I Can Only Cultivate In A Game

"Let us call today, Fang Chen Day!" someone shouted from the back. "The day we got our town back!"

"The day we stood up 'cause he gave us the guts to!"

"The day of independence!"

"Fang Chen Independent Day!" a woman yelled with her voice cracking, but nobody cared... the phrase stuck.

It ricocheted from wall to wall. People repeated it. Louder. Stronger. Laughing. Crying.

...

...

In the town square, stood the old statue of Lingyun... the legendary swordsman who created this town stood silently beneath the moon.

A man with his sword extended, left palm out, guarding, defying. Tonight, the stone looked almost alive under the torchlight.

"Erect another!" a blacksmith bellowed while hoisting his hammer overhead. "Right next to our great Lingyun!"

"The boy's got moves like the old hero!" another cackled, clasping his grandson's shoulder. "He's a descendant. Has to be!"

A hush fell. In Lingyun Town, legend was as real as bread and water. If the people believed it, it was almost true already.

Victor rubbed his forehead. "I'm not—"

Liu Shen raised both hands. "Whether you are or not, young master Fang, you saved us. That is all that matters. Let us honor the living as we honor the dead."

The crowd cheered again, and the decision was made before Victor could shape protest into words.

A small team of carving masters, stone shapers and rune carvers broke off immediately. They tore down one of the defaced Qin monoliths and hauled its shattered blocks to the square. Even in ruin, they saw raw material.

"Make him with that blade he used tonight!"

"No, no—make the qi swirl! The dark crescent he used!"

"He should stand beside Lingyun, not beneath!"

Victor pinched the bridge of his nose, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. He didn't like statues. Statues were targets. But: these people had been starved of heroes. If stones and names gave them the spine to stand next time, then let them build.

He turned to Chen Wen. "You'll reopen Lingyun Rest?"

The youngster nodded vigorously. "Yes! The kitchen's in ruins, but—Father still has his recipes. And I remember how to serve the house special."

Chen Guang chuckled loudly. "Give us a week, and there will wines and noodles and spice stew flowing again."

Victor squeezed his shoulder. "Good. Make it better than ever."

Liu Shen bowed again. "As for the Pavilion—those guards are gone. The ledgers, I still have hidden copies. We will replenish stock, rebuild trust. Trade will be clean again." He lifted his head with steady eyes. "If you ever need a favor, our doors will be open."

"I'll collect," Victor said lightly.

Victor took a breath and cast his senses outward one more time, confirming there were no lingering threats, no hidden assassins waiting for an opportune moment. The Qin power structure had collapsed. Those who didn't surrender were dead or fled. The Bai who chose to remain were now allied.

By midnight, the bonfires had been lit in celebration across Lingyun Town. Performers improvised songs. Children ran in the streets, waving scraps of cloth like flags. Someone strung lanterns along the rooftops; another poured wine into shared clay cups. In the distance, chisels already began to chip at stone beneath the giant statue of Lingyun.

Victor's game system pinged one last time.

[ Reputation: Lingyun Town – MAX. You cannot gain more favor here. ]

[ Citizens will now fight and die for you without question. ]

[ Local Statues: 1 (Lingyun) → 2 (Pending Construction: Fang Chen) ]

He laughed softly under his breath. "That's excessive."

But the warmth crawled up his chest anyway. He let himself enjoy it. Just for a moment.

'This feels more real than it should...'

...

...

Time flew by and Victor's day in the real world blurred by.

At this point, it was already over a week since he began his punishment.

Today was a mixture of weighted laps in the dome's circulation pool, the sting of mana beams skimming past his ears underwater, lectures where instructors droned about battlefield triage and mana economization, then the dull scrape of mop heads and scrub drones ringing across tiled academy floors.

He burned through his punishment shift the same way he did everything else lately... fast.

By dusk he was back under his sheets with the helmet snug fitly on his head and Kairo nowhere in sight.

Darkness folded, pixels flared, and the world reformed around him.

He exhaled into the smell of old wood and spice broth.

Lingyun Rest had been reborn and reclaimed.

The room Chen Wu insisted he take was simple: lacquered floorboards, a low cot by the window, a clay lamp still warm, a folded blanket waiting like a polite bow.

Outside, the murmur of late-night patrons drifted up the stairwell: laughter, clinking cups, the rasp of dice on wood.

Victor sat on the edge of the bed, flexing his fingers. For the first time in… he couldn't even remember, there was no red countdown pulsing at the edge of his vision.

No quest timer chewing a hole in his skull. No "urgent objective" pinging like a drill sergeant's baton.

Silence....

He stared at the far wall and then he finally let himself grin.

"Alright," he whispered. "Let's see what I've been ignoring."

In the next instant, an interface flooded his sight.

[DING!]

[ Pending Rewards Detected ]

— Hidden Achievements x4 – Rewards Unclaimed

— Treasure Chests: 9 Rare, 2 Gold, 4 Silver

— Qi Pools Overflow: +480,000 Wisps of Qi (Unabsorbed)

— New Techniques:

• Skyfire Spiral II (Dragon Breathing Arts Branch)

• Void Severing Thread (Void Emperor Bloodline Passive/Active Hybrid)

• Sky Walker (Movement Scroll)

• Silent Needle Array (Tier 2 Seal)

• Echo Veil Sense (Bloodline Ability – Echolocation Variant)

He'd seen fragments of these notifications bursting during crises, half-read them in the corner of his eye between explosions. But reading and receiving were different things.

He pulled the lamp closer, though he didn't need light. Habit.

"Let's cash in."

He accepted the Qi pools first, causing qi to flood into him. He pushed it through his meridians, spreading it evenly until the burn softened to warmth.

[ Bloodline Integration +3%: 81 → 84% ]

[ Nascent Soul Realm – Progress: 42% → 47% ]

[ Title Earned: "Anchor of Fractured Gates" ]

[ Passive Buff: Sealcraft Aptitude +15% ]

[ World Ripple: Minor – Name registered in three regional scrolls ]

He snorted. "They can register this," he muttered while summoning the first Rare chest.

It materialized as a cube of obsidian threaded with violet veins. Touching it sent a thrum up his arm. He pressed his palm flat.

The lid dissolved into motes.

Inside lay a sword guard shaped like a crescent moon, a scroll bound in black silk, and two pellets of liquid-looking gold.

[ Rare Chest Opened ]

— "Moonshadow Guard" (Artifact Component) – When attached to a sword, increases qi channeling by 22%, reduces backlash from powerful techniques.

— "Heaven-Listening Scroll" – One-time consumable. When activated, reveals the true nature of a foe's core technique within a ten-mile radius.

— "Soul-Tide Pellets" x2 – Refines Nascent Soul threads, strengthening soul-based attacks/defenses.

Victor whistled low. "Now we're talking."

He pocketed the guard, feeling the compatibility with his current blade.

The scroll he set aside carefully and kept the pellet for later. He didn't want to be half-delirious when he tested Skyfire Spiral.

He opened both Legendary chests next, each bursting like fireworks:

[ Gold Chest x2 Opened ]

— "Wind-Thread Anklets" (Movement Artifact) – Slight time dilation during dashes; +15% evasion in sustained combat.

— "Serene Cauldron Miniature" – Portable high-efficiency cauldron. Reduces concoction time by 40% for arrays/seal inks.

— "Crystalline Lotus Ink" x5 vials – Grade for Tier 3 seals.

— "Qi-Condensing Jade" x3 – Single-use; compresses ambient qi for meditation, tripling cultivation speed for one hour.

— "Shadow-Stitch Needles" x24 – Silent throwing tools that bind a target's shadow for three heartbeats.

He could feel his hands itching. Gifts like these weren't meant to sit. They were meant to be wielded.

He opened the rares with less ceremony, sorting what mattered (a few hundred spirit coins, a set of refined talismans, a nasty poison labeled "Whispering Night Haze," a torn page from a lost manual) and dismissing what didn't.

When the last chest faded, the room was cluttered with glowing artifacts, scrolls half-unrolled, vials lined up like a chemist's vanity. Victor leaned back with his palms pressed into the wood.

"Good haul," he murmured.

But rewards weren't just things. They were possibilities. And possibilities only mattered if you sharpened them.

He stood.

He slid the window open causing night air to flood in. The town was quieter now; celebrations had dwindled to murmured songs and low conversations. The moon over Lingyun was a plate of silver.

He hopped out, landing cat-soft in the alley, then crossed the cobbled lane and slipped into the shadowed courtyard of the old mill where no one would disturb him. He closed his eyes, calling up the first new art.

Skyfire Spiral.

The Dragon Breathing Arts were difficult. The first time he'd tried, he failed repeatedly But this branch felt… elegant. Like a coiled flute of flame... a helix, not a blaze.

He grounded himself and took three breaths according to the instructions displayed by the notification before him.

Then he inhaled qi up through his heels, spiraling it along his spine, threading fire through the void.

He cupped his palms, letting the heat condense, compress, tighten—

"Skyfire Spiral," he whispered as blazing flames appeared in his nostrils, eyes and mouth.