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Chapter 6
Soaring Freedom
Wasn’t it true that one understood their own affairs best?
Na Jin’s cultivation realm was too low, and his spiritual energy was insufficient. The inferior-grade flying sword he possessed looked decent on the surface, but in reality, it was practically useless. Having never learned even the most basic Guiding Technique, the sword was nothing more than a blade he could hold and swing by hand.
In truth, the original owner of this body had once lived in the outermost regions of the city and had entered the mountains to help others transport demonic beast meat back to town.
In such circumstances, what was the best way to preserve one’s life?
The answer was obvious—run as fast as possible.
In theory, nothing was better than fleeing with movement techniques like the Divine Movement Talisman or riding magical artifacts for short bursts of flight. For Qi Refining cultivators, simple running techniques were often the most practical.
By contrast, the worst method was using the Wind Control Art.
Unfortunately, Divine Movement Talismans were extremely expensive—beyond the reach of ordinary people. As for magical artifacts, they required guiding techniques to operate, and even then, their efficiency was not necessarily better than Wind Control Art.
But even Wind Control Art, a relatively common technique, had been far beyond Na Jin’s means in the past. Each use cost dozens of lower-grade spirit stones.
As a result, he had no choice but to turn to mundane martial arts—specifically, lightness techniques.
Though ordinary, they were not useless—and they required no spiritual energy.
Na Jin simply did not have much spiritual energy to begin with. Low-level cultivators had such limited reserves that, in combat, they often had to stand still and cast techniques like a fixed turret. In such a case, a non–spiritual-energy-based movement art was the perfect fit.
Sitting at his doorway, Na Jin opened a lightness technique manual he had purchased from the market for ten taels of gold.
<Soaring Freedom (逍遙遊)>
What an impressive name.
Even its introduction sounded grand:
“One who rides the essence of heaven and earth, who moves endlessly under the six qi, boundless and without limit!”
Of course, in reality, it was nothing more than the author’s grand fantasy.
After studying it carefully several times with a serious expression, Na Jin decided to try it.
Or rather—try his feet.
This was not a combat-oriented footwork technique based on strange stepping patterns, but one focused on force distribution, unloading momentum, and maintaining steady breathing while moving at high speed over long distances.
At first, Na Jin was completely unfamiliar with it.
“Force distribution… momentum control… what even are these? How are you supposed to govern the six qi with this?”
But after running back and forth across the field by the stream all morning, he began to grasp something.
“When the wind is strong, you have to move with its direction, not against it. If there are branches or hills, use force to leap over them, then release tension mid-air to land lightly and use the rebound to accelerate. Breathing must remain steady, and the mind calm. It’s not enjoyable, but I have to stay focused and keep going… huh? This movement art is actually interesting.”
During lunch, while checking his proficiency panel, he suddenly noticed a new entry.
[Soaring Freedom — Entry: 13/100]
“It’s not just entry-level—it’s also increasing quickly…”
“If cultivation is like a turtle climbing a mountain, then martial arts are like a bird flying through the sky.”
“So I might actually be one of those rare martial geniuses…”
Na Jin hugged his large rice bowl and laughed heartily.
Unfortunately, martial arts could not grant immortality. Otherwise, why wouldn’t everyone choose it?
In the afternoon, he continued training Soaring Freedom. The more he practiced, the more natural it felt, and his proficiency steadily rose.
During a break, he thought it over.
In the end, wasn’t all of this due to his strengthened body?
He ate spirit rice and demonic beast meat daily, and cultivated with Eternal Spring Art to replenish spiritual energy. Even a pig would have turned into a demonic beast under such conditions.
When the body becomes stronger, movement naturally becomes stronger.
Even those top-tier basketball players in his previous world weren’t just skilled—they had exceptional physical foundations first.
Right now, he had both a strong body and cultivation methods to enhance it, even if his skill application wasn’t yet at a top level. He was simply developing what already existed within him.
By evening, Na Jin sat in the stream, submerged up to his chest, scooping up yellow mud.
From memory, he molded a clay figure.
It had narrow, elongated eyes, thick brows, and a stern, dignified face. It even carried a faint aura of authority—good enough that even an art student would praise it.
“General Guan, please wait. Tonight I will attach your beard and refine you with a Green Dragon Crescent Blade.”
As he murmured this, a distant roar echoed from the mountain fields. Several streaks of light shot up from the forest.
Startled, Na Jin quickly stood up, returned home, grabbed his flying sword, and locked the door tightly.
At that same moment, across the field, where the weeds had already settled, several cultivators gazed deeply into the mountain depths.
One of them spoke:
“Why are frost wolf packs appearing so frequently lately?”
“Bad luck. We didn’t even have time to properly store those two first-tier beasts we hunted.”
“Perhaps there’s a power struggle among wolves in the Howling Moon Mountain Range. Hundreds of years ago, something similar happened, and entire packs fled outward.”
“Forget it. Let’s return to the market and rest. We’ve been exhausted lately.”
“Agreed. At least no one was injured.”
They exchanged a few words—part frustration, part relief.
As they passed near Na Jin’s house, they were about to continue on, but suddenly stopped.
A clear female voice called out:
“Daoist friends, this area is not very safe lately. If possible, you should move closer to the inner city.”
But Na Jin did not respond.
Because if he had the ability to move, he would have already done so.
Even inner-city outskirts were still dangerous in the end.
In reality, cultivators often spoke carelessly. Moreover, Na Jin had personally seen blood-soaked corpses on the road leading to the inner city more than once.
Although this place was dangerous, outer fields were maintained by patrol cultivators each year, forming defensive lines against beasts. Low-tier demonic beasts would not enter on instinct, and even second-tier beasts rarely approached human settlements.
So relatively speaking, his current location was actually safer.
Na Jin lived frugally, earning only a few spirit stones a month, so few cultivators paid attention to him.
“Why bother with him?”
“He’s just some newcomer bathing in the stream in broad daylight and sculpting mud figures.”
“Let’s go.”
With no response received, the group muttered and continued on their way.
Listening to their fading footsteps, Na Jin let out a small sigh of relief.
He feared cultivators even more than demonic beasts. But he also had to admit—they had a point.
If something abnormal truly happened in the Howling Moon Mountain Range, this region might become dangerous.
‘Now that my mind is settled… tomorrow I’ll officially begin pill refining. This time, I must succeed!’
After a full day of rest, both body and mind felt at their peak.
At dawn, after completing one cycle of Eternal Spring Art, Na Jin put on his dusty apron and walked into the kitchen.
There stood the clay figure holding a wooden blade, with long beard already attached, staring forward sternly.
“General Guan… please bless me.”
He calmed his mind, filled the cauldron with water, and added firewood. Then he ignited the flame with Fireball Technique.
Step by step, he boiled auxiliary ingredients, stir-fried mineral components, added broth, and simmered.
Next came herbs such as fleeceflower root, jade mountain herb, and fire-thread petals.
After roughly three shi chen (about six hours) of boiling, he added a water-element spirit medicine to balance yin and yang.
Sometimes strong fire, sometimes weak flame—he carefully adjusted the temperature.
After another two hours, he finally lifted the lid.
Inside the cauldron was a pot of thick red paste, trembling like jelly when stirred with a wooden ladle.
But still—it was a failure.
According to the formula, the finished product should have been a deep crimson solid. Only such a Mysterious Marvel Pill could fully maximize masculine vitality.
Still, Na Jin was not too disappointed.
At least he had come close.
The paste had already reached a gelatinous stage. For cultivators who did not fear toxicity, consuming the entire pot might have produced some effect—though with severe side effects.
He carefully tasted a small amount to compare medicinal potency, then nodded while reviewing his process.
Finally, he dumped the entire batch into the stream.
That night, he cultivated as usual and slept.
The next day, he performed the ritual bow toward General Guan and began again.
He failed again.
On the third day, he bowed once more and began refining.
This time—
He succeeded.
At last, success!
Na Jin stared at the Mysterious Marvel Pill, now glowing deep red with a firm, elastic texture, and felt tears welling at the corners of his eyes.
“Eight failures… that’s equivalent to losing forty spirit stones…”
“If I count the forty Bigu Powder batches I could have made in that time, I’ve lost another eight spirit stones…”
“Hah… I almost lost everything.”
Without hesitation, he quickly cut the cauldron contents into pieces with a bamboo blade and shaped them into round pills.
Now he only needed to let them cool overnight.
With remaining materials, he could refine one more batch.
The next morning, he rushed to the kitchen as soon as he woke up.
As expected, the ten lumps had shrunk to the size of dragon eyes—completely dried and condensed into true essence.
One single pill could send a man soaring to the heavens.
