Sitting in the lotus position with his eyes closed, breathing deeply, Aotian focused on his body.
There, through his spiritual energy that served as his eyes, he could see even his cells vibrating with energy, as well as his beautiful and extremely robust spiritual roots shining in five colors.
At that moment, his focus was on his Golden-Purple Core, which was the size of a large orange, existing between the real and the unreal, appearing extremely condensed and vibrant, with a faint purple glow over the golden coloration.
The Golden Core carried all of the cultivator's energy, and it was even normal to expose it to unleash an all-out attack, completely ignoring the passage of energy through the spiritual roots and releasing everything at once, which basically doubled or even tripled the cultivator's strength for an instant when performed.
But such a move had to be done with extreme caution, because if the enemy managed to deliver any attack, no matter how small, it could risk cracking or even completely shattering the core, leading the cultivator to death.
An example was the grandmother of the disfigured girl Aotian had saved not long ago. Her core was cracked, and although she still possessed considerable vitality, she was no different from a cultivator at the end of her lifespan, or even worse. If the Infinite Dao Sect had not arrived there, there was no telling how long she would last.
And she could be considered lucky, since cracking a Golden Core was a one-in-a-million stroke of luck, with complete destruction being the most common result.
But even with all these disadvantages, exposing the Golden Core was indeed an extremely powerful trump card, as long as it was used carefully.
Of course, with his foundation close to perfection, Aotian did not fear exposing his Golden Core as much as others did. His core was so powerful that even if he let a cultivator at the early Nascent Soul stage attack with everything they had, they probably wouldn't even be able to create a crack, much less destroy it.
Not to mention the power he could generate by exposing it and performing a full-force attack. Not merely an increase of two times like an ordinary cultivator—his reached nearly twenty times the power of a full-force attack.
And it was because of this powerful trump card that he was confident in defeating young master Chun even with his current realm.
Of course, since the opponent was a cultivator at the perfection of Soul Formation, there was still the possibility that he could injure his Golden Core before being killed, and such a risk was not something Aotian wanted to take unnecessarily, even if death would not be a true death for him.
If it was not a last resort, he preferred not to complicate things so much.
'Well, before advancing, I want to bring my physique to the perfection of the Golden Core as well, even if it won't truly change the quality of my breakthrough. It's only a hair's breadth away, so it won't take long.'
As he thought this, he extended his spiritual perception toward the storage ring on his finger which, despite its simple appearance, concealed Void-Tier fluctuations.
Within its vast internal space, he stored many things, and among them, of course, there was the Dew of the Dragon's Lament, which unfortunately he could not take out now, not in front of the dragon, who would probably sense the smell of his race's blood coming from that golden liquid.
Aotian was no longer like before, when he could not even carry that liquid, since any storage item below Void-Tier could not contain it and would be corroded and destroyed.
Over the past year, while exploring the central continent, he had synthesized a Formation-Tier artifact creation inheritance, which allowed him to create Void-Tier items using materials below that level, just like the sect's ship.
The central continent was extremely rich, and although Aotian had not dealt with Void-Tier forces or higher, the tens of thousands of Formation-Tier forces still allowed him to accumulate a great deal of wealth.
He did not go on a theft spree like before—well, only occasionally, as he did not wish to draw attention. However, his ability to convert low-grade spirit stones into high-quality spirit and elemental stones allowed him to quietly accumulate vast assets and valuable inheritances through legitimate trade.
And when someone he traded with became greedy for his wealth, it was enough to release a simple pulse of his cultivation realm—or rather, a pulse from elder Mo Yexuan of the Shadow Pavilion, the avatar Aotian had sent to explore the central continent—and everything would be resolved peacefully.
After all, a Soul Formation cultivator purchasing large quantities of Formation-Tier materials would be seen as a fat sheep, whereas a Void Refiner buying the same materials was merely a respected senior spending pocket change to buy things for his juniors.
Shaking his head to dispel these distracting memories, Aotian began pulling various herbs and natural treasures from his ring, making them float before him.
Pointing both hands toward them in a claw shape, he rotated his hands and then…
Nothing.
Aotian's mouth twitched as he felt the world's formations interfering with the flames he intended to create.
Turning toward the little girl, who was the matrix spirit that enveloped the small world, he looked at her helplessly.
"Beautiful little sister, I know you cannot deactivate the formations that prevent everyone from using inheritances other than those specific to the Dragon Sovereign without full authority."
"But it shouldn't be a problem for you to create a small area that does not suffer from that restriction, like that place where my companions and I arrived when we entered the mansion, where there were thirty stone slabs, right?"
Aotian asked softly, with pitiful eyes.
Everyone could not help but feel amused seeing the powerful brother Long Aotian like this.
The little girl hesitated for a second and then nodded shyly.
"Big Brother, you can try now," her sweet voice sounded.
Aotian smiled at her and thanked her before turning back to the materials.
Extending his hands once more, a vortex of flames emerged before him this time, quickly engulfing all the materials.
Gray metal-element energy then wrapped around the flames, gradually forming the outline of a phantom cauldron.
The materials were melting at high speed and then intertwining and fusing with one another, almost like a dreamlike and hypnotic dance.
Impurities were spat out of the illusory cauldron, while the mixture of dozens of materials acquired a vibrant reddish coloration.
Cang Song looked at it all with his mouth open and eyes wide, stupefied.
As an alchemist, he was dazzled and incredulous at Aotian's skill and mastery in this art. His teacher had already told him about cauldronless alchemy, and although it had several disadvantages, such as loss of medicinal potency, significantly increased difficulty of control, the need to use the metal and fire elements together, among many others, it was still a very elegant and skillful way to perform alchemy.
Those problems truly existed, but Aotian knew that most of that material would be wasted anyway, so he did not care much about such small losses and disadvantages.
As soon as the red liquid converged, Aotian did not condense it into pills, but instead dissipated the furnace and controlled that boiling liquid to envelop himself.
The high temperature did not bother him, but the loss of medicinal energy that occurred every second the liquid was not condensed into a pill did.
So, without wasting time, he closed his eyes and began drawing that energy into his body, nourishing his cells through the body-refinement patterns he had formed within himself.
Slowly but surely, his cells grew stronger, and then, a few minutes later, with a slight vibration, they suddenly sealed themselves completely, immediately cutting off the nourishment and refusing to accept even a single drop more.
When that happened, it meant that Aotian's body had also reached the peak of the Golden Core.
[Host: Long Aotian
Cultivation: Perfection of Golden Core
Body Cultivation: Perfection of Golden Core
Physique: Mortal
Qualifications: Perfect-Grade (Supreme) Five Element Spiritual Root]
Opening his eyes, Aotian let out a soft sigh of satisfaction.
Then, suddenly waving his hand, he controlled the red liquid, which now appeared much more opaque than at the beginning, and threw it to the side, soaking the green grass, which began to grow tall and robust under the nourishment of that medicinal energy.
Cracking his neck from side to side, he smiled.
'All set, time for the main course.'
Closing his eyes again, he focused on his Golden Core.
Controlling his roots, Aotian began to draw Fourth-Level energy from the outside into his body.
As that energy traveled through his roots, it became increasingly condensed, until, under tremendous pressure, the wild energy underwent a qualitative leap, transforming into pure Fourth-Level energy, appearing far more alive and spiritual than before.
If the energy from Qi Refinement to Golden Core was like an old typewriter, improving and becoming more robust and reliable as it advanced, upon becoming Nascent Soul energy, the typewriter evolved directly into a computer, more intelligent and with greater applicability, no longer limited to merely writing.
As soon as that energy touched the Golden Core, Aotian felt his entire being tremble.
Something that had until then been untouchable and invisible to him suddenly appeared in his perception like a vibrating torch in the darkness. His soul.
His soul was spread throughout his body, existing there instinctively, bound to the flesh by the energy called vitality, which remained firmly stored in his Dantian, which until then was a Golden Core.
That was why, when someone's vitality was exhausted, it was soon followed by death.
It did not only bind the soul to the body, but also nourished it and kept it whole there. That was also why, even firmly stored in the cultivator's Dantian, vitality dissipated slowly over time, because it was the soul that used it as nourishment to exist.
In essence, vitality was the fuel of the Soul.
And that was why only by reaching higher realms and metamorphosing their vitality, as well as strengthening it, could a cultivator live far longer than they should.
In Aotian's Dantian, as soon as that energy entered, the Golden Core held firm without problems.
Weaker cultivators often felt immense pressure in the Dantian upon reaching this phase, because their Golden Cores were not robust enough to withstand such a level of energy, even risking breaking directly.
But for Aotian, not only was carrying that small amount of energy not a problem, but even allowing an early-stage Nascent Soul cultivator to attack with all their power would not be a threat to his powerful Core.
The Fourth-Level energy then quickly moved, guided by him, to envelop the vitality—an ethereal green energy—at the center of the Golden Core.
As soon as it did, his soul, through its link to the vitality, felt a powerful pull and was drawn toward it, leaving the rest of his body behind.
Aotian felt the disconnection from his limbs as his soul left those parts, and if his eyes had not been closed, everyone would have seen the light within them fade.
Soon, his entire soul was completely swallowed by the Golden-Purple Core, which was now the only part over which Aotian still had control, along with his roots, which continued to work and draw energy from the surroundings.
All of that seemed to trigger something. In the sky, dense black clouds began to condense, spreading for miles, while thunder tore through the darkness, filling the air with suffocating pressure.
Then it happened.
Suddenly, in Aotian's Dantian, cracks like spiderwebs spread throughout the Golden Core, and fragments began breaking off, swallowed from within.
Through the cracks, it was possible to see a small light-blue Aotian inside, floating at the center in the lotus position, and all the fragments that fell were drawn toward him, fusing with his body.
Slowly but surely, the small soul began to become more condensed, and the light blue started to acquire a deeper tone, with small purple spots occasionally appearing.
The Nascent Soul was being forged.