LOST CULTIVATION METHODS

Valeria stirred beneath the faint shimmer of the moonlight, a city half-alive and half-haunted.

Though its heartbeat had begun to return, thanks to Jin's victory and the undead's silent watch, the weight of history still lingered like a second skin. Smoke curled from scattered chimneys.

Market stalls had reopened in the inner circles. And in the heart of it all, Lana and Arielle worked tirelessly.

Lana had taken command of the city's logistics and internal affairs.

She moved through the stone halls of the keep with authority that demanded no announcement.

Her roots as a royal and the pain of exile had forged her into someone people naturally gravitated toward.

She wore a deep emerald robe, practical yet elegant, her dark hair pinned high as she reviewed scrolls, assigned resource duties, and negotiated between the remaining city craftsmen.

"The south gate still needs reinforcement," she muttered, examining a parchment map.

"And we need more hands to help rebuild the irrigation line. If we can redirect the flow, the southern fields could be fertile again within the month."

She turned to a pair of young cultivators who had recently submitted to Jin's rule. Neither belonged to the sects. Both had come seeking shelter after fleeing war in their homelands.

"I trust you understand that strength alone doesn't grant position," Lana said calmly. "Show discipline. Show loyalty. Serve the people, and you will rise."

They bowed, more respectfully than before. Lana dismissed them and moved on, her mind already two steps ahead.

Meanwhile, Arielle had taken to handling city morale, medical aid, and what little external diplomacy they dared to attempt.

She had a softer touch, but her words carried quiet steel.

A healer by training, she had organized rotating clinics for the wounded, relying on leftover herbs and the growing knowledge of plant life surrounding Valeria.

On this particular day, she sat with a child whose arm had been burned in a minor fire. She wrapped the wound carefully, her voice gentle.

"This will sting for a moment," she said softly. The boy winced, but didn't cry.

When she was done, she pressed a small carved wooden dragon into his hand. "For luck. Don't lose it."

She stood and stretched, her long silver-blonde hair catching the fading light. Lana approached, holding two steaming mugs of tea.

"You need to rest."

Arielle smiled wryly. "And so do you. But here we are."

The two women sat at the edge of the central square, the undead patrolling silently beyond them, ever watchful.

"It still feels strange, doesn't it?" Arielle said quietly. "All of this. The dead walking, the city rebuilding... and us in charge."

Lana nodded. "It does. But it's ours to guide now. Jin entrusted it to us."

"You speak like a queen."

"Maybe I used to be. Now I'm just trying to be useful."

Their moment of peace was short-lived.

From the gates, a figure approached. Bloodied. Staggering. A scout.

Lana was the first to her feet. "Report."

"Bandits," the scout panted. "Half a day south. About thirty. They set up near the abandoned trade post. Not sect-affiliated. Just looters."

Arielle looked toward the wall. "Are they moving this way?"

"Not yet. But they were asking about Valeria. About 'the city of the dead.'"

Lana's jaw tightened. "We'll prepare a response. Thank you. Rest now."

The scout bowed and was quickly taken to the infirmary. Arielle turned to Lana, eyes narrowed.

"We can't send Jin after every rat who wanders near the walls."

"We won't," Lana agreed. "Let the undead do what they were made for. But I want to see who commands them when they arrive. I want to know what kind of people would dare test us now."

That night, Jin returned.

He found the two women sitting inside the war chamber, a map stretched between them, lit by a flickering oil lamp. They turned as he entered.

He looked different. Not just tired. Deeper.

More centered. His eyes had always been sharp, but now they had that dangerous stillness of a blade that had been sharpened carefully over many hours.

"You're late," Arielle said, rising.

"Training," he said simply. "Shenwu pushed me harder today. I made a breakthrough."

He stepped forward, fingers brushing over the map.

"What's this?"

Lana briefed him quickly. "Scouts spotted a bandit force to the south. They haven't moved, but they're asking about Valeria."

Jin studied the map.

"Send four units. No more. Let them surround the outpost quietly. Observe. If they attack, erase them. If they flee, follow one. Find out who they're working for."

He looked up. "We're not unknown anymore. Word's getting out. And the sects won't be idle for long."

Arielle stepped close to him, placing a hand on his arm. "You should rest. Your energy... it feels different. Deeper."

He smiled faintly. "I understand spirit qi now. I'm not just using it. I'm listening to it."

They exchanged a look, something silent passing between them. A connection not just of affection, but of shared purpose.

The next day, the three stood atop the western wall, watching the sunrise. Below them, the sentient undead guardian—Lady Veyra—stood at her post, unmoving.

Jin spoke softly. "She remembers her son. She served this city before. Now she serves it again. But she has thoughts. Feelings. She's not just a tool."

"You're giving them back their souls," Lana said.

"Maybe," Jin said. "Or maybe they never fully lost them."

He turned to face them both. "I want to name her commander of the western ward.

And I want you to begin selecting others to watch over the other gates. Not just undead. People. Loyal ones. Strong ones."

"You're building a kingdom," Arielle said.

"I'm building something better," Jin replied. "A legacy."

They stood in silence for a while, watching the undead patrols pass beneath them like pale rivers.

Then, far on the horizon, the sky began to shift.

A faint reddish hue.

Jin's eyes narrowed.

"The Blood Moon. It's coming sooner than I thought."

That night, Jin prepared.

The mountain trail was darker than usual. The sky had taken on a strange tint—not quite red, not quite black. Something in between. Shenwu's voice returned as he climbed.

"Soulfire Cliff awaits. There, you will not only see yourself—you will confront what was buried before you were born."

Atop the cliff, wind howled around him. The stars seemed wrong. Shifted. The blood moon hung like an open wound in the sky.

Jin sat, centering his breath, his body, his soul.

The moment he closed his eyes, the world fell away.

He stood in a dreamscape.

Valeria burned.

Corpses littered the streets. People screamed. Undead turned on civilians. Blood soaked the stones. And at the center of it all, stood him.

A future Jin.

Golden eyes. Crimson armor. A cloak of bones.

"This is what you become," the future self said. "This is the cost of power without restraint."

Jin stepped forward. "Then I will not become you."

"You already are. You command death. You reject loyalty. You think strength is enough."

"I command death to protect life," Jin growled. "I walk alone so those I love don't have to carry this weight."

The future Jin raised a hand—a tide of blood erupted.

Jin raised his own, and the two waves collided.

The dream shattered.

He awoke in darkness.

And the system spoke.

System Notification

[Trial Complete]

You have faced your future self and rejected corruption.

Ancient Skill Unlocked: Echo Pulse Vein

Paragon Heavenly Technique: Stage Two Active

New Passive Effect: Soul Echo

(Your qi now carries intent. Allies near you recover faster. Undead units within 100 meters gain increased coordination.)

Jin stood slowly, the wind wrapping around him like a cloak. The blood moon began to fade. But its light had left a mark within him.

He descended the mountain with purpose.

He was no longer just a warrior. Not just a ruler. Not even just a cultivator.

He was becoming a force of his own.

The world would learn his name.

And when it did, it would not be through the whispers of sects or the legends of old.

It would be through the steps he carved into the mountain, one grueling trial at a time.