The Saiyan In The Cultivation World.

{A/N: I started posting advanced chapters on Telegram, it's currently 3 chapters ahead. Download Telegram, which is the app with the paper airplane. After, search up Itachi1010devils. I will make another chapter to go deeper into this matter, thanks for the support.

I will be posting 1 to 2 chapters there every day, while on Webnovel it would return to the normal schedule, which is 5 to 6 chapters a week.}

"What happened!" A roar shook the heavens, its power so immense that an ordinary human would have their head explode from the sheer might of it.

In the heart of the Dragon Empire, within a grand and imposing castle, the Dragon Emperor's face was twisted in fury. His golden eyes burned as he stared at the screen before him, which displayed the humiliating scene of Lianchen driving a rod into his son's rear. His aura surged violently, barely held in check as the rage boiled within him.

But when the Emperor replayed Lianchen's words—about the dragon race becoming farm animals—he snapped. His aura erupted outward, shattering the room's serenity and sending everything nearby flying. Walls cracked under the pressure, and those within the vicinity were forced to their knees from the oppressive might.

"These humans think they are something worth fearing…" the Emperor growled, his voice trembling with anger. "I want that empire erased from this world and that brat brought before me!"

"That might not be the wisest course of action," a calm voice interjected. The speaker was a young man with a striking appearance—his left eye glowed blue, while his right eye shimmered red. His tone was measured, a sharp contrast to the Emperor's rage. "Lianchen is no ordinary child. His strength alone forced the Radiant Sun to step back and offer an apology. For a 7-year-old, his power rivals that of a Spirit Ascension realm cultivator. Provoking him may bring far more trouble than you anticipate."

To say the least, the Dragon Emperor was caught off guard upon hearing about Lianchen's strength. But he didn't care. The dragon race was not one to cower in the face of provocation. If someone dared to spit in their face, as Lianchen had, they should fully expect war.

The Dragon Emperor himself was a half-step Spirit Ascension cultivator. Unlike the Radiant Sun, which boasted many Spirit Ascension ancestors, the Dragon Empire's Spirit Ascension cultivators were few but carried greater might and power.

However, there was another reason the Dragon Emperor was eager for war: a Dragon Egg. Rumors had reached the Dragon Empire that a Dragon Egg with a pure dragon bloodline had surfaced. Its origins were unclear, but its existence was undeniable. Such a treasure was invaluable, holding the potential to strengthen and refine their bloodline immeasurably.

Lianchen's actions provided the perfect pretext to act. With the young prince's insults fresh in their minds and the desire for the Dragon Egg driving them, the Dragon Empire saw war not as a risk but as an opportunity. Even the Radiant Sun would have to think twice before stepping in, lest they be dragged into a conflict with the mighty Dragon Empire.

Back in the Zhou Empire, many were riveted by the screen that showed Lianchen deep within the underground cave. Unlike others, Lianchen's screen never cut or had any moments removed—simply because he didn't care. If anyone wanted to challenge him or take something from him, they were welcome to try.

It had been two weeks since Lianchen and the others entered the Dragon Tomb. For the past 12 days, Lianchen had been immersed in alchemy. Although he hadn't perfected the Boiling Point Alchemy technique—mostly due to his laziness in cultivating phoenix flames—he had managed to develop his own method that not only mimicked but even surpassed the original.

How did he do it? He used his fists.

Yes, you heard that right. Lianchen shocked the world with his brilliance. Everyone watched in awe as, step by step, he abandoned the traditional cauldron and instead used the very heavens and earth as his vessel. His fists became the flames, and the entire world watched in stunned silence.

It was nothing short of incredible—Lianchen was literally punching the herbs. With each punch, he targeted the atoms within the herbs. Bit by bit, the crowd witnessed as Lianchen perfected the process of transforming one herb into another. He moved atoms with precision, creating more potent and specialized herbs tailored to his needs.

But Lianchen didn't stop there. Lianchen's punches soon shifted from manipulating herbs to creating matter itself. It was a spectacle that left everyone speechless. They could only watch in stunned silence, wishing they could read his mind to understand the depths of his thought process. What they witnessed was beyond comprehension.

Unintentionally, Lianchen had tapped into the Dao of Creation, the strongest and most profound Dao of all. And he did it without even realizing it.

To those watching, it felt almost unfair. Was it not enough that he was already a genius? Did he have to stumble upon the most powerful Dao as well? It was too much to process, leaving the entire empire, and the world beyond it, utterly speechless.

"This kid is a monster," the white cat murmured, its gaze fixed on the screen showing Lianchen's feats. Beside it stood a young man with his eyes closed, exuding an air of unshakable confidence. This young man was the leader of the Heavenly Splitting Sect, ranked number one among the Seven Sword Deities.

His mastery of the sword was unparalleled, capable of standing toe-to-toe with a Spirit Ascension realm cultivator despite being at the peak of the Nascent Soul realm. Though he had ultimately lost that battle and nearly been imprisoned, his strength was undeniable, a testament to his reputation as one of the strongest cultivators of his generation.

"What do you think we should do?" the Number One Sword Deity asked with a faint smile, opening his eyes to glance at the white cat. "Should we support the Radiant Sun in pushing back the Dragon Empire?"

"Yes," the white cat replied firmly. "We can't allow the Radiant Sun to draw him to their side." Its tone carried an urgency that wasn't lost on the young man.

The Sword Deity nodded in understanding. In the past, he might have scoffed at the idea of aligning himself with others for the sake of connections. But now? After observing Lianchen over the past few weeks, his perspective had shifted. The sheer magnitude of what this boy had achieved was impossible to ignore.

What Lianchen had done wasn't just remarkable—it was groundbreaking. In less than two weeks, he had forged a completely new path in cultivation. Creating a new path was infinitely more difficult than simply mastering an existing one. Lianchen had achieved something no one in the cultivation world had ever conceived of, let alone attempted. If he wasn't a monster among monsters, who was?

***

"Done!" I laughed, the sound echoing around me as I felt it—the moment my incomplete Dao finally became whole. The Dao of Absolute Combat was born. The necklace around my neck glowed brightly, its power surging to full strength as it hid the birth of my Dao from the heavens.

Normally, the completion of such a powerful Dao would have shaken the heavens themselves. Even immortals would have felt its presence. But thanks to this necklace, no one would be aware. This was just a Dao seed for now—still weak—but its potential was undeniable. Its power would grow through battle, evolving with each fight, and when it reached the peak of its current stage, it would naturally break through to the next.

This Dao was everything I could have dreamed of. Anything remotely tied to combat fell under its domain. Even alchemy—if I could connect it to the concept of battle—was something I could master. The possibilities were endless.

"Alright, let's start," I said, tossing a herb into the air. As it began to fall, time seemed to slow—at least for me. The herb hovered midair, suspended in front of me, as if waiting for my command.

I wasted no time, throwing a punch that landed squarely on the herb. Then I moved to the side and punched it again, each strike meticulously planned and aimed with precision at specific atoms.

Here's a fun fact about matter and energy: matter is just condensed energy. The formula to convert energy into mass is m = E / c², where "E" represents energy, "m" represents mass, and "c" represents the speed of light squared. This is derived from Einstein's famous equation E = mc², which essentially states that energy and mass are interchangeable.

I once read a story back on Earth about the fusion of two black holes. That event released more energy than every star in the universe combined and sent ripples across space-time. The sheer scale of energy involved was staggering. But it perfectly illustrates just how much energy is stored within matter, especially when dealing with such massive forces.

And here I was, working with that same principle—but on a much smaller scale, with my punches carefully breaking and rearranging the very atoms of the herb in front of me.

The herb suffered under my relentless fists. Every atom was obliterated, yet instead of releasing the immense energy outward in a nuclear explosion, I forced it to condense. The energy, bound by my will and precision, coalesced into a single pill. As the pill took shape, storm clouds gathered above me, their presence inevitable.

How could they not? This pill was perfect—no, beyond perfect. Born from a single herb, the atoms in the air, and my energy, it surpassed what anyone could achieve through conventional alchemy. The pill was flawless. A six-star grade pill, radiating power so profound it made the heavens take notice.