Destiny in Cinders

An Jing entered his sea of consciousness with Yvelbane watching over him. Advancing to the Tide Aura Stage wasn’t difficult; it was simply a matter of gradual accumulation.

The human body was much like a large water vat. An ordinary person’s innate qi was just a bit of damp vapor trapped within the vat. Once that moisture evaporated and disappeared, the person grew old and died.

Prior to reaching the Aura Realm, all martial techniques, no matter how complex, ultimately boiled down to refining the mind, body, and skill. Through methods of motion and stillness, martial practitioners condensed yin and yang, transforming their innate qi from misty vapor into liquid droplets, and finally into controllable wisps of aura.

Following that was the steady condensation of aura until the vat was filled to the brim. At this point, even violent shaking would fail to cause a ripple, marking the peak of the Tide Aura Stage. A martialist could then attempt to form a wonder and break the boundary between the Aura and Fortification Realms.

The overall progression through the Aura Realm was quite simple, demanding less complexity than the initial threshold crossing. Just as being a porter wasn’t inherently difficult but became nearly impossible to sustain into old age, the body’s qi essence also continuously depleted over time. Most people accumulated aura rapidly before turning thirty, after which their efficiency steadily declined. Eventually, it would become all they could do to merely maintain their current level of strength before it inevitably faded away entirely as death approached.

Those with average talent could still reach the River Aura Stage before the age of thirty, provided they started from a young age. But without the aid of spirit items and other resources, they would never be able to reach the Tide Aura Stage in their entire lifetime.

Even those blessed with exceptional talent found it difficult to cross this threshold. The greater their genius, the faster their aura condensed, but their ”water vat” was correspondingly larger. Thus, the time spent didn’t shrink by much. The only difference was the amount of aura they commanded within the same stage.

Wealthy families could easily overcome this hurdle by accumulating vast resources. By producing numerous descendants, it took only one of them to awaken their lifearc for the family to secure a Fortification Realm martialist or Clearing Realm adept, cementing their status as a dominant power in the region. Talent, resources, and luck—these were the three great hurdles. They had the means to overcome the first two, and the final hurdle, luck, could be countered by raising numerous descendants and nurturing them from an early age.

An ordinary person needed talent above all else, so they could first cross the threshold of the Tide Aura Stage completely unaided by resources, and then awaken their lifearc without perishing before their time. Only then could they achieve true success.

All three major hurdles had to be thoroughly overcome. Yet, even after moving past these challenges, martialists still faced the constraints of their techniques. Given identical talent and cultivation levels, the person with the better technique had the edge. In this regard, distinguished families and sects held the advantage yet again.

A single person could never stand against a whole organization. Yet An Jing defied this rule. Not only did he possess extraordinary talent, he also had access to the resources of two worlds alongside the formidable techniques granted by his celestial arc, the demonic cult, and Yvelbane.

Thus, no matter how immense his ”water vat” was, he could fill it in no time at all. He was also able to rapidly develop an overwhelming level of combat power. A figure like him, capable of building a dominant force from the ground up, was destined to stir up tempests and throw the world into upheaval.

Is this why people still fight to build factions and establish sects or nations despite the existence of lifearcs? As long as one controls vast resources and secures a large enough population, even lifearcs and destiny itself will be within reach just by waiting.

Thoughts churned relentlessly within his mind. At first, An Jing couldn’t comprehend why his focus had drifted to such matters. But before long, it became clear; he was reflecting on the inner workings of the world.

Though the Seven Ruins Arc was destined to upend the world order, An Jing had no intention of blindly waging war against the ruling dynasties and aristocratic clans as his predecessors had done. Such an endeavor was entirely futile.

Even if he brought the world to ruin and burned everything to ash, it would just be another cycle. Whether or not the bearer of the Seven Ruins Arc could successfully overthrow the world, so long as humanity endured and populations grew, new dynasties, sects, and powerful clans would always emerge.

To reshape the world and establish a new paradigm, individual power alone wouldn’t suffice. An Jing needed a profound understanding of how the ruling factions wielded their influence. By understanding them inside out, he could truly dismantle them.

But that’s not all. As An Jing waited for the spirit item to be digested through Pentaorgan Lifeforce Nourishment, his thoughts drifted to his father’s long-cherished dream of passing the highest imperial examination.

Aside from the strategy of accumulating resources, multiplying descendants, taking in disciples, and waiting for destiny to align, Grand Chen’s hegemony over the Northblack Sacrifice Continent was preserved through its authority to confer official titles and bestow extended longevity.

Despite his mediocre aptitude, his father was one of the commended and served as the deputy county magistrate in their hometown. He was able to use a few basic techniques, such as refreshing, lightness, and hawkeye techniques.

It was exactly because of these skills that the An clan and many like them had thrived, resulting in the growing stability of Grand Chen, allowing it to consolidate its power. As an adversary, Grand Chen was a truly terrifying force. Though it was weak and plagued by corruption, it would never collapse on its own. Because in their desperate pursuit of a mandate and longevity, any smart person who failed to awaken their lifearc would naturally align themselves with the imperial court, reinforcing the system as its strongest pillars.

This was the reason An Jing still chose to travel through Grand Chen alone, despite possessing Yvelbane, a band of disaster children, and the potential investment and support of Gu Yeqi’s family. His decision was motivated partly by his wariness of the heavenly fiends lurking within Grand Chen and partly by his desire for a thorough understanding of the empire from every perspective.

Knowing himself and the enemy was the key to victory, but ultimately, true strength came from within. An Jing understood his priorities clearly. With his current level of strength, entering Grand Chen and getting dragged into the chaos surrounding the Gu clan would only complicate things immensely, making it impossible for him to establish his own power.

It made more sense to become stronger first and build a force later. After all, Clearing Realm adepts could establish cities, Treasures Realm sages could found schools, and Sanctification Realm venerated could even create an entire sect or forge an empire. A person’s starting point was defined by their strength!

The winding path is the true shortcut, and the apparent shortcut is really a long road in disguise. Once he understood everything, An Jing’s mind cleared completely. Right then, the goldfur bear paw he had consumed began to digest, burning fiercely through his body.

It felt as though a sudden inferno had erupted within his torso. Tiny, blade-like streams of heat surged from his stomach to his lungs, from his lungs to his heart, and finally radiated out to every part of his body. An Jing used Sword of Tranquility and Pentaorgan Lifeforce Nourishment, bringing the heat flow under control. He transformed the streams into miniature files meant for polishing the rusty sword, and directed them through his entire meridian network.

Externally, An Jing began to draw long, measured breaths, each exhalation flowing without the slightest disruption as he adopted a fleeting intent to better condense the metal-aspect energy of the spirit item into a single mass. Internally, his psychic will continuously guided the abundant innate qi to temper his meridians, aligning his intent with the transformative nature of metal.

Under this dual approach, An Jing absorbed the goldfur bear paw’s innate qi, his previously steady aura rapidly surging and growing more profound. He braced himself. Once his aura crossed the critical point, he would be torn apart by the violent storm of aura if his body and meridians were too weak or if his control faltered.

Yet, even after his aura smoothly crossed the threshold into the Tide Aura Stage, he didn’t sense the slightest hint of danger.

Huh? Eventually, An Jing, having successfully broken through to the next stage, opened his eyes with a tight furrow in his brow. Have I already broken through?