The Rise of History’s Most Powerful Empire

For the first decade, inner qi user was weaker than battle aura user. But in the long run, they'd slowly make up for it and ultimately gain the upper hand. What made inner qi a true asset was in a battle of the same ranks, where boundless stamina made it invincible and able to fight even dozens of battle aura users.

But inner qi did not lack crash courses or methods either. In The Smilling, Proud Wanderer, there was Sunflower Scripture and Star Breathing. 

For a price, one's strength soared.

Some inner qi arts were focused on slaughter, which the military used. As the killing continued and they bathed in blood, strength would rise as well.

Often enough, to gain in years what others needed decades came down to paying with one's life.

But those that crawled out of a mountain of corpses would be stronger than your average practitioner. 

Their killing instinct was ingrained in their bones, giving them an edge in a fight, and becoming the last man standing.

The soldiers he'd exchange for would also be training in such arts. Though easy to crumble under the art's torment if one did not advance in time.

Such arts boosted the speed of training inner qi by consuming the user's energy, and absorbing the bloodlust on the field of battle. Essentially, boosting the training speed. As long as the slaughter was endless, every second brought with it equals new power. 

For the ones with ambition and drive to go places, they would never lower themselves to waste their lives on such damaging arts.

Especially when the path of inner qi only widened in the future. This presented Zhong Yu with two choices.

The first was to continue training inner qi, gaining strength at a slow measured step until one reached the gods. The stuff the martial artists from Feng Yun could do was no different from real cultivators.

The second choice was to switch methods midway to an immortal cultivator method, focusing on the spirit and reaching a point where one could even fly. An immortal cultivator had many many more skills than a martial artist and their speed of training depended solely on their spirit root.

To sum it up, if he was confident enough in himself, he'd train in a martial art. If not, but had a great spirit root, he'd go for cultivation. 

A martial artist held the power of the world inside them. A cultivator borrows the power of the world for their use. One had the power, the other was a proxy. The former was reserved to geniuses while the latter was the common choice for the rest. It all came down to one's aptitude.

Of course, no matter the path, both reached the same type of ultimate power if taken long enough and trained hard enough. 

Regardless of the field  one focused on, reaching the pinnacle hardly made a difference between others. Just that before reaching it, the user was hardly different from a common man. 

But those without a field never cared much about it, only caring about gaining more power to be stronger than others. In that period, one could switch paths as many times as he wanted.

Weighing the western and eastern power systems, Zhong Yu was still leaning on the eastern one, having been raised in an eastern culture. And besides, the east had many quick arts and stronger methods.

Besides the mystical and intricate skills he got, the eastern power system relied on one's knowledge of truth. While the west was crude and only knew how to amass battle aura or magic power without any substance.

From what the system had to offer, there were many types of powered soldiers from the eastern system. Though one crucial fact wasn't explained.

Zhong Yu panicked and asked with unprecedented worry, "Wait, system, aren't you forgetting something? Is it my low authority that forbids me to change for training methods or am I unsuited for the arts?"

The system paused and said, "Host is the sovereign, who can lavish in glory, wealth and women as you gather  the core of humanity around you and the envy  of others. While adding cultivation in the mix will incur the envy of heavens and a most gruesome death."

Crestfallen, his heart was overcome by deep sorrow, ‘I can't cultivate? What of my dreams? Will  living forever and wielding unstoppable force be forever out of my reach?'

Then Zhong Yu perked up and poured all his hopes in one last try.

"You mean a sovereign can't cultivate, can't live forever? Then why do I hear of countless kingdoms having amazing power? Did they not train as well? And there's Yellow Emperor of ancient China and Chiyou who he killed, both had amazing cultivation. Did they not cultivate as well?"

The system knew this was coming and its response was flat.

"The cultivation methods of those kings can only increase their power and not their lifespan."

"To increase their lifespan as well, they would have to relinquish their authority to their descendants. This is the price for having both power and a longer life. "

"To say nothing of heaven bringing its wrath down on any who did it, the nobility of every nation would never want to see an undying king forever cutting off their path to power."

"You mean if he doesn't step down, someone will force him to? What kinda shitty end is that?" 

"Regarding Chiyou, he held the power of gods and still clung to authority and riches. This made Yellow Emperor kill him and scatter his corpse across the lands."

The Yellow Emperor then unified China, but only ruled for a hundred years before he ascended. It showed his detachment from the secular world and its vices. It was the agreement he had with all the other gods."

The flat and cold tone of the system crushed Zhong Yu's last faint hope to smithereens.

In despair, finding all his actions devoid of meaning, unable to enjoy what he gained, all the work he put in getting anything had lost its value.

While working hard to gain riches, an endless harem to play with in the mountain's landscapes, all still paled to immortality.

Zhong Yu was consumed by sadness and twisted revenge. But who to take it out on? He hated the system for crushing his last chance.

But then he recalled the system saying something that relit a fire in his heart. It lifted his spirits and drive to work hard again.