After hesitating a few more moments, Jin carefully opened the manual. The pages crackled softly, but they did not tear. However, after turning several sheets, his expression tightened: almost all of the content was illegible.

  Only the first page was completely intact.

  Jin observed it in silence beneath the flickering light of the oil lamp. That page seemed to have been protected somehow.

  The text explained the basic principle of the technique: using one’s own blood as a catalyst to enhance the body. By circulating Qi mixed with a controlled portion of blood essence, the user could force an explosive increase in power.

  There were sections that spoke of the “quality of blood” and the “hidden potential within the bloodline,” but those parts were ambiguous, almost cryptic.

  They mentioned differences between ordinary blood and blood refined through cultivation, hinting that the higher the practitioner’s realm, the more terrifying the amplification would be.

  Jin frowned.

  No clear limits or precise consequences were detailed—only veiled warnings about loss of vitality and the risk of collapse if overused. Even so, the practical steps of the technique were complete on that single page: the exact circulation of Qi, the points where the essence had to be compressed, the precise moment when it had to fuse.

  It was an incomplete technique in theory… but fully functional in execution.

  Jin knew perfectly well that techniques like this always came with problems. His reason told him it was not wise to experiment with something like this—especially without a master supervising him.

  But… if he had come to this world, wasn’t it precisely to walk paths that had once existed only in novels?

  It wasn’t every day one found a charred technique inside a ring of dubious origin.

  He exhaled slowly.

  The flame of the lamp swayed as he adjusted his posture on the bed, sitting in the lotus position.

  He closed his eyes and calmed his breathing until it became deep and even. First, he needed to stabilize his Qi; any mistake while manipulating blood could be fatal, according to the manual.

  Following the instructions on the single legible page, he began guiding his energy through the specific meridians indicated. He did not use brute force; on the contrary, he moved with extreme precision, as if walking along the edge of an invisible cliff.

  The first step was the most delicate.

  He concentrated the Qi in his dantian and then diverted it toward certain secondary channels he rarely used in his usual cultivation. He felt a faint tingling in his chest, followed by an uncomfortable pressure in his arms. Controlling every strand of energy, he began isolating a small portion of blood essence.

  The sensation was unpleasant.

  A strange chill ran down his spine as something inside him seemed to “pull” gently from the deepest part of his body. It was not exactly pain, but an intense discomfort, as if he were forcing something that should not be touched.

  Even so, he succeeded.

  A tiny portion of blood essence was separated, suspended within his Qi flow like a crimson drop floating in an invisible current.

  Jin frowned as sweat formed on his forehead.

  The next step…

  He slowly began to fuse the Qi and the blood.

  Just as he was combining the blood essence and Qi, Jin perceived something unexpected.

  That tiny portion of blood he had separated… was not completely red.

  It shimmered with an almost imperceptible golden hue.

  His concentration wavered for a brief instant. Golden…? That was not mentioned in the manual. The technique spoke of quality and purity, but it did not specify colors or visible manifestations. However, he had no time to analyze it. He was in the middle of an extremely delicate process; any distraction could cause disorder within his internal flow.

  He gritted his teeth and steadied his mind.

  The crimson drop with golden glimmers began intertwining with the Qi surrounding it. It was not immediate. The blood resisted, as if it had a will of its own, while the Qi tried to envelop and assimilate it.

  Jin had to adjust the pressure several times, reducing the intensity to prevent the essence from dispersing.

  The process was slow—painfully slow.

  Sweat ran down his temple as he maintained the exact balance between the two components. Too much force and the blood would destabilize; too little and the fusion would never complete.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Finally, after what felt like hours—though only minutes had passed—the resistance disappeared.

  The essence and the Qi integrated perfectly.

  They were no longer two distinct energies, but a new internal current—denser, more vibrant. A faint pulse ran through his meridians, and his body trembled slightly, as if an inner string had been tightened and released at the same time.

  Jin inhaled with difficulty. The combined energy felt different… heavier and more powerful.

  Only the final step remained—he had to guide this new force to his dantian.

  Guiding the new energy turned out to be easier than he had imagined. The fused current responded obediently, descending to settle in the core of his cultivation. The moment it fully integrated, a vibration spread through Jin’s body from his abdomen to his limbs, like a contained shockwave beneath his skin.

  And then… nothing more.

  There was no explosion, no blinding light, no visible transformation—only a faint sense of stability.

  Jin exhaled slowly, releasing a mouthful of turbid air. The first step described on the single legible page was complete. He had managed to create and store that combined energy without his body collapsing.

  Now he only needed to activate it.

  Carefully, using his Qi as a trigger, he touched that slightly golden strand within his dantian and stimulated it.

  What followed caught him by surprise.

  A brutal force erupted from his center throughout his entire body. He felt as if every muscle were filled with compressed energy, as though the power stored within him had been released all at once. His veins tensed beneath his skin, and his breathing grew heavy.

  At the same time, intense discomfort pierced him.

  His blood began to flow violently, like boiling water running through conduits too narrow. It was not unbearable pain, but it was raw and unsettling, as if his body were being squeezed.

  Even so, the change was undeniable.

  The strength he felt now was tangible, dense, ready to burst.

  Jin slowly closed his fist, sensing how the air around it seemed to compress slightly under the pressure of his grip.

  A smile spread across his face. In this state… he was certain of one thing—now he would have needed only a single blow to finish off that bald man.

  Feeling his muscles swell faintly beneath his robe and carefully testing the strength coursing through his body, Jin flexed his fingers and moved his arms slowly.

  The sensation of power was real, not an illusion caused by excitement. Even the air seemed to offer less resistance when he displaced it with a simple motion. For a few moments, he enjoyed that contained intensity, that silent violence waiting to be unleashed.

  But he could not maintain it for long.

  With a firm thought, he withdrew the stimulus sustaining the golden strand in his dantian and deactivated the technique.

  The pressure vanished like a suddenly receding tide, and what remained behind was not strength… but weakness.

  His legs felt slightly unsteady. The energy that had overflowed through his muscles seconds ago now seemed to have evaporated, leaving an evident frailty in its place. It was not crippling, but it was noticeable.

  “…Mmm, I see. So the side effect is that it weakens the body after use… though I’m not sure how severely.”

  His voice sounded lower than usual.

  A sensation similar to moderate blood loss overtook him; a heavy fatigue began settling into his bones.

  He completely removed his upper robe, setting it aside, and with slow movements stored the burned manual inside his bag. Then he observed the dark ring for a few seconds before sliding it onto one of his fingers.

  The metal fit naturally.

  Without bothering to extinguish the lamp, he lay down on the bed. Exhaustion enveloped him quickly, more intensely than he had expected. His eyelids grew heavy as his breathing became deep and steady.

  Little by little, the golden-eyed youth fell asleep, the faint glow of the lamp casting dancing shadows across the walls of the room.

  While Jin drifted into the world of dreams, unaware of everything happening below, there was still movement in the inn’s dining hall. Most of the customers had already left.

  At a table near the window, five young women dressed in robes of the same color spoke in low voices. Their swords rested against the wall, though one of them absentmindedly kept twirling the hilt of hers between her fingers.

  “Senior Sister…” murmured the youngest of the group, a girl with rounded cheeks who still had crumbs near her lip. “Are we really going without informing Master?”

  The young woman seated in the center let out a sigh filled with impatience.

  “If I tell her, she’ll forbid me from going,” she replied, crossing her arms. “She always says ‘the world of cultivation is treacherous’ as if we’re made of porcelain.”

  “But it is treacherous…” muttered another, the one with the more serious expression, nervously adjusting her sleeves. “Last time we were almost ambushed by those strange people in red robes.”

  “That was because you made noise,” a third girl interjected, resting her chin on her hand with a teasing smile. “If you hadn’t stepped on that branch—”

  “It was an accident!”

  The leader clicked her tongue softly, though an almost imperceptible smile appeared on her lips.

  “We’re already at the sixth level of Qi Condensation,” she said, lowering her voice slightly. “We’re not newly initiated novices. And you’ve advanced too.”

  “We just entered the fifth,” replied the quietest one so far, a sharp-eyed girl who had been observing the hall. “There’s a difference.”

  The atmosphere calmed a bit after that.

  “When I found that cave… I felt something different,” the leader said this time, with less arrogance and more seriousness.

  The others exchanged glances. That was not her usual way of speaking.

  The round-cheeked girl leaned forward excitedly.

  “Like a secret inheritance? Like in the stories?”

  “Maybe,” the leader replied, regaining some of her usual tone. “And if it is, I won’t let others be faster than us.”

  There was a brief silence.

  Then the sharp-eyed girl spoke again.

  “We could ask for help.”

  Everyone looked at her.

  She lowered her voice.

  “The senior brother who arrived earlier… the one with the insignia of the Eight Celestial Peaks Sect. Our sects are allies.”

  The teasing girl arched a brow.

  “The one with the golden eyes?”

  “That’s him.”

  “He looks about our age,” said the round-cheeked girl, “but his aura is deeper than yours, Senior Sister.”

  The tension was immediate; that comment made the leader stare at her.

  “You can’t measure that just by looking.”

  The other immediately lowered her head.

  “Sorry…”

  Several seconds passed.

  Finally, the leader looked away, resting her elbow on the table.

  “But… it could be interesting,” she admitted in a lower voice. “If he really is strong, it would be better to have him as an ally.”

  The teasing girl smiled mischievously.

  “An ally… or something more?”

  “Shut up!” the leader replied, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.

  The others let out restrained giggles.

  After a moment, the leader regained her composure.

  “Tomorrow we’ll speak with him. And no one will mention this in front of Master when we return.”

  “Yes, Senior Sister.”

  Excitement returned to the table, but this time it was lighter—almost youthful.

  Meanwhile, on the upper floor, completely unaware of the decisions beginning to intertwine with his fate, Jin slept deeply.