Chapter Ten: The Daoist Soldiers’ Foundation, and the Foolish Yang Qian

Boom! Boom!

A barrage of fireballs rained down, engulfing the entire western side of the training ground in flames. Amidst the inferno, a monstrous wolf demon, three zhang tall and exuding a terrifying, savage aura, howled in agony.

With a resonant clang, a sword gleamed in an arc of rainbow light, circling the wolf demon's head at breakneck speed before returning to Yang Xuan's hand. The wolf demon staggered amid the sea of fire, blood spurting from its neck, and collapsed with a thunderous crash.

Yang Xuan wiped a faint sheen of sweat from his brow and beckoned with his hand. The spiritual fire gourd hovering in the air flew straight into his grasp. After stowing it away, he turned his gaze forward.

Host: Yang Xuan
Race: Human
Spiritual Roots: Fire (53/100), Metal (32/100), Earth (15/100)
Cultivation Method: Scarlet Blaze Technique
Spells: Fireball (Adept), Blazing Blade (Novice), Crimson Fire Shield (Initiate), Body Movement Art (Adept), Golden Light Technique (Initiate)
Divine Powers: Qi Observation (Initiate), Explosive Meteor (Unlearned)
Merit: 3.3

“Whew! As expected, only opponents of my own level can provide me with a decent amount of merit,” he murmured, his eyes lingering excitedly on the 3.3 points displayed.

Ever since he had confessed to Yang Huaiyun his intention to set out to sea and pioneer new lands, Yang Xuan had spent these days honing his combat experience. For cultivators, frontier expansion was no child’s play—it was a matter of life and death, and without sufficient strength, one was doomed.

Thus, Yang Xuan had spent nearly every daylight hour in the training ground. At first, he simply sparred with Man Niu, but soon he had Man Niu bring up demon captives from the dungeon for live combat practice. After several days, the family’s dungeon was nearly emptied—even the three commander-level demons, equivalent to human Foundation Establishment cultivators, were petitioned from the dungeon under the pretext of needing battle experience for the impending campaign.

The merit from slaying a commander-level demon did not disappoint; each one contributed a full point. Now, with the addition of the lesser demons, his merit had reached 3.3. He could finally use merit to improve himself.

Yes, to improve—Yang Xuan saw his golden finger as nothing more than a skill augmentation system, albeit one limited to cultivation methods and spells.

He withdrew his gaze, not intending to spend his merit on further spell comprehension just yet. Instead, he crossed the training ground.

“Haven’t you eaten? Stand tall, all of you! Show some spirit!”
“Every drop of sweat shed now is a drop less blood on the battlefield! The sea clan are no pushovers; they won’t just stand there waiting for you to cut them down!”

Under the blazing sun, more than thirty black-armored Dao soldiers drilled in formation under Man Niu’s command.

“Young Master Xuan!” Man Niu called out, hurrying to salute.

“Carry on, don’t mind me,” Yang Xuan replied, nodding for him to proceed.

Watching the training, Yang Xuan nodded in satisfaction—the results were pleasing. These thirty Dao soldiers, together with Man Niu, a martial cultivator at the innate level, formed part of Yang Huaiyun’s support for him. When Yang Xuan set out for the Eastern Sea, they would accompany him as his personal retinue. Yang Huaiyun was also preparing other cultivation resources for him to take along.

Such was the privilege of the noble clans in this world. When their scions went to war, the family wouldn’t just send Dao soldiers for direct support, but also provided resources and connections. Compared to other transmigrators forced to rely solely on themselves, Yang Xuan’s situation—setting out with a ready-made team—was a godsend.

“Young Master Xuan, the master requests your presence in the council chamber,” a servant announced respectfully.

Yang Xuan nodded, instructed Man Niu to keep training the Dao soldiers, and made his way to Yang Huaiyun’s study.

“Father! I’m about to break through to late-stage Qi Refining; about that Foundation Establishment Pill...”
He had barely reached the doorway when he saw Yang Qian standing before Yang Huaiyun, asking cautiously.

At these words, Yang Huaiyun’s previously pleasant expression darkened, and he shot Yang Qian a fierce glare without replying.

The more silent Yang Huaiyun grew, the more uneasy Yang Qian became. He was close to late-stage Qi Refining, and thus one step nearer to Foundation Establishment. Yet the family had no Foundation Establishment Pills left. He merely hoped Yang Huaiyun would use resources to obtain a pill from another clan.

But judging by Yang Huaiyun’s reaction, his hopes were dashed. Left with nowhere to turn, he glanced toward Madam Yang, silently pleading for his mother’s support.

“Huaiyun...” she began.

But Yang Huaiyun cut her off. “Enough! Not another word. Even if that wastrel could break through—though I doubt he will—the family has no spare resources for a Foundation Establishment Pill. Xuan’er is about to join the Xuan Shui Palace’s overseas expedition. The family must support him first!”

“What! Yang Xuan again? He’s also your son—why does he get everything? The Foundation Establishment Pill is his, and now the family is even borrowing spirit stones so he can join the expedition. It’s not fair!” Yang Qian erupted, his face twisted with resentment as he shouted.

“Ungrateful wretch!”
Yang Huaiyun’s face was so dark it could drip water. He kicked Yang Qian square in the chest, sending him flying from the room like a cannonball.

Outside, Yang Xuan sidestepped as Yang Qian hurtled out, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Impressive! My old man’s a dual cultivator of magic and the body—he’s stronger than I thought!”

From that kick, Yang Xuan sensed a terrifying power—the kind that became popular in the mid-game when martial and magical cultivation were combined.

With a heavy thud, Yang Qian crashed to the ground not far from Yang Xuan, struggled briefly, and passed out cold.

“Qian’er...” Madam Yang rushed out, weeping, to tend to Yang Qian’s injuries, cradling him and wailing, “My poor Qian’er! Why is our life so bitter...?”

Yang Xuan couldn’t help but twitch at the corner of his mouth. This mother and son truly lacked sense.

It had been less than half a month since Yang Qian last tried to seize Yang Xuan’s Foundation Establishment Pill. The fallout from that incident hadn’t even faded, and now he dared ask Yang Huaiyun for another pill—all while Yang Xuan was still present in the family.

No matter what, Yang Huaiyun would never agree while Yang Xuan was still at home. After all, everyone knew Yang Xuan disliked that pair.

If Yang Huaiyun supported Yang Qian’s Foundation Establishment now, it would utterly chill Yang Xuan’s heart.

Aristocratic families always prioritize interests.

On one side was a son who had already established his foundation, recruiting followers and ready to build merit for the clan. On the other, a minor cultivator who hadn’t even reached Foundation Establishment, no matter how persuasive his mother. Anyone could see which side to favor.

Truly, the pair were fools.

By contrast, Yang Zhen and his mother, seated quietly without vying for anything, were much wiser. Sometimes, not contending at all was the surest way to win favor—at least with Yang Huaiyun.