Chapter 157: Mastering the Inner-Spirit!
For the next three days, the Fan Family’s Hall of Resonant Trials echoed with the thunder of beasts, the hum of sword qi, and the steady rhythm of a man pushing the limits of mortal endurance.
Mo Han arrived each morning before sunrise and left only when the moon had fully risen. Every day, without fail, he placed another pouch of aura stones — one thousand per session (10 hours) — onto the counter. The attendants had stopped gasping after the first day, but whispers about the mysterious man from the Eternal Night Mansion spread like wildfire through the estate.
He was the cultivator who never rested, the one who fought illusions as if the forest itself were his enemy.
Inside the chamber, the illusion of the forest roared to life each day. The scent of damp soil and resin hung thick in the air, trees towering over him, the sky painted in a wash of molten gold.
The Golden Boar appeared again — its massive body shimmering with runic light, its tusks gleaming like twin blades of the sun.
But this time, Mo Han did not struggle.
The first day, his control over the beast art had been raw — unstable, a contest of will more than mastery. He could block the boar’s charges but not redirect them, deflect the tusks but not use their momentum. Each clash left deep imprints of his boots in the illusory soil. His breathing was steady, but the system’s evaluation still showed gaps.
Now, his movements flowed with precision.
When the boar charged, the ground trembled beneath its hooves. Mo Han exhaled, sinking his energy into the earth.
Inner Beast Spirit Art — Golden Boar: Second Movement, "Earthen Pulse."
A low vibration rippled outward, invisible to the eye but tangible in force. The ground softened momentarily beneath the charging beast, its weight sinking, its balance disrupted. In that instant, Mo Han moved — light, efficient, cutting a perfect crescent through the air.
The sword hummed with power. Its edge grazed the boar’s hide, drawing sparks of gold and silver light. The beast bellowed, its energy dispersing into fragments.
The voice of the chamber spoke from the air:
"Simulation round complete. Accuracy — 89%. Aura control — 93%. Reaction proficiency — 85%. Overall efficiency — 89%."
The room shimmered back into silver walls.
Mo Han lowered his sword, breathing evenly. Sweat dripped down his neck, glistening under the ambient light, but his eyes remained sharp, calculating. He studied the air where the data symbols hovered and muttered, "Still not stable enough. The merge between aura and soil essence needs smoother rhythm."
He took a sip of spiritual water from the flask beside him, then sat cross-legged to meditate. The illusion chamber hummed softly, the formation circles under his feet glowing faintly in response to his presence.
Outside the chamber, the Fan Family attendants whispered quietly among themselves.
"Ten hours every day," one murmured. "And he hasn’t left the estate since the first morning."
"Did you see his focus? He doesn’t even take breaks. Eats only once, meditates, then goes back in again."
"The system said his efficiency rose from eighty-five to eighty-nine percent in just two days. That’s... impossible for someone new to the formation."
Their conversation hushed abruptly as soft footsteps echoed through the corridor.
A young woman in pale lilac robes walked toward them. Her presence alone drew quiet awe. She was Fan Ruyu, the young mistress of the Fan Family — known for her grace, wisdom, and her father’s indulgence in all matters concerning the estate.
Her hair, dark as raven feathers, was tied with a jade comb. Her eyes carried a subtle curiosity as she stopped before the attendants. "Is he still training?" she asked softly.
The eldest servant bowed. "Yes, Young Lady. Since dawn. He has been inside for eight hours now."
Fan Ruyu tilted her head. "Eight hours... again?"
"Yes. He pays in advance — one hundred aura stones per hour. Never negotiates."
A faint smile curved her lips. "A rare man indeed."
Her gaze moved toward the glowing silver doors at the end of the hall. Through the faint energy barrier, she could sense the pulse of aura within — deep, resonant, alive. It rolled like a heartbeat, strong and steady.
"He’s from the Eternal Night Mansion, isn’t he?" she asked without turning.
The servants exchanged uneasy glances. The Eternal Night Mansion’s reputation carried both reverence and rumor.
"Yes, Young Lady," one said finally. "They say he’s the Pleasure Healer. The man who healed the wives of nobles and cured countless cultivators through his dual-cultivation arts. Some say he’s blessed by the gods of desire themselves."
Fan Ruyu blinked once, taken aback — then chuckled softly, covering her mouth with her sleeve. "A pleasure doctor? And yet he spends his days fighting beasts in our hall?"
The servant nodded quickly. "Yes, Young Lady. But... he’s different from what the rumors suggest. He’s polite. Silent. Doesn’t even glance at anyone unnecessarily."
That made her curious. Most men who earned such a title flaunted it like a crown. But this one — this man who spent thousands of aura stones just to train in solitude — seemed made of different steel.
Fan Ruyu thought for a moment before saying, "Inform the accountant. As of now, there will be no charges for his sessions."
The servants blinked in surprise. "Young Lady?"
Her tone was calm but decisive. "He’s improving our hall’s reputation merely by using it. Let him train as long as he wishes. Consider it a gesture of goodwill — and perhaps... investment."
She turned away before they could respond, her lilac sleeves fluttering like silk petals.
Inside the chamber, Mo Han stood once again before the simulated forest.
He could feel the difference. The first two days had tested his endurance; now, the formation adapted to his rhythm, syncing more closely with his energy.
The system voice intoned softly:
"New parameter unlocked — Extended Combat Mode. Duration: 120 minutes. Calibration increased by 20%."
Mo Han nodded once.
He summoned his aura. The ground shuddered, and the golden boar burst forth again — but this time, there were two.
Their combined roar shook the air.
Mo Han didn’t move immediately. His eyes narrowed. Every fiber of his being resonated with the pulse of the beasts. He could sense their intent, their energy rhythm, even the subtle shifts in the illusion’s wind.
He inhaled deeply, drawing the essence of earth into his spirit veins. His sword flickered with a faint golden glow — not pure fire this time, but tempered flame, reinforced by the density of soil aura.
As both boars charged, he stepped forward, aura flaring outward in a wide arc.
"Inner Beast Spirit Art — Golden Boar: Third Movement, Twin Horn Submission!"
The air cracked. His aura manifested as a shimmering barrier shaped like twin tusks, curving in front of him. When the beasts collided, the impact rippled through the illusion, waves of force rolling outward — but Mo Han held his ground, channeling the recoil back through his stance.
The tusks shattered into golden mist, scattering across the trees.
The system’s tone returned, cooler this time.
"Simulation round complete. Accuracy — 94%. Aura control — 96%. Reaction proficiency — 91%. Overall efficiency — 93%."
Mo Han sheathed his sword, chest rising and falling steadily. A faint smile touched his lips. "Now... it begins to feel natural."
He turned toward the invisible sky above the illusion, feeling the faint hum of approval from the formation core itself — as if even the system acknowledged his progress.
Three days of unbroken effort had transformed his movements, sharpened his control, and deepened his understanding of the Golden Boar Spirit. He had not yet merged fully, but he could now feel the spirit’s essence breathing within him — heavy, steady, unyielding.
Outside, the attendants noted the change too. The chamber lights burned brighter whenever Mo Han trained, the energy readings higher than ever recorded. And every evening, the young lady of the Fan Family paused briefly at the hallway’s end, her gaze soft as she watched the glow behind those silver doors.
"He is really a master," she murmured once, half to herself. "And yet there’s no pride in his eyes. Only resolve."
The servants said nothing. They could feel it too — the quiet storm brewing within that chamber.
On the fourth morning, as the first rays of dawn touched the Fan Estate, the silver doors opened — and Mo Han stepped out. His eyes were calm, his aura stable, but the air around him carried a faint tremor of power.
The attendants bowed deeply. Fan Ruyu watched from the balcony above, her gaze meeting his for the briefest moment.
-
Tq for support!