The Inner Sect was a world apart. Nestled in the clouds, higher up the mountain, the architecture was more elegant, the Qi denser, the atmosphere heavy with ambition and latent power. Li Yao was given a private residence that made his old courtyard look like a hovel—a small but exquisite pavilion with a spirit-spring-fed pond and a cultivation chamber lined with Mid-Grade Spirit Stones.
It was a gilded cage. The monitoring formations here were not just perceptive; they were analytical, constantly sampling the spiritual energy in his rooms, likely logging his cultivation rhythm and energy signatures. The freedom to practice his heresy was gone.
His first week was a barrage of orientation. He was assigned a mentor, a stern-faced woman named Elder Zhu, who was a master of the [Soaring Cloud Sword Art]. She tested his foundation with a critical eye.
"Your core is stable, but your energy is... peculiar," she stated, her spiritual sense a cold needle probing his dantian. "Dense. Heavy. And there is a spatial resonance I cannot place. You will begin from the beginning. The true [Soaring Cloud Art], not the outer sect dregs."
He was forced to spend hours each day practicing the orthodox techniques under her watchful eye. It was stifling. Every movement felt clumsy, every energy expenditure wasteful compared to the hyper-efficient methods the System generated. But he complied, becoming a model student of the sect's ways. He was building a perfect, orthodox facade.
The real cultivation happened in the cracks. During the mandated "personal reflection" time, or in the dead of night when he used the System to generate a "spiritual white noise" field to baffle the monitors for precious minutes, he would work.
His focus was twofold. First, his spatial arm. It was a phantom limb, useless for anything but the most basic spatial manipulations. He needed to refine it. Using the Inner Sect's access to the Grand Scripture Repository's second floor, he found fragmented texts on spatial theory and law application. The System integrated them, slowly, painstakingly improving the [Law of Spatial Anchoring] comprehension.
"[Law of Spatial Anchoring] Understanding: 0.8%. Proto-Limb integrity increased. Can now perform minor telekinetic tasks (under 500 grams)."
It was progress. He could now, with immense concentration, lift a cup of tea with his spatial hand. It was a far cry from combat, but it was a start. He kept this ability utterly secret.
His second focus was Wang Jin. The Young Master had also entered the Inner Sect, his flawed but powerful core earning him a place. He was a rising star, his brutal, unpredictable power making him a fearsome opponent in the sparring rings. He had gathered a faction of followers, disciples drawn to his strength and his vendetta against Li Yao.
Their rivalry was an open secret, a slow-burning fuse. Wang Jin couldn't attack him directly—the Inner Sect forbade unsanctioned duels—but the hostility was palpable. He would "accidentally" shatter a training dummy Li Yao was using, or his followers would "inadvertently" block his path to a resource station.
Li Yao endured it with a calm that infuriated Wang Jin further. He was playing the long game. Wang Jin was a bomb, and Li Yao was the only one who knew the countdown.
The opportunity to advance his own power, and to further ensnare Wang Jin, came with the "Chamber of Elemental Torment."
It was a special cultivation ground for Inner Sect disciples, a series of rooms each saturated with a pure, violent elemental force—a sea of eternal flames, a cavern of razor-sharp metallic Qi, a grove of soul-piercing wood energy.
Disciples would enter to temper their bodies and cores, to force breakthroughs. It was also incredibly dangerous. A moment of lost focus could mean being consumed by the element.
Li Yao signed up for the Earth chamber, seeking to further ground his Stellar Core. Wang Jin, predictably, signed up for the same session, a cruel smirk on his face.
The chamber was a world of immense pressure. The very air was thick as stone, the gravitational force ten times normal. Cracks in the floor spewed jets of concentrated earth-attributed Qi that could crush bone.
Li Yao found a spot and began to cycle his energy, drawing the heavy earth Qi into his core, using it to further compact his stellar furnace. It was agonizing, but productive.
Wang Jin, meanwhile, was showboating. He stood in the center of the chamber, letting the earth Qi crash against him, his spatial-tainted core flaring to deflect it. He was strong, but his method was, as always, wasteful and unstable.
Li Yao watched with his law-enhanced perception. He could see the flaw in Wang Jin's core, a flickering, jagged tear in his spiritual matrix. The violent earth energy was aggravating it, causing micro-fractures.
This was the moment.
As a particularly powerful jet of earth Qi erupted near Wang Jin, Li Yao acted. He didn't attack. He didn't even move. He simply focused his will and his minuscule comprehension of spatial law on Wang Jin's core flaw.
He didn't try to fix it. He gave it the gentlest, most precise push.
It was like tapping a crack in a dam with a diamond needle.
The result was instantaneous and catastrophic. The unstable equilibrium of Wang Jin's core shattered. The spatial flaw, agitated by the earth energy and Li Yao's nudge, erupted outwards.
A spatial tear, similar to the one in the lecture hall but smaller, ripped open inside Wang Jin's own dantian.
He screamed, a raw, guttural sound of agony and terror. He collapsed, his aura spiraling into chaos, the earth energy in the chamber now running rampant through his ruptured spiritual system. He was being petrified from the inside out.
Alarms blared. Elders Zhu and Guo burst into the chamber, their auras suppressing the wild energy. They stabilized Wang Jin, but the damage was done. His core was critically injured, his cultivation on the verge of total collapse.
As they carried him out, pale and unconscious, Elder Guo's eyes met Li Yao's. There was no accusation, only a deep, weary knowledge. He knew. He might not have proof, but he knew that the convenient "accident" had Li Yao's fingerprints all over it.
Back in his pavilion, Li Yao received a message via a jade slip that dissolved after reading.
The patient's condition is critical. The physician's services are required. The usual terms.
- W.Z.
Wang Zhong. The Captain was calling in his marker. His son was broken, and only the "physician" who understood the Stellar Core Method could possibly put him back together.
Li Yao looked at his spatial hand, now capable of lifting a teacup. He had just crippled his rival, secured his own indispensability, and earned the undying enmity of a powerful father—all without throwing a single punch.
The gilded cage of the Inner Sect had just become a chessboard, and he was the player moving pieces in the shadows. The path forward was clear: he would "heal" Wang Jin, binding the Young Master and his father to him even tighter, while using the sect's resources to silently climb the realms of the Law Path. The Eternal Ascension continued, one ruthless, calculated step at a time.