Occasional Defeats, Reflection and Summary

The footsteps from the southwest corner drew closer and closer, making the ground tremble faintly. I gripped Flowing Abyss tightly. My body still carried the fatigue of the previous battles, but I could not retreat.

That person stepped out.

His entire body was wreathed in black flames. The fire neither drifted nor flickered, like solidified magma clinging to his body. His eyes were two dark-red masses, like sparks hidden deep within burnt charcoal. I had never seen him before, yet a line of text automatically appeared in the system:

[Flame Ash Demon King, ancient demon of the Southern Desolate Volcano Belt, adept at Molten Lava True Intent, capable of burning away Spiritual Platform Clarity.]

He said nothing. With a stomp of his right foot, the ground split open and crimson-hot currents burst forth. I leaped left, while the spirit beast pounced at the same time, only to be blasted back by a wave of heat.

The battle began.

His attacks were extremely steady, every strike carrying a dull boom. I did not dare meet them head-on and relied on footwork to circle around him. In the seventh exchange, he slammed a palm into the ground, and three streams of fire shot up from different directions. I misjudged it and dodged right, only to find that route was an illusion. The true killing move came from beneath my feet.

A pillar of fire shot into the sky, flinging my entire body into the air.

I forcibly twisted my body in midair, trying to use Flowing Abyss to block, but he was already waiting there. His fist smashed into my chest. My bones cracked sharply, and I was sent crashing directly onto the stone platform.

The blade flew from my hand and stabbed into the soil.

I braced myself against the ground and tried to stand. Sweetness rose in my throat, and I spat out a mouthful of blood. My vision blurred slightly as I saw him standing not far away, the black flames slowly withdrawing into his body.

"You're not bad," he said. "Not many can last until the seventh exchange."

I did not respond. I only felt as though my organs were burning, my meridians scorched through by fire.

He turned and left. When he reached the mouth of the valley, he stopped. "Come again in three days."

The wind swept up ashes and scattered them across my face.

The spirit beast crawled over and lay beside me, its breathing heavy. I raised a hand and stroked its head, then slowly moved to the center of the stone platform and leaned against a broken stone pillar.

Only half a bottle of Soul Protecting Dew remained. I poured it out and drank it. My mind cleared somewhat, but my body still felt heavy. The system interface emerged, glowing patterns flowing across it.

[Retrieve combat data stream?]

I confirmed it.

Scenes replayed one after another within my sea of consciousness. In the third exchange, I could have sidestepped and circled behind him, but I chose to retreat. In the fifth, his palm trembled slightly—a sign that he was gathering power—but I failed to notice it. In the seventh exchange... before that strike, the ground had indeed trembled faintly, but I had relied on spiritual-sense scanning and ignored the movement beneath my feet.

Words Zhen Yuanzi had once spoken suddenly surfaced in my mind—the earth could speak, but too few people understood it.

I closed my eyes and reorganized the rhythm. His attacks had not been without warning. I had simply relied too much on the system prompts and the range of my spiritual senses, forgetting the most basic sense of the ground.

[Generate three-dimensional simulation model?]

I confirmed it.

A phantom battlefield appeared again. This time, in the sixth exchange, I chose to close in along the right side. As expected, power gathered in his palm, the ground shook, and streams of fire erupted from the left. I used the chance to circle behind him, and Flowing Abyss slashed toward the back of his neck. Direct hit.

The model showed that if I had reacted correctly at the time, I could not only have avoided severe injury but also had a chance to kill him in return.

I opened my eyes and dug my fingers into my palm.

It was not that I lacked strength. My judgment had been wrong.

The consecutive days of battle had gotten me used to winning. Every time the system gave me a question, I answered correctly, and I obtained one magical treasure after another. I thought that as long as my reactions were quick and my cultivation art was strong, I could remain undefeated. But in that battle just now, there had been no system question and no reward notification. He gave me no time to think, forcing me to make decisions in a real battle.

I had lost.

And I had lost clearly.

The spirit beast gave a low growl and looked up at me. I reached out and pressed the golden pattern on its neck. "We can't rely on luck anymore," I said softly.

I sat upright cross-legged, retrieved Flowing Abyss, and laid it across my legs. A thin crack ran along the blade, left behind from the earlier battles. I had never found the time to repair it. I ran my fingertip along the crack, and the cold touch cleared my mind.

It was easy not to grow arrogant in victory. It was difficult not to lose heart in defeat.

I knew that what I needed to do most was not seek revenge, nor immediately restore my fighting strength, but figure out exactly where I fell short.

I said to the system, "Activate Tactical Re-training Mode."

[Set simulation opponent level?]

"Same level. Three battles per day."

[Add environmental interference factors?]

"Yes."

[Limit cultivation art usage count?]

"Limit the third form of the Nine Revolutions Profound Origin Art to twice."

After finishing that, I took out an old, worn booklet from my clothes—the complete Nine Revolutions Profound Origin Art. I had been too busy responding to challenges before to read it carefully. Only now did I discover that before the fourth form, Cloud Collapse, there was a preparatory sequence describing how to divide spiritual power from the dantian into three paths, creating a suppressive force.

I had always skipped that step and directly driven my spiritual power into an explosion. No wonder its power had not even reached thirty percent.

I lowered my head and read the words line by line. Back in the modern world, whenever I encountered a difficult problem, I would repeat the exercises until I fully understood it. It was the same now. I was not a genius. I was simply more willing than others to turn back and review my mistakes.

The sky outside gradually darkened, and the valley fell quiet. The distant figures had dispersed long ago. No one would enter tonight.

I tore off a strip of cloth from my clothes, dipped it in blood, and drew the Flame Ash Demon King's attack routes across the stone platform. Three streams of fire, one launch into the air, seven palm strikes. Every one of them had a warning sign. I simply had not caught them.

The spirit beast lay by my feet, its ears twitching from time to time as it listened to the wind.

I continued flipping through the booklet until I found the section on spiritual power distribution. It turned out that the third form should not release all its power at once. First, half a portion of power should be compressed at the Jianjing Acupoint, then gradually pushed forward. That would create a second acceleration when the blade was drawn.

No wonder that strike had been so weak.

I memorized the key points and closed the book. Looking up at the sky, I saw the stars beginning to appear. This battle had cost me face, but it had also shown me where my limits lay.

I was not afraid of losing. What I feared was not knowing how I had lost.

For the next three days, I would accept no challenges. It would be the same no matter who came. I would master every move and carve every reaction into instinct.

The system floated silently in my sea of consciousness. It no longer gave questions or rewards. It knew that what I needed now was not resources, but cultivation.

I closed my eyes and began circulating the basic cycle. Spiritual power flowed slowly. It was somewhat sluggish when passing through the damaged meridians, but smoother than before.

Tomorrow's first simulated battle would begin at dawn.

I had to be ready.

My fingers lightly tapped the blade twice. The crack remained, but my grip was steadier.

The night wind swept across the stone platform, carrying away the last trace of warmth.

My breaths slowly lengthened, and my heartbeat steadied.

In the distant woods, a withered leaf fell from a branch, spinning as it drifted down.

The tip of the blade trembled slightly.