Cultivation starts with picking up attributes

The mountain winds carried a strange stillness. Even the spirit beasts in their pens had gone silent, their instinctive senses aware of something far more ominous than ordinary predators. From the western ridges, where the light of the stars began to dim unnaturally, the foreign army finally revealed itself.

Tian Shen stood at the forefront of the northern cliff, the spear balanced lightly in his hands. His silver-lit eyes reflected the glow of torches and the glimmer of runes that crawled like insects across the enemy's armor.

The sight was as alien as it was terrifying: warriors clad in iron that pulsed with qi not their own, warlocks carrying blackened obelisks, and beasts bound with chains that hummed like living formations.

The Root Division tightened their ranks behind him. Each disciple breathed in unison, formation qi flowing like one body. Feng Yin moved silently to Tian Shen's side, her sword drawn, her eyes calm despite the pressure building across the battlefield.

"They've changed their pattern," she said softly. "Not reckless like before. Every step is measured."

"Which means their commander learned," Tian Shen replied, his voice low. "He'll test us, peel away layers until he finds a weakness."

Elder Su's calm presence settled behind them. "Then you must ensure he finds nothing but steel."

The first drumbeat echoed across the ridges. A sound not made by mortal hands, but by an artifact hammered into the ground.

The vibration alone distorted the air, pressing against the chest like the weight of a mountain.

Then they came.

Lines of foreign soldiers marched with precision, their movements so synchronized they might have been puppets on strings.

The ground itself trembled as obelisks were thrust into the earth, glowing with runes that warped qi into streams of corrupted power. The sky dimmed further, the stars veiled by unnatural haze.

"Archers!" Feng Yin's voice rang out. The command carried across the formation.

Rows of Feilun disciples lifted bows inscribed with talismans, arrows flaring with fire, lightning, and wind. At her gesture, the first volley flew. The sky rained light—flames streaking like meteors, bolts cracking like thunder. They struck the front line of the foreign army, exploding in flashes of qi that shook the ground.

But as the smoke cleared, the soldiers marched on, shields glowing with foreign runes. Their formation never faltered.

"Again!" Feng Yin commanded, her sword raised. A second volley fired, this one infused with coordinated array work. Explosions ripped into the enemy line, staggering their steps—but still, they came.

Tian Shen's grip tightened on his spear. "Form the lattice!"

The Root Division spread, forming interlocking arrays across the cliff's edge. Lines of silver and jade light connected between them, a living barrier of qi that pulsed like a heartbeat. The moment the enemy crossed within range, the formation flared, spears thrusting in unison, talismans detonating at carefully measured intervals.

The clash shook the mountain.

Foreign soldiers struck against the barrier like a tide of steel. Each blow was amplified by their obelisks, crashing like thunder against the disciples' defense. But the Root Division held, their training under Tian Shen transforming instinct into precision. Every disciple moved as though bound by one will, striking not randomly, but with deliberate counters.

Feng Yin leapt into the fray, her sword slicing through a chain-bound beast that lunged at the barrier. Sparks and blood sprayed across the cliff, but she was already moving, carving through the bindings of another warlock before his spell could finish. Her strikes were swift, decisive, and unrelenting.

Tian Shen's silver flames ignited.

He surged forward, his spear blurring in arcs of light. The weapon struck like a storm, piercing through shields, severing chains, shattering the gauntlets that carried corrupted qi. Every thrust was a crack of thunder, every sweep a wave of silver fire. He became the tip of the spear formation—sharp, unyielding, unstoppable.

Yet the foreign army adapted.

Obelisks pulsed, sending waves of distortion that twisted the Root Division's arrays. Soldiers shifted formations mid-charge, countering Feilun's defenses with uncanny precision. A second wave of beasts charged, their bodies augmented with flesh-bound runes, their roars shaking the ridge.

One beast broke through the line, a hulking creature with six limbs and armor grown from its flesh. Disciples staggered beneath its charge.

Tian Shen moved like lightning. His spear struck the ground, sending a shockwave that destabilized the creature's footing. He vaulted upward, silver flames roaring around him, and drove his weapon straight through its skull. The beast collapsed, the earth quaking beneath its corpse.

But more pressed forward.

The enemy commander had yet to reveal himself, and already the tide strained the Feilun defenses. Sweat beaded across disciples' brows as they forced their qi into the lattice, faces pale from the relentless assault.

"Hold!"

Tian Shen roared. His voice cut through exhaustion, a blade sharper than fear.

The Root Division rallied, their qi surging in renewed unity. Elder Su raised a hand, and a secondary formation bloomed behind the lines, channeling restorative energy into the exhausted disciples. The balance shifted—just enough for the barrier to hold.

And then, the enemy commander stepped into view.

He was clad in dark armor, etched with runes that shimmered like molten glass. The fractured gauntlet Tian Shen had once cracked was now reforged, its surface glowing with deeper, more terrible power. His aura rolled across the battlefield, pressing down like a tidal wave.

The foreign soldiers parted for him as he advanced, each step carrying the weight of inevitability. His gaze fixed on Tian Shen.

"You again." His voice carried across the battlefield, cold and heavy. "The spear of Feilun."

Tian Shen raised his weapon, silver flames flickering higher. "If you came expecting weakness, you'll leave broken again."

The commander lifted his reforged gauntlet, and the obelisks pulsed in unison. The ground shook violently as their power converged into his form. His qi swelled monstrously, an entire army's might compressed into one man.

"Then break."

He moved.

The world blurred. One moment he was distant; the next, his gauntlet collided with Tian Shen's spear in an explosion of silver and black light. The shockwave ripped through the cliff, hurling disciples back. Formations flickered dangerously, talismans tore from the earth.

Tian Shen braced, his Core flaring to its limit. Silver flames roared around him, meeting the commander's dark tide. The air screamed, the clash shaking the mountain to its bones.

For an instant, time seemed suspended—two forces locked in primal collision, neither yielding.

Feng Yin rushed forward, her blade intercepting a strike aimed for Tian Shen's side. Sparks showered as her sword met a blackened chain, severing it in one clean motion. She did not falter, her stance steady beside him.

"We hold together," she said, voice calm despite the storm.

Tian Shen's lips curved in the faintest of smiles. "Always."

The battle raged deeper into the night.

The Root Division fought with desperate precision, each disciple embodying the strength of training and unity. Elder Su's calm guidance anchored the wavering lines, his hand weaving barriers that turned aside what strikes would have broken the weak. Lian Hua and her Azure Phoenix disciples unleashed searing arrays, firebirds tearing through enemy ranks in blazing arcs.

And at the center, Tian Shen and Feng Yin stood against the foreign commander.

Every clash shook the earth. Every strike carved rifts into the battlefield. The silver of Tian Shen's spear clashed with the black fire of the gauntlet, sparks raining like stars torn from the heavens.

But Tian Shen felt it—the slow shift. The commander's movements were sharper, his power swelling as the obelisks fed him ceaselessly. Tian Shen's Core blazed, but he could not ignore the truth: this was not a duel, but a war of attrition against an entire nation's strength condensed into one man.

And still, he did not yield.

With each strike, Tian Shen's resolve hardened. His silver flames rose higher, his spear cutting faster. He fought not just with his strength, but with the will of every disciple who stood behind him, every elder who held the line, every memory of Feilun's proud ridges that could not be allowed to fall.

At last, as the moon hung at its peak, the battlefield fell into a moment of terrible silence.

The commander's gauntlet pulsed, gathering the full force of the obelisks. Dark fire swelled, spiraling upward into a storm that threatened to obliterate the mountain itself.

Tian Shen raised his spear, silver flames coiling along its length. His Core pulsed once—twice—and then burst into brilliance.

The air split.

Silver light and black fire collided in a cataclysm that shook heaven and earth. The cliff cracked, the sky tore, and for an instant, all sound vanished.

When it returned, it was a roar of destruction.

The enemy lines broke, thrown back by the force. Disciples staggered, shielding their eyes from the blinding clash. Feng Yin stood at Tian Shen's side, her blade anchoring the formation even amidst chaos.

The dust settled slowly.

The commander still stood—but his gauntlet was fractured again, shards of molten glass falling from its surface. His breathing was ragged, his aura unstable.

And Tian Shen, though blood ran from his lips and his robes were scorched, still stood tall, spear blazing with silver fire.

The commander's gaze narrowed. "This… is not over."

He withdrew, the obelisks dimming as the foreign army pulled back in disciplined retreat. Their lines did not break into panic—they fell back with the same precision they had advanced, leaving silence in their wake.

Tian Shen lowered his spear, his chest heaving. Silver flames still burned faintly in his eyes.

Feng Yin exhaled slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing. "You forced him back again."

"No," Tian Shen said quietly, his gaze fixed on the shadow where the enemy vanished. "He retreated… because he found what he came to test. Next time, he will return prepared."

Feng Yin's jaw tightened, but she nodded. "Then so will we."

The Root Division reassembled behind them, battered but unbroken. Their faces bore exhaustion, yet their eyes carried the unmistakable gleam of pride. They had stood against the tide, and they had not fallen.

Tian Shen looked at them, his expression unreadable. But within, his Core burned hotter than ever.

The war had only begun.

And he would be ready.