Lin Tian sat down on the meditation mat of his room while mentally reciting the guide to sense spiritual energy from the cultivation manual.
Lin Tian took a slow breath, steadying his thoughts. "Do not force it. Do not chase it. Simply let it flow around you" he muttered to himself.
He relaxed his shoulders and focused on his breath, inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly. At first, there was nothing. Just the rhythm of his breathing and the faint rustling of fabric as other students adjusted their positions. The room was silent and nothing could be heard outside.
Minutes passed. Frustration gnawed at him. He tried expanding his awareness, imagining his senses stretching beyond his body, but all he felt was… nothing.
Then—just as his concentration wavered—a fleeting sensation. A whisper of something at the edge of his awareness. It was subtle, like the brush of a breeze that wasn't really there. A faint, tingling warmth at his fingertips, barely perceptible.
For a moment, excitement surged in his chest. Did he just feel it? Was that the spiritual energy? But as soon as the thought formed, the sensation vanished, slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers.
He clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to sigh. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.
Lin Tian forced himself to take another slow breath, trying to regain his composure. No. He couldn't give up.
Determined, he settled back into meditation, letting time slip away as he kept trying. Again and again, he reached out with his senses, searching for that elusive presence.
Sometimes, he caught the faintest glimpse of it—a fleeting pressure in the air, a warmth brushing against his skin—but the moment he tried to focus on it, it would fade, slipping just out of reach.
Hours passed. Lin Tian's body ached from sitting still for so long. His mind was exhausted, his thoughts sluggish. And then, a faint sensation. Like a cool mist brushing against his skin. His heart leaped, but he kept his breathing steady.
"Now, don't rush it. Imagine the energy flowing toward you, like a river running downstream. Let it move naturally." Lin Tian muttered to himself.
Reaching for the energy, he guided it inward. It resisted at first, slipping through his grasp like smoke. But he didn't panic. He let it swirl, waiting for the right moment
Then, with a final push of will, he pulled. The energy surged into him. A warmth spread through his body, sinking deep into his core. It wasn't just heat—it was something more, something alive. A sudden pressure built up in his lower abdomen, like a dam on the verge of bursting.
And then—
Crack.
A sensation like breaking glass echoed within him.
He gasped, eyes snapping open. Something inside him just opened as a bottle that like a bottle that has been uncorked. A torrent of memories and information filled his mind like a tsunami wanting to consume him.
He gasped for air, his chest tightening as an unbearable headache tore through his skull. A torrent of memories flooded his mind, chaotic and overwhelming. He clenched his jaw, using every ounce of willpower to stay conscious.
Then, as suddenly as it came, the flood stopped. The pain, however, remained—a dull, throbbing agony at the edges of his mind.
For several minutes, he focused on steadying his breathing, calming his racing thoughts. When the pain dulled to a manageable ache, he slowly opened his eyes and examined his hands, flexing his fingers as if to confirm he was still himself.
"What a strange feeling…" he muttered.
With effort, he pushed himself to his feet and staggered toward the window. The world outside was calm, utterly indifferent to the storm that had just raged within him.
He exhaled sharply, sorting through the fragments of memories now resurfacing. The seal… had broken.
It had been placed there by his own hands before he died. When he opened his Dantian, it had also released some of the memories of his past life.
No… his past lives.
This was his third time starting from scratch.
His first life had been on a world called Earth—a place devoid of spiritual energy, where cultivation existed only in fantasy stories. There, countless dreamers had fantasized about being reborn into a world of cultivation, imagining themselves rising to greatness, defying fate, and becoming gods. He had been one of them.
At first, when he actually reincarnated into a world of cultivation, he thought he was one of the lucky ones. But reality was far crueler than fiction.
In the stories, protagonists were blessed with talent—special physiques, divine treasures, legendary inheritances. But he? He had been given nothing but the opportunity to exist.
His second life had begun as a beggar—weak, untalented, and utterly ordinary. Yet, he had refused to accept mediocrity. He clawed his way forward, struggling for every precious resource that could accelerate his growth. He took on menial jobs, served as a guard, even became a street vendor just to afford the barest essentials for cultivation.
While geniuses soared, he crawled. While they broke through realms effortlessly, he fought for every single advancement.
And yet, against all odds, through sheer perseverance, he reached the limits of the mortal realm.
At nearly 1,000 years old, standing at the edge of ascension, he had gathered the final resources needed to break through… and he failed.
His lips curled into a bitter smile.
"The seal worked…" he whispered.
Before attempting ascension, they gave him a technique—a method to seal his memories within his soul, increasing the chance of recovering them in his next life.
Recalling his final moments, Lin Tian felt hatred burn in his chest like a slow, smoldering fire. All those years of sacrifice—every humiliation swallowed, every pain endured—only to end in failure. In the end, it had all been for nothing.
A long breath escaped his lips as he tried to let go of the anger simmering in his veins. No. He couldn't afford to be ruled by the past. This was a new life, and everything was different now.
In his first life, he'd had nothing—no power, no knowledge, no hope. In his second, his only advantage had been his perspective, a clarity of thought that set him apart from others. But even that hadn't been enough. It had taken over two years just to acquire a basic Qi Refinement manual… and even longer to stumble upon a cultivation technique worth anything.
But this time... this time was different. This time he would succeed.
Now, he had everything. The knowledge, the experience, the techniques from his past life—all locked in his mind like treasures unearthed from a long-forgotten tomb. Unless he'd somehow reincarnated into a land brimming with geniuses, he had a real chance to rise like never before.
With a deep breath, he closed his eyes once more and sifted through the overlapping memories in his mind. Past and present interwove like tangled roots—disorienting, but slowly beginning to take shape.
His new name: Lin Tian. A good name—strong and clear.
The city: Gold Sky City. Pretentious, perhaps, but typical of the cultivation world's flair for grandiosity.
His age: fifteen.
His realm: Qi Gathering I—just a single step into the vast path of cultivation.
It wasn't impressive. Talented youths usually reached this level by thirteen. And if they reached Qi Gathering III by fifteen, they could attempt to enter the prestigious Divine Martial House—the kingdom's most respected academy for young cultivators.
Once again, he was behind. No innate talent. No glowing destiny.
But this time, that didn't matter.
In his last life, he had learned one irrefutable truth: talent wasn't everything. The geniuses soared like comets, but most burned out far before their time. The rest—those without monstrous potential—had only one option: find a technique that fit them perfectly.
According to his new memories, he was an orphan, the son of a former Lin Clan elder who had died under mysterious circumstances. This tenuous connection granted him a sliver of privilege—just enough to keep the door to cultivation open. Anyone else with his poor progress would've been pushed into servitude by now, forgotten.
But his true advantage wasn't just his father's fading legacy. It was his uncle—one of the Lin Clan's strongest cultivators and the only person still willing to fight for him.
In Lin Tian's scattered memories, his uncle stood like a mountain, distant and powerful. Though the clan spoke of him with awe, Lin Tian could guess the truth—he was likely in the Foundation Establishment realm. That wasn't earth-shattering, but it was far beyond what most could reach. And more importantly, Lin Tian knew techniques and tricks from higher realms that even his uncle wouldn't recognize.
The only real question now was: Which technique would he cultivate first?
Of the many manuals sealed within his memory, only two could be considered truly divine—each complete from Qi Gathering all the way to Immortality.
The first was the technique that had accompanied him for centuries in his previous life:
[Eternal Blooming Dao].
A path that followed the Wood Dao, the cycle of life itself. It embodied endless growth, renewal, and transformation. Where other techniques refined Qi step by step, this one was like a great tree—ever reaching upward, ever deepening its roots.
Its advantages were undeniable. It required minimal resources, and its path was stable, without bottlenecks. Every small breakthrough fed the next in a continuous rhythm, like spring following winter.
But it was slow. Painfully slow. Practitioners of this Dao often cultivated quietly for decades, even centuries, before reaching their next realm. The sect that created it was known for having the oldest cultivators in the land—each one a ticking time bomb of potential waiting to blossom.
Yet for those with patience, the reward was nearly guaranteed immortality.
Lin Tian smiled faintly.
No bottlenecks. No sudden walls to crash into. Just growth—unending, eternal.
Unlike the gentle, inward path of the Eternal Blooming Dao, the second technique etched into his soul was a stark contrast—brutal, primal, and blood-soaked.
It was the [Nine Tribulations Wolf Demon Codex]—a savage and ancient body cultivation method that walked the Dao of the Beast.
Where the Eternal Blooming Dao nurtured the soul through life, harmony, and endless growth, this one forged the body through chaos, instinct, and slaughter. It promised transformation into a demonic wolf overlord, but only for those strong enough to survive nine tribulations—each deadlier than the last.
These Nine Tribulations weren't just trials of strength—they were crucibles that tore through body, soul, and sanity. Every tribulation stripped away more of the human and reforged the cultivator into something more… and less. With each stage, the Wolf Demon Physique grew stronger, more ferocious, more bestial.
The pros and cons were the complete opposite of the Eternal Blooming Dao.
Where the wood path was slow but steady—requiring little yet taking centuries—this codex was quick, brutal, and endlessly demanding. Progress could be rapid, but only at a price: the essence of slain beasts, battles soaked in blood, and a path paved with corpses.
It was the road of murder.
With each tribulation passed, power surged in leaps, but so too did the madness, the danger, and the enemies left in his wake. It was a technique that demanded everything—and gave everything back in return, if the cultivator could survive.
It was, in essence, a choice between time and resources, patience or violence.
Lin Tian had spent an entire lifetime cultivating like a tree—stable, unwavering, eternal. He had no regrets. But that technique, for all its depth, had left him vulnerable. It wasn't a path built for warriors, and the world had shown no mercy. He had been forced to fight against those whose techniques were made for battle, not for longevity.
In contrast, the Wolf Demon Codex would make him dangerous. Fearsome. Feared.
But it would also place a target on his back from the moment he began. Cultivators who walked this path were often hunted—by sects, by clans, even by empires. Because to cultivate it, one had to kill. One had to steal life from others to become something greater.
Of course, the ideal scenario was to cultivate both. The [Eternal Blooming Dao] internally, to nourish his soul, and the [Nine Tribulations Wolf Demon Codex] externally, to fortify his body.
But life was never that kind.
These techniques were fundamentally incompatible. One preached harmony; the other, domination. If he tried to walk both paths simultaneously, his Qi would destabilize, and his body might even tear itself apart. At best, he would stagnate. At worst—he would die.
So, he had to choose.
The decision came faster than he expected.
He was tired of waiting. Tired of bowing. This life, he would rise—not quietly like a tree, but violently like a beast. He would carve his place into the world with tooth and claw if he had to.
A cold smile spread across his face.
So be it.
This time, he would walk the path of a Beast Cultivator—one who treads the boundary between man and monster. Those rare individuals who cultivate through the laws of the beast, wielding techniques born from nature's most savage instincts. Those who gain the power to transform, to fight like the beasts, and, eventually, to become them.
Now the only question that remained was how to cultivate this forbidden technique without drawing attention.
In all his memories from this life, he hadn't seen a single beast cultivator. Not one. Which meant either the path was not known… or feared.
Both options meant danger.
But Lin Tian had already made his choice.
"If fate dared to stand in my way again, I would break it." He muttered to himself.
"This time… I will be immortal".