The Path No One Saw

Chapter 11: Breakthrough

The moment Wu Yuan returned to his courtyard, he shut the wooden door behind him with a soft thud. Silence settled over the compound, broken only by the rustling leaves and distant chirps of mountain birds. The visit from the Lei Clan was already fading into the corners of his mind.

That offer—their prestige, their promises—wasn't for him.

Not anymore.

"What matters now... is the path I carve with my own hands."

He moved to the meditation corner and sat cross-legged, letting the quiet anchor his breath. A flicker of golden light danced across his vision, coalescing into the familiar, silent system interface—its glow as calm and unwavering as a waiting storm.

✦ System Notification ✦

Mission Completed: Reject the Lei Clan's Offer  → Reward: New Lightning Technique – [Thunderflash Step] (Usable at Spirit Initiation Realm)

Mission Completed: Reach Level 9 of Body Tempering Realm  → Reward: 5 SP, New Technique – [Aura Veil]

Mission In Progress: Unlock Lightning Chakra – 65% Completed  → Progress halted

Total SP: 9

Wu Yuan's eyes scanned the list, but it was Thunderflash Step that caught his focus.

"A movement technique?"

He tapped its name.

A scroll of radiant characters unfurled beneath it:

"A movement technique born of condensed lightning. Enables short-range burst dashes and leaves behind static afterimages. Power scales with lightning affinity and muscle control."

Wu Yuan's lips curled.

"Now that's more like it."

Speed. Pressure. Illusion. Escape—this wasn't just mobility.

It was momentum—lightning-shaped domination on the battlefield.

Not usable yet—not until Spirit Initiation. But soon. When the time came, he wouldn't run. He'd flash through the battlefield, leaving only scorched earth and confused enemies in his wake.

For now, though, his gaze drifted to the second mission.

Level 9.

An impossible feat for anyone else in the entire kingdom.

Wu Yuan leaned back against the stone wall, letting his breath settle as the memories of those ten days resurfaced—each one a leap, each one defying reason. Every morning had brought a new breakthrough, each faster than the last.

"Most cultivators spend months clawing from Level 8 to 9. I did it in one day."

Even he could hardly believe it.

But speed came at a price.

Baptism by Lightning

The pain defied language.

With every breakthrough, the Heaven-Eating Pulse Conduction didn't guide lightning through his body like traditional techniques—it assaulted him. Muscle, nerve, bone—nothing was spared.

This wasn't a stream of energy.It was a storm—merciless and wild—ripping through flesh as if to break what couldn't endure.

"Now I understand why the manual said: 'Lightning does not flow—it strikes,'" Wu Yuan muttered.

It wasn't poetic metaphor.

It had been a warning.

The liquid he used—the Lightning Spiritual Liquid—didn't simply nurture him.

It hunted him.

It sought out every weakness, every imperfection in his body with surgical cruelty. It began at the skin, searing it numb, then tunneled into the muscle—ripping, tearing, rebuilding. His bones crackled under the pressure, splintering microscopically before reforging denser and stronger. And when it reached his organs…

Even breathing became a gamble.

His heart fluttered on the edge of failure. His lungs spasmed, desperate for air. Vision blurred. Darkness crept in, again and again.

"If I didn't have two lifetimes of willpower... I'd be dead. Or worse—a cripple."

This wasn't cultivation.

It was combat.

A war of attrition between lightning and flesh.

"This is what it means to cultivate lightning. You don't guide it—you endure it."

He opened his eyes.

His vision had become unnaturally sharp—so sharp that from ten feet away, he could see the trembling legs of an ant dragging a breadcrumb across the courtyard stone.

His ears caught faint shifts in the wind, distant bird cries, even the creak of a tree swaying in the distance.

His reflexes felt... unnatural. As if his body moved a fraction of a second before his thoughts caught up.

But power came with instability.

Earlier that morning, he had stretched after meditation—and shattered his wooden bed with a simple twist of his spine.

A casual sneeze had blown apart a clay water jar, sending shards across the floor like shrapnel.

Wu Yuan reached for his teacup, intending only a casual sip before resuming meditation. But the moment his fingers closed around the porcelain, he heard a faint crack—then the cup shattered in his palm, shards raining onto the stone floor with a brittle chime.

He stared at his hand in disbelief.

No tension. No effort. Just a thoughtless grip—and the fragile object had disintegrated.

"This body... it doesn't move like it used to."

He closed his eyes and sank into a meditative pose, letting his breath settle. But even then, there was no peace. His heartbeat pounded in his ears like distant thunder, a steady, echoing rhythm that drowned out the wind and birdsong. Each inhale felt deeper, each exhale sharper—as if his lungs were made of storm-breath.

He shifted his weight slightly—and the old wooden platform beneath him creaked like it might give way.

Every movement had to be measured now. Deliberate. A single burst of tension, and his foot could leave a crater. A careless gesture, and someone nearby could be maimed.

"I've become a blade with no sheath. I need control... or this power will destroy more than just my enemies."

His thoughts turned to the newly acquired technique—Aura Veil.

When he first saw it listed as a reward, Aura Veil had seemed like just another system gift—nothing worth much attention. But now, it felt like a divine blessing wrapped in quiet subtlety.

He had begun cultivating it just the day before—after reaching Level 9. With only minimal practice, his spiritual presence had already faded to the level of an ordinary mortal, as if he had never set foot on the cultivation path—no blood qi, no strength, nothing to sense.

Later in the evening, Wu Yuan stepped into the outer courtyard to test Aura Veil again. The cool night air brushed against his skin as the faint pulse of energy within him sank into silence—his presence shrinking, his cultivation vanishing. Not hidden like a ghost, but diminished—no blood qi, no spiritual pressure, no trace of strength. Just an ordinary youth in the eyes of the world.

A passing Wu guard glanced in his direction… and frowned faintly.

But instead of stepping forward with a bow or greeting—as he normally would upon seeing the young master—he simply looked around in mild confusion, then resumed his patrol in silence.

Wu Yuan smirked.

He strolled a slow circle around the courtyard, even passed two servants chatting beneath a tree.

Neither flinched. Neither paused.

To them, he was no more remarkable than a breeze.

He stopped beside the stone lantern in the far corner and whispered with a chuckle,

"Too easy."

But as his excitement rose, the aura flickered faintly—his presence bled through, and one of the servants paused, frowning faintly before shaking her head.

"It responds to emotion. Agitation makes it leak. Calm hides everything."

Another tool—like lightning itself—deadly in chaos, perfect in clarity.

"Didn't think it would work. Most body tempering cultivators can't hide their presence—our bodies burn too loud."

But this one worked.

Simple. Precise. Incredibly effective.

"System products… dumb, mysterious, but frighteningly good."

Even Elder Lei Jinghong hadn't seen through him. To their eyes, he was barely Level 1—maybe Level 2 at best.

And that had already shocked the Wu Clan.

That kind of speed was unheard of—recorded only once or twice in clan history.

But the truth?

He was nine steps beyond them.

Beyond the Known Path

His eyes returned to the system notification:

"Unlock Lightning Chakra – 65% Completed."

"Why only sixty-five? I'm already at the peak... isn't this supposed to trigger once I reach Spirit Initiation?"

But something was wrong.

A strange pressure hung in his body—like unfinished circuitry waiting to spark. It wasn't pain, but incompleteness. As though his cultivation had stalled just before the final surge.

"No... I've read this before. In some cultivation novels, Level 9 isn't always the true peak."

In those tales, monstrous talents—outliers, prodigies, legends in the making—sometimes broke past hidden stages: Level 10... even 11 or 12.

Not recorded in manuals. Not taught in sects.

Just whispered about.

"Let's test it."

He shifted posture and began chanting the first cycle of Heaven-Eating Pulse Conduction once more.

Lightning flared—slow, flickering, reluctant.

The pain was there... but duller. Like trying to tear muscle with a blunt blade.

"It's like chiseling granite with a wooden stick."

Even after pouring in a full vial of lightning liquid, the response was sluggish.

The thunder didn't roar.

It rumbled—low, lazy, unwilling.

"So this is it. The wall no one talks about."

"Level 10... the stage no one even knows exists."

His heart beat faster.

If he could break through this unseen threshold...

He'd stand in a realm no cultivator in Verdant Mountain had ever reached.

A true anomaly.

A storm no one saw coming.

"I'll need help. Time to ask Father."

Wu Yuan stood at the threshold of his father's manor. The door was slightly ajar. For once, he wasn't here as a dutiful son, but as a cultivator chasing something beyond the known path.

He stepped inside with quiet determination.

Wu Lin looked up from his desk, scrolls in hand, eyes narrowing in surprise.

"Yuan'er?"

He set the scroll aside with a smooth, attentive motion.

"You look stronger," he said, then added, "But something in your eyes has changed, too."

Wu Yuan didn't know how to respond.

A moment of sharp, quiet guilt struck him—he was deceiving his father, letting him believe he was still just starting out.

But that feeling quickly gave way to something else.

Pride.

Not arrogance, but a quiet certainty that his progress, his power—his choices—were his own.

He bowed, this time lower than before.

"You need something?"

Wu Yuan nodded without hesitation.

"I need materials. For lightning-based body tempering. Something to accelerate marrow refinement—spiritual bath ingredients, herbs, anything."

Wu Lin studied his son for a long moment. The request wasn't casual—it was precise, focused.

Then he smiled.

"First time you've come to me for cultivation help."

He rose, opened a sealed drawer, and retrieved a jade box, a soft cloth pouch, and a scroll bound with silver thread.

"Take these. Lightning-bark essence. Thunderroot ash. And this—an advanced bath formula I acquired from the Alchemy Pavilion."

Wu Yuan opened the box—and his breath caught.

These weren't ordinary items. The spiritual density alone made his skin prickle. They were rare, high-grade, and most importantly—not from the clan's usual stores.

"These are..."

"Expensive," Wu Lin said, half-smiling.

"You didn't have to—"

His father cut him off gently, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

"You're my son. If I don't back you, who will?"

A beat passed.

"If you want to repay me... then break through to Level 2 as fast as you hit Level 1."

Wu Yuan's chest tightened.

So even his father still believed he was only at Level 1.

He lowered his head and bowed deeply.

"Yes, Father."

He turned and left, his arms full of rare ingredients. But inside him, a different fire burned now—steady, crackling beneath the skin.

"The world still sees me as a child of the Wu Clan."

"Let them."

"They'll see soon enough—what happens when lightning walks in human flesh."