Chương 79: Core Formation

On the last day left before the duel, Bai Ning announced her intention to advance into the Core Formation realm. There was no thunderclap of insight that prompted her decision. No long-suppressed frustration finally breaking free. Since reaching the peak of Foundation Establishment, her cultivation had simply… continued. Each cycle of qi flowed clean and unimpeded, as though the path ahead had already been swept clear. When she sat to cultivate, her dantian no longer felt merely full, only restless.

Waiting was no longer about patience. It felt like stagnation. So, despite the timing, despite every reason that cautioned against it, she knew the moment had come. It felt inevitable. That did not make it safe. The step from Foundation Establishment to Core Formation claimed lives when the smallest detail went wrong, and these were far from ideal circumstances. The coming duel cast a shadow over everything. Worse still, she was young. Not yet twenty.

Who had ever heard of a Core Formation cultivator at such an age? She could afford to wait. That was what common wisdom would say. She saw that very thought written plainly on every face at the table when she made her announcement. For a long moment, no one spoke. Then, predictably, the protests began. Her parents spoke at once, their voices tangling together, though only two words emerged clearly from the overlap: "Too young."

Liu Rushi, whom Bai Ning had only recently come to know, shook her head with restrained disapproval.

"This is rushed," she said.

"Advancement should not be decided in the shadow of external pressure." Lady Yun, who had been quietly conversing with an uncharacteristically polite Gang Rong, looked up sharply and reminded her, "With the coming duel, this is not the time-" The objections came from every side. Unexpectedly, only Master Mo Jian and Senior Fan Mei remained silent. Mo Jian did not argue or chastise like the others.

He only stared at her, something distant flickering behind his eyes, as though her words had pulled him backward through time. When his focus returned, his gaze sharpened and settled squarely on her.

"Are you sure?" he asked. Bai Ning met his eyes without flinching.

"Yes." That was all. Fan Mei's reaction was quieter. She pressed her lips together, a faint crease forming between her brows, but she did not speak. Whether her silence stemmed from lingering guilt, her knowledge of the False Core Pill (a matter none of the three who knew of it had bothered to share with the others) or something else entirely, Bai Ning didn't know. She only knew that the absence of objection felt, in its own way, like support. Her mother tried nonetheless.

Hands gripping Bai Ning's shoulders, she looked as though she might physically shake caution back into her daughter.

"You don't have to do this now," she insisted.

"There's time." Chi Shen stood beside her with open concern, saying nothing, yet plainly thinking much the same. At last, Master Mo Jian rose and brushed a nonexistent speck of dust from his robes. The entire table fell silent.

"Then we should find a suitable location," he said evenly.

"We only have one day." The argument died at once. Even those who disagreed did not speak again. During their week in Azure Wall City, Bai Ning had noticed the shift; how others now deferred to him, how her teacher's quiet approval ended disputes more completely than raised voices ever could. Mo Jian reached into his storage pouch and withdrew a sword. It was a simple, unadorned length of Bin Steel, its surface catching the light with a bright, honest sheen. Bai Ning's breath caught at once. She knew that sword.

It was the final blade she had forged while practicing before the tournament, and her best work to date. It bore no unique abilities and held little qi; it was simply well-made steel, exceptionally tough and keenly sharp. Mo Jian placed it into her hands without ceremony. She understood his intent immediately. Which was how, a mere hour later, a dozen cultivators took flight from Azure Wall Island, heading east toward a small, uninhabited islet Lady Yun had informed them of.

Unlike Foundation Establishment, advancement to Core Formation required a suitable location, one dense with natural qi. And not merely abundant, but pure. The quality of the qi mattered as much as its density. Depending on a cultivator's attribute, the ideal environment could change dramatically. Fire-attributed cultivators advanced most smoothly within the Ring of Fire; those aligned with lightning sought out places like Thundercrown Peak, where the heavens themselves seemed restless. Bai Ning was neither.

Her qi bore no single attribute, sometimes called non-attributed qi, sometimes Heaven and Earth qi, though the distinction mattered little. What it meant, in practice, was that her requirements were more exacting, not less. She needed balance, and that more or less translated into a place where earth and heaven converged naturally, and where water, wood, metal, and even wind existed in quiet harmony, with none suppressing the others.

Which usually meant a forested mountain peak, untouched by human hands, with a living river nearby. And if Lady Yun's information was correct, the islet ahead was exactly what they were looking for. Bai Ning spent the entire journey focusing on the steps required to advance. It was a simple meditative technique, meant to steady her thoughts and ensure she made no mistakes when the moment came.

The transition from Foundation Establishment to Core Formation followed the same fundamental principles as the leap from Qi Condensation to Foundation Establishment, only taken to a far more dangerous extreme. First, she would need to compress all of her qi into her dantian. At her current stage, her qi was already dense and viscous, closer to liquid than mist. Forcing it tighter would be far more demanding than the final compression she had once performed in Qi Condensation. Still, that part did not worry her.

Once her qi was compressed to its absolute limit, with not a trace escaping her dantian, she would have to force it further, raising its density until the liquid qi collapsed inward, forming a single bead of solidified qi. That was only the beginning. If the bead formed flawlessly, without fracture or instability, then it would begin to draw in qi from its surroundings. That was why the environment mattered so profoundly.

The newly formed core would be hungry, and she would need to regulate the influx of external qi with absolute precision. Too little, and it would wither. Too much, and it would rupture. This was where most cultivators failed. The bead would grow at astonishing speed, swelling and refining itself, transforming into a golden core as celestial phenomena manifested in response. Clouds would gather. The winds would stir. Heaven would acknowledge the birth of something new.

Any lapse in control, or a flicker of distraction, could cause the forming core to destabilize. Death was common. Crippling injuries were nearly as frequent. Only once the golden core stabilized, completing what was known as the macrocosmic orbit, could she proceed to the final step: binding an artifact to her soul. Using the core as a bridge, she would anchor her Natal treasure to her soul, making it an extension of her very being. Simple, in theory.

In reality, there was a reason so many cultivators stalled at Foundation Establishment and never dared to advance further. It was not merely a matter of insufficient knowledge or scarce resources, though those played their part. This stage demanded something rarer: unshakable confidence and absolute commitment. A willingness to stake one's life on a single, irreversible moment. Bai Ning felt ready.

And besides, Master Mo Jian had already stated his intention to attempt advancement to the Nascent Soul realm after the duel. She had no intention of falling that far behind. ………………………………………………………………………. When they arrived, the so-called island proved little more than a jagged spine of rock rising from the sea, crowned with scattered pines that clung stubbornly to cracks in the stone. Fan Mei stepped forward at once.

"Let me," she said with one of her easy smiles, gently waving Mo Jian and the others back before taking Bai Ning by the arm and leading her toward the peak. Near the summit, snow had gathered in thick drifts. Meltwater threaded through the white in narrow streams, carving delicate paths downward before spilling over the edges in half a dozen slender waterfalls. The air was crisp, clean, and untouched.

The last Bai Ning saw of the others – her parents, her friends, the companions who had followed her this far – were strained smiles and worried eyes. Only Master Mo Jian remained composed. Below, Chi Shen snapped open his Mountains and Bird Folding Fan and waved it lazily through the air. Ripples of faint green wind spread outward, dispersing across sea and sky.

"They really followed us all the way here," he remarked lightly, making no attempt to lower his voice. Mo Jian's gaze remained fixed on the peak where Bai Ning and Fan Mei had disappeared. He exhaled slowly.

"It is to be expected," he said.

"They must ensure none of us are fleeing." The Foundation Establishment cultivators: Bai Zhou, Bai Zing, Gang Rong, and Bai Ning's three friends from the tournament, stiffened visibly, alarm spreading across their faces.

"Someone's following us?" Bai Zhou asked, incredulous. Liu Rushi, hovering beside Yue Shuangyi, lifted a hand and lazily extended a single finger toward the horizon. For the briefest instant, a figure cloaked entirely in black appeared against the sky, silhouetted by distant light. Then the vision faded, and the figure vanished as though it had never been there. Beside her, Li Kang drew in a sharp breath.

"Was that…" He swallowed, licking dry lips.

"Was that an assassin from Old Devil Fu's faction? Sent to follow us if we try to leave?" Li Deng, the last Core Formation cultivator among them, let out an amused chuckle.

"Ha. My boy, not at all. I don't recognize the fellow Daoist, but I know those robes. That was someone from Ancestor Qing's retinue, one of his hidden blades, deployed quietly." His eyes flicked toward the empty horizon.

"The old devil himself is far more circumspect. This is simply one of the major factions keeping watch. There are likely a dozen more scattered about." The three younger cultivators exchanged uneasy glances. The senior cultivators, by contrast, showed little surprise. If they weren't being watched, that would have been the true shock. The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

In fact, Mo Jian suspected the only reason Azure Wall City wasn't already surrounded by hordes of demonic cultivators was that Old Devil Fu himself was keeping a close eye on them using his Hell Reflecting Mirror. With him on the job, no one else was necessary. As for why he tolerated other factions stationing observers, the answer was simple: he did not mind an audience. On the contrary, witnesses would be useful. Let them spread the tale of what fate awaited those who crossed him.

"They…" Bai Zing's voice wavered, her tension deepening.

"Surely they won't interfere with Ning's advancement? It's already dangerous enough, with her refusing to listen to us. And now this…" Chi Shen, maintaining his flawless air of boredom and detachment, snapped his fan shut.

"They won't," he said lightly, offering a casual smile.

"We're all here. They'll only intervene if it appears we're attempting to flee. An advancement to Core Formation? That doesn't concern them. In their eyes, it won't change anything by tomorrow." Succinctly put, Mo Jian thought. He did not speak, but he agreed. As far as he could tell, it was an accurate assessment. His spiritual sense had long since mapped the hidden watchers encircling them. The restraint of their watchers was deliberate.

Fan Mei had even confided in him the night before that one of the qi signatures lingering near the city felt familiar to her; an assassin who had once attempted to kill Ancestor Qing, only to be captured and eventually defect to his service. One of his hidden blades, just as Li Deng had said. Before anyone could say anything else, it began. The sky above the peak erupted in color. Clouds of impossible hues tore into existence, coiling and twisting through the heavens as though the wind itself had awakened.

They churned faster and faster, folding over one another in vast spirals. Motes of light – blue, green, gold, white, and countless subtle shades between – gathered from every direction, racing upward toward the summit like streams drawn into a ravenous whirlpool. They streaked past one another, colliding and scattering radiant sparks. Each impact sent ripples through the air, silent yet immense, like thunder swallowed before it could sound. The mountain trembled.

The air grew rich and intoxicating, heavy with power. The briny scent of the sea mingled with pine and cold snow, saturating the senses. The breeze sharpened against exposed skin, alive with unseen force. Subtle vibrations hummed at the edge of hearing, from the distant susurration of waves far below, to the restless sway of trees, and even the deep resonance of stone and soil, all of it responding as qi surged toward a single, sovereign point.

Above, the clouds tightened into a vast funnel of mist and light descending from the heavens. It stretched downward in a luminous column, narrowing as it reached for the peak, like a finger from Heaven poised to touch the mortal realm. With every rotation of the vortex, shards of color and raw essence flung outward. Even those hovering far away felt their own qi stir and tug in response, as though called toward the gathering storm.

Any cultivator insufficiently guarded might have found their internal energy dragged into sympathetic motion. The Foundation Establishment cultivators stared in open awe. This was why they had been brought. To witness such a sight, to feel Heaven and Earth align so clearly, was a lesson no scroll or teacher could provide. Even Liu Rushi could not restrain herself.

"To summon a celestial phenomenon so swiftly…" she murmured.

"Perhaps I spoke too soon. Junior Bai Ning appears to have prepared thoroughly." Yue Shuangyi, hovering beside her master on a cushion of qi, nodded slowly. Her voice trembled despite her effort to steady it.

"Sister Bai Ning is always prepared. Still…" She hesitated, then offered a faint smile.

"It feels as though I am being left behind." Behind her, Li Kang's hands curled into fists, knuckles whitening as resolve kindled in his eyes. Chen Zhuhe appeared outwardly composed, arms folded loosely at his sides, yet his gaze never once strayed from the mountain. For the others, it was different. Mo Jian watched because Bai Ning was his disciple, and because her life rested, in part, upon his judgment. Her parents watched with hearts suspended between profound worry and overwhelming pride.

Gang Rong watched because he refused to look away, unwilling to concede to the envy coiled tightly in his chest. And the other Core Formation cultivators observed with faint, almost wistful nostalgia, recalling the terror and exhilaration of their own breakthroughs long past. Before them, the celestial phenomenon swelled in intensity. The vortex deepened. The mountain's tremors grew more pronounced. Streams of light thickened as they poured toward the summit.

It would be hours yet before the turbulence subsided, before the advancement truly concluded. For a long while, none of them moved. Gradually, however, the group began to disperse. Li Deng was the first to depart, cheerfully declaring that, since there appeared to be no immediate danger, he might as well return to prepare a celebration for Bai Ning's victorious emergence. Liu Rushi followed soon after, briskly ushering her student and the younger cultivators along.

"It is best to give her space afterward," she remarked.

"Too many faces the moment she descends would only unsettle her." Chi Shen was next. With a snap of his fan, he guided Gang Rong away. Gang Rong muttered something about feeling inspired and wishing to train, and did not resist. At last, Fan Mei descended from the peak. After patient reassurance and quiet insistence, she persuaded Bai Zhou and Bai Zing to leave as well, promising that she would inform them the moment the process neared its end. And so, Mo Jian was left alone.

He felt a flicker of gratitude toward Fan Mei for her thoughtfulness. There was a reason each Core Formation cultivator had found an excuse to depart. Witnessing the phenomenon was acceptable. But the final moment, when a cultivator bound their Natal artifact, was different. It was not always possible, but when the possibility existed, etiquette demanded discretion. To bind a Natal treasure was, in many ways, to bare one's soul.

For all her confidence, Mo Jian doubted Bai Ning would welcome such vulnerability before an audience. So he remained where he was, solitary against the sea wind, watching the heavens churn above the peak and waiting for his disciple to step into a new realm of existence. Besides, he had another purpose in mind. He remembered his own advancement; how invincible he had felt in that moment, how the world itself had seemed small beneath his feet. It was a heady sensation, intoxicating in its certainty.

A feeling he had only truly shed after his defeat at the hands of that young cultivator in the World of a Million Cubes. Power, newly grasped, could distort perspective. He did not want Bai Ning to grow arrogant after her breakthrough. A sparring match, then, would be appropriate, once she finished. They would need to find another uninhabited island, though. Preferably one larger than this. A faint smile tugged at his lips. In his own way, he was looking forward to it. ………………………………………......................

The Heaven Enshrouding Ding swelled with a surge of spiritual force, expanding until it loomed like a mountain before plunging downward like a falling star. It struck the island with the force of a divine fist. The earth split. Forests were crushed flat. The island convulsed beneath the blow, as if resisting the will of something far greater than itself. A colossal crater bloomed at the point of impact. Trees, rock, and running streams were obliterated or flung skyward in shattered fragments, pulverized into dust.

The surrounding sea reared in fury, walls of water rising high before collapsing in thunderous succession. Even the clouds above were torn apart as the spiritual pressure of two Core Formation cultivators collided without restraint. But Mo Jian wasn't finished. Suspended in the sky like a judge passing sentence, he flicked his sleeve. The lid of the great ding burst open with a deafening clang, and a torrent of blue flame poured forth, roaring fire threaded with crackling spiritual lightning.

It cascaded across the island, melting stone and boiling the sea. Forests vanished in an instant, reduced to ash. The ground glowed molten red, glassing under the heat. The air itself seemed to scream as the inferno swept outward, turning the once-green island into a vision of hell. No Foundation Establishment cultivator could have survived such an opening strike. Even among newly advanced Core Formation experts, few would have emerged unscathed. And yet, Bai Ning remained completely unmoved.

High above, Mo Jian felt her qi rise in response, steady, calm, and faintly amused. She was enjoying this. Then her spiritual pressure surged, flaring like a beacon. In the blink of an eye, a sword of emerald light tore through the sky. It began as a glimmer no larger than a blade, but as it flew it grew, first to the size of a man, then a giant, then larger still. By the time it reached the ding, it had become a titanic weapon, radiant and absolute, capable of cleaving mountains and parting seas.

The collision was catastrophic. The impact rang out like a divine gong struck by lightning. Shockwaves tore through the sea and sky. The sword spun violently before stabilizing midair with a shriek of displaced wind, while the ding was hurled backward, carving a molten trench through the shattered land. The earth collapsed in its wake, chunks of the island tumbling into the boiling sea. The battlefield teetered on the edge of annihilation.

Yet more than the devastation, more than the broken skies and heaving oceans, what struck Mo Jian most was the jolt that ran through his own bones. True, he was holding back, careful not to overwhelm her. Even so, he had struck with force equivalent to a mid-stage Core Formation cultivator. Bai Ning, newly advanced and still brimming with untapped potential, had met his attack head-on and held. A fierce, proud smile tugged at his lips. She truly was exceptional. But it was time to stop holding back quite so much.

Mo Jian raised a hand. The Heaven Enshrouding Ding answered at once, contracting from its mountain-sized form in a breath, shrinking back to its usual state with the sound of collapsing stone. It shot through the air to hover before him, steady and alert, like a loyal guardian awaiting command. With a single thought, he split it. The artifact fractured into three identical copies, each infused with his spiritual will. One remained at his side, humming with suppressed power, its surface glowing faintly in defense.

Another plunged downward, intercepting the massive emerald sword still pressing against the land. The third roared across the battlefield, blue fire spilling from its mouth as it arced toward Bai Ning, who hovered above the scorched island like a war goddess. The copy rushing to meet her sword swelled mid-flight, expanding to nearly half its previous size, still large enough to dwarf mountains.

When they collided, the air screamed, and a fresh shockwave thundered outward as heaven and earth seemed to crash together once more. Bai Ning answered without hesitation. Her Green Destiny Sword pulsed once with radiant light, then split into three as well. The original continued to contest his attacking ding. The second streaked toward Mo Jian like a bolt of jade lightning. The third wheeled through the smoke-choked sky to intercept the artifact bearing down on her.

In the span of a heartbeat, the battlefield fractured into three simultaneous duels, flashes of flame and lightning, ringing metal, and roaring winds tearing through the sky. Blue fire clashed with arcs of golden lightning as Bai Ning unleashed the Transcendence Lightning bound within her sword. The air between them burned and sparked, trembling beneath the weight of their spiritual pressure. Mo Jian found himself blocking, parrying, and striking on all three fronts as Bai Ning matched him step for step.

Manipulating multiple artifacts was expected at the Core Formation level. Doing so with this degree of precision just after advancing, in the chaos of live combat, was not. She defended with seamless grace while still pressing an offense against him, her attacks sharp and relentless, bearing the confidence of someone far beyond her years. In raw power, she was still his inferior. But the gap was far smaller than he had anticipated. Mo Jian grimaced, not in pain, but in something closer to awe.

He had lived for more than two centuries and crossed blades with countless foes. Yet here he was, fighting a girl not yet twenty, and maintaining the advantage only through experience and hard-won advantages of his own. It was humbling and exhilarating. But more than anything, it was enough.

"Let's stop here. I yield." His voice was calm, almost amused, as he swept his sleeve through the air. The Heaven Enshrouding Ding responded at once, retracting from its threefold form and collapsing into a single mote of light that vanished into his body with a quiet hum. Below, Bai Ning rose from the scorched remains of the island, drifting until she hovered before him. Her expression shone with pure satisfaction.

The Green Destiny Sword pulsed once more, then dissolved into a streak of light that flowed back into her arm.

"For a sparring match," Mo Jian said lightly, though his words carried weight, "that was more than sufficient. I'm impressed, Bai Ning. You've refined the Green Destiny Sword beautifully." Bai Ning's face lit up with genuine delight. She straightened, lifted her hand, and offered him a formal cultivator's salute; solemn, precise, yet still brimming with joy.

"It was all thanks to your teachings, Master," she said. He nearly smiled. No, it hadn't been just his guidance. She was like the lotus, blooming not because of the mud, but despite it. She had grown not under perfect guidance, but through her own relentless drive, her own unyielding spirit. Whatever part he had played was secondary to the sheer inevitability of her brilliance. But he didn't say that. He had, after all, some dignity to uphold as her teacher.

So instead, Mo Jian inclined his head and replied, "There's no need to call me 'Master' anymore." She blinked.

"You've reached the stage where we may stand as equals. From now on, let us be fellow travelers on the Dao." He returned her salute, voice clear as the wind sweeping through the broken clouds.

"I greet you, fellow Daoist Bai Ning. That was a match worth remembering." For a heartbeat, she could only stare, caught between disbelief and joy. Then she laughed, bright and ringing, her voice scattering the last remnants of smoke and tension from the sky. Mo Jian let the sound wash over him, feeling not the weight of responsibility, but something like release. It was done. The rain-soaked, stubborn girl who had once stood outside his cave had become a cultivator in her own right.

And she was no longer his disciple. Bai Ning spun once in midair, arms spread, her qi sparkling like starlight.

"Daoist Bai Ning," she said, tasting the words.

"That sounds amazing! Are you sure you're not joking, Mas… Daoist Mo Jian? Ugh, that feels strange." He raised an eyebrow.

"Do I look like I'm joking? Use it or don't. It's simply a reflection of your status." She grinned, then fell silent, thoughtful.

"Still… thank you. This means more than you know." He nodded, his tone gentler now.

"You've earned it. Core Formation isn't just a milestone. It's a threshold. From here on, the choices are yours alone. And so are the consequences." She nodded, eyes bright, comprehension clear in their depths. They stood together as the sun drifted toward the horizon, the sky bleeding from gold into amber and crimson. Between the breakthrough and the sparring match, the day had slipped away almost unnoticed. Bai Ning's gaze lingered on the sinking light, restless yet calm.

"Master," she said, the word slipping out before she could stop it, "about the duel tomorrow… are you ready?" Mo Jian smiled, unhurried.

"I was ready a week ago." He lifted his face to the sky and drew in a long, slow breath, the fading light casting his features in sharp, serene shadow.

"If I'm honest, I'm looking forward to finishing it. And you know my intent. If things go as I plan, it won't even be much of a fight." Bai Ning gave a quiet hum.

"I doubt the old devil will see it that way." He did not answer. There was no need. Whatever Old Devil Fu thought mattered little. He would win, and leave no room for doubt. He watched the sun sink beneath the sea, the last rim of light bleeding slowly into the horizon. The waves glimmered like molten gold, the sky caught between day and night, and in that fleeting moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. When the sun rose again, the world would not be the same.