were not like ordinary monsters. Their bodies held immense value. Even a white-rank spirit beast could fetch more gold than most purple-rank monsters. A blue-rank? That could fund a noble house for a year.
"That kind of temptation…" Arthur murmured, "can make even the most loyal friend turn into a knife-wielding traitor."
He stared at his trembling hand.
Power… always came at a price.
And if he wanted to survive in this world—he had to pay it. Carefully.
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