Wasting Cultivation resources on Maidens makes me the STRONGEST

The fight erupted with a ferocity that electrified the arena.

The savage beast, a massive metallic bear, charged forward immediately with a roar that shook the ground. Its claws, gleaming like sharpened steel, swiped at the saber-wielding cultivator with terrifying speed and precision.

The saber cultivator met the attack head-on, his blade flashing as he parried the beast's claws.

Sparks flew, and the sound of metal clashing against metal echoed through the hall.

There was no hesitation, no gauging of each other's strength—they both went all out from the very first moment.

The crowd roared with excitement, their cheers blending with the growls of the beast and the sharp cries of the saber slicing through the air.

The old soul, floating invisibly beside Wei Jin, was beside himself with glee. "Go, saber guy! Show that bear who's boss! Oh, look at that move! Did you see that, kid?"

Wei Jin didn't respond, his eyes fixed on the battle. The old soul didn't seem to care, too engrossed in the fight. "Slash it again! Yes! That's it! Hahaha, this is better than any action movie back on Earth! Who needs CGI when you've got this?!"

The metallic bear roared again, its massive body twisting with surprising agility as it dodged a lethal slash from the cultivator's saber.

It retaliated by stomping on the ground, causing a shockwave that forced the cultivator to leap into the air.

The cultivator spun mid-air, his saber glowing with spiritual energy as he aimed a devastating downward slash at the bear.

The crowd gasped as the saber struck true, cutting a deep gash into the beast's shoulder.

Blood spurted out, glinting eerily in the arena's light. But the bear didn't falter; it lunged forward, using its injured shoulder as leverage to propel itself at the cultivator.

"Oh no, watch out!" the old soul screamed, his voice shrill with panic, before quickly switching back to cheering. "Wait, never mind! He dodged it! Go, cultivator! Slash it again!"

Wei Jin stood in silence, his arms crossed as he watched the fight unfold.

The intensity of the battle was undeniable, but his mind was elsewhere.

The saber cultivator, despite being at a disadvantage, was holding his ground with incredible bravery and skill. Wei Jin couldn't help but marvel at the comparison.

"The beast should have won by now," he thought, "but the cultivator… he's managing somehow. Even against overwhelming odds."

The thought struck a chord deep within him, pulling him into memories he had buried long ago.

He remembered himself as a younger cultivator, someone who didn't care about status or strength. Even as the weakest in his family, he had kept going—not out of ambition, but because he didn't know what else to do.

He had been content with his mediocrity, accepting his place at the bottom of the family's hierarchy.

And then Ru Shaonian came into his life.

At the time, her presence had felt like a ray of hope, a validation of his spirit.

Wei Jin had foolishly believed she saw something in him, something no one else did. He thought she appreciated his resilience, his quiet determination to keep moving forward despite his lack of talent.

But now, he knew the truth.

Ru Shaonian hadn't chosen him because she admired him. She had chosen him because he was safe.

An average, unremarkable man who wouldn't cheat, wouldn't threaten her ambitions, and wouldn't stand out unlike the novel protagonist who have a harem.

He clenched his fists, his gaze darkening. "What a fool I was," he thought, shaking his head. "To think I was special in her eyes."

The old soul, noticing the change in his demeanor, floated closer. "What's wrong, kid?" he asked, his voice softer this time, concerned about lacing his words.

Wei Jin leaned slightly to the side, his lips moving just enough to whisper words infused with spiritual energy, making them inaudible to the attendant but clear to the old soul.

"Old man, why do you still want me to seduce my wife when I've made it clear—I'm adamant about divorcing her? Can't I just leave her and live peacefully?"

The old soul chuckled, the sound tinged with a wisdom that grated on Wei Jin's nerves.

"Peacefully? Oh, kid, you're dreaming. You won't. She'll live rent-free in your head for the rest of your life. Every time you look at another woman, every time you think about starting anew, there she'll be—a shadow hanging over you, reminding you of your failure, your regret, your bitterness."

Wei Jin's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening, but he stayed silent.

The old soul continued, his tone growing heavier. "And what will happen if you do get into a relationship again? Will you run at the first sign of trouble? Leave another girl without closure, only to carry her memory as baggage? You'll become toxic, boy. Broken. Unfit to love anyone properly."

The words hit Wei Jin harder than he expected, and his brows furrowed in thought.

The old soul pressed on, seizing the moment.

"You need to seduce her—not for her, but for you. It's not about winning her back. It's about learning, growing. Seduction isn't just about romance or lust; it's about confidence, control, understanding yourself and others.

"If you fail or succeed, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you learn. If you leave her without taking anything in return, you'll always be bitter. But if you leave while gaining something—a skill, a lesson—you'll find peace."

Wei Jin's lips twisted in a half-smirk, half-grimace. "And why don't you sound like you hate your wife? Didn't she ruin you?"

The old soul sighed, a deep, mournful sound. "Because I accepted it. I accepted that I was played for a fool my entire life. It was bitter—oh, you bet it was bitter—but that bitterness only poisoned me further.

"By the time I realized it, my life was over. But now… now, I've been given another chance. As long as I exist, I have an opportunity to change things, to take control of my story."

Wei Jin blinked, surprised by the weight of the words. But he quickly masked it with mockery. "Who told you I'm going to revive you, old man?"

The soul cackled, playful again. "Oh, come on, kid! I'll teach you how to get more girls, and you'll thank me later! Move on, get stronger, and make your life worth living! Oh, and don't forget—more girls! Hahaha!"

Wei Jin shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself. "This shameless bastard, acting like he didn't try to devour his soul."

Meanwhile, the battle between the saber cultivator and the savage metallic bear raged on, growing ever more brutal.

The bear roared, its metallic body shimmering under the glowing spiritual wall.

Blood dripped from its wounds, but its fiery eyes burned with an unyielding ferocity. It charged forward, its claws ripping through the air with terrifying force.

The saber cultivator stood his ground, his blade glowing with condensed spiritual energy.

His breathing was labored, blood seeping from a dozen wounds across his body. But his grip on his saber remained steady, his resolve unshaken.

The bear lunged, swiping its massive claws downward in an attempt to crush its foe.

The cultivator dodged with a hair's breadth to spare, his saber slicing through the air and carving a deep wound into the bear's side.

The beast howled in pain, its roar shaking the entire arena.

The crowd erupted in cheers and gasps, their voices a cacophony of excitement.

The bear retaliated with a whip of its tail, sending the cultivator flying into the spiritual wall.

He hit the barrier with a sickening thud, blood spraying from his mouth. But he pushed himself back onto his feet, his saber glowing brighter as he poured the last of his energy into one final attack.

The bear charged again, its massive body hurtling forward like an unstoppable force.

The cultivator didn't flinch.

Instead, he leapt into the air, his saber spinning in his hand as he aimed for the beast's head.

The two forces collided in an explosion of spiritual energy. Dust and debris filled the air, obscuring the battlefield. When the dust settled, the cultivator stood over the fallen bear, his saber raised triumphantly in one blood-soaked hand.

But his left arm was gone, torn from his body during the clash. Blood dripped from the empty sleeve, pooling at his feet.

The crowd erupted in thunderous applause, their cheers echoing throughout the Grand Beast Hall.

The old soul, stunned into silence for a moment, finally whispered, "Well, damn, kid. That's some determination right there."