Chapter 80: Level Up
After Kian entered the house, Jia quickly left his arms and walked into the room where the sound of others were coming from.
Kian did not try to catch her.
He sat down by the low table and crossed his legs, letting out a long, quiet breath.
The noise of the women laughing in the room drifted through the walls, soft and comforting.
’It seems the girls would make Xiao Cui comfortable soon. She seemed like a lonely girl, it is good that she can have friends.’
Closing his eyes, he pulled up his system interface.
The blue screen expanded in his mind, displaying his three martial techniques in glowing text.
Iron Skin sat at Medium, Wind Step at Medium, and Art of the Blood Beasts at Initiate.
He had one hundred Fortune points back in his pool after stealing Xiao Cui from Su Chen.
’What should I upgrade?’
Iron Skin at Medium already made his body as tough as reinforced bronze. Pushing it to High would likely turn his flesh into actual iron, making him nearly immune to normal physical attacks.
Survival was always the most important thing for a cultivator who liked to stir up trouble.
But with Qi weapons, even Iron wouldn’t be that safe.
Then there was Wind Step.
At Medium, he could run up walls and glide across rooftops like a phantom.
Reaching High would grant him the ability to step on water and move at speeds that would leave equal-stage cultivators staring at afterimages.
Lastly, the Art of the Blood Beasts remained at Initiate, but he already knew upgrading it required three hundred points. That left him with a choice between defense and speed.
Both were tempting, but mobility had already saved his life and helped him pull off his best schemes.
It will be Wind Step!
He focused his intent on Wind Step and authorized the upgrade.
The hundred Fortune points vanished instantly, replaced by a sudden, icy surge of energy that flooded straight into his legs and meridians.
The icy current rushed down from his dantian like a mountain stream hitting a sheer drop.
It split at his hips, weaving through the complex meridians of his thighs and calves until his lower body felt weightless, as if his feet were barely touching the wooden floor.
In his mind’s eye, the shadowy figure reappeared.
It ran across the surface of a deep, dark lake, every step leaving a rippling circle of light that hardened into a solid foothold just long enough for the next stride.
Kian watched the figure move without weight or friction.
He felt his own spirit-pathways widening to mirror the motion, adapting to the subtle shift in airflow and weight distribution.
The pressure in his legs didn’t burn like it usually did during cultivation; instead, it felt like cold silk wrapping around his bones. The sheer control it granted him over his own momentum was staggering.
He wasn’t just pushing against the air anymore—he was riding it.
He opened his eyes and stood up in a single, fluid motion that made no sound at all. The floorboards beneath his boots didn’t even creak.
He took a single step forward, and before his foot could touch the wood, a faint cushion of compressed air formed beneath his sole, suspending him a millimeter off the ground.
He glided across the main room toward the open window, moving so fast that his shadow seemed to lag half a second behind his actual body.
Reaching the window, he stepped out onto the narrow ledge. He looked down at the small rain barrel sitting in the courtyard, filled to the brim with clear water.
Kian leaned forward and dropped into the yard, but instead of plunging into the barrel, his right boot lightly touched the liquid surface. The water didn’t splash.
A tiny ripple spread outward, and Kian stood perfectly balanced on top of the water like a water strider, a satisfied grin breaking across his face.
Meanwhile, back in the Jinguan Sect.
Inside the dark study, Zhang Wu sat rigidly behind the desk while his uncle and the butler watched him with nervous, sweating faces.
Through the puppet thread, Kian’s spiritual intent surged into the fat youth’s brain, seizing full control of his body to check on the situation in the sect.
Zhang Wu’s crimson-tinted eyes flickered with cold intelligence as he leaned forward, knocking his heavy knuckles against the pearwood desk.
"Su Chen had a god-like momentum until now, to the point the people of the sect were starting to considering him favored by the heavens," the puppet said, his voice dropping into a flat, robotic tone.
"Uncle, if I am correct, he just had his servant stolen by a random person. Not just stolen physically, but mentally as well. Do you know what that means?"
Zhang Baole wiped his damp forehead with a silk sleeve and nodded frantically, terrified of both Su Chen’s blade and his nephew’s bizarre new authority.
"His momentum is now broken. A lot of people were afraid of it, now, that doesn’t have to be the case. Su Chen is also just a normal person, and he can bleed."
Zhang Wu chuckled.
"Go, spread the news and ruin his reputation."
"I—I will arrange it immediately, Wu’er! But what are we going to do once we do that?"
"We wait," Zhang Wu replied, a dry, lifeless smile stretching across his fat face as Kian cut the direct connection, leaving the blood beast to run the puppet on passive orders while he turned his attention back to his peaceful home.
Kian stepped off the water barrel, landing soundlessly on the courtyard cobblestones as he severed the active link to his fat puppet.
His rationale for spreading the rumor was simple and cold. Stealing Xiao Cui had chipped away at Su Chen’s Fortune points, but stripping the reincarnated Soul Lord of his heavens-favored narrative would bleed him of the rest.
A "Chosen One" relied heavily on the invisible momentum of destiny, a aura of invincibility that made enemies hesitate and allies submit.
By publicizing the fact that Su Chen couldn’t even keep a mortal maid from being stolen out from under his nose, that golden aura would shatter.
Cultivators were a fickle, predatory bunch. Once the sect elders and rival disciples realized Su Chen was capable of taking a humiliating loss, the respect and fear holding them back would turn into bloodthirsty ambition.
They would challenge him, sabotage his resources, and obstruct his path at every turn.
Every time Su Chen suffered a setback or lost a chance at a lucky encounter because of the public disgrace, the system would register it as a lost opportunity.
Kian wouldn’t even have to lift a finger for half of it. He would just sit back, harvest the resulting Fortune points as the city’s wolves tore into the wounded genius, and use those points to stack his own power higher.
It was an efficient, passive method to farm the reincarnator until the man was drained completely dry.
Ding!
A golden screen flared directly across his field of vision, the glowing text shimmering bright against the dark courtyard.
[You have successfully disrupted the Chosen One’s momentum and public standing.]
[Fortune +100]
[Su Chen’s Remaining Fortune: 1900]
Kian chuckled softly as the text faded into the dark night, the numbers settling neatly into his mind.
Hahahaha! Great.
He hadn’t expected the system to give him the Fortune Points so quickly.
A wide smile spread across his face as he looked at the fresh one hundred points in his pool.
He didn’t even have to hesitate.
His eyes shifted back to the status screen, carefully evaluating his options.
With Wind Step now at High, he could move fast enough to leave afterimages and tread on water like solid ground. If he improved it again, he would reach mastery.
Iron Skin was currently at Medium. Upgrading it to High would cost another hundred points, turning his body from reinforced bronze to something as tough as true iron.
He tapped his chin in thought.
With a flesh body that hard, low-tier Qi blades would simply shatter against his skin. It was the ultimate safety net for someone who planned to play the villain from behind the scenes.
He focused his mind back on Wind Step and authorized the upgrade without another second of hesitation.
It was too good.
First, he will max it out before anything else.
The newly acquired hundred Fortune points vanished instantly, dissolving into a blinding flash of golden light that sank straight into his legs.
Another wave of cold silk energy surged through his meridians, hitting his lower body with twice the force of the previous level-up.
His legs throbbed with a strange, weightless pressure, the Qi inside his calf channels expanding so rapidly that it felt as though his veins were being replaced by hollow silver tubes made for conducting pure air.
In his mind’s eye, the shadowy figure appeared for a third time, but it wasn’t running up a wall or stepping on a lake anymore.
It was still for a moment.
Then...
The figure leaped straight off the top of a mountain into the empty sky, taking three distinct, solid steps on thin air itself before launching higher into the clouds without falling an inch.
It could stand on air.
It could walk on air.
It could run on air.
Kian felt as if he had trained for years in the craft.
Hooof!
Kian opened his eyes, the reflection of the silver moon dancing in his pupils as the ethereal vision melted into his memory.
Wind Step had reached mastery—the level where air itself became a staircase beneath his boots.
He didn’t make a grand spectacle of it.
Instead, he simply bent his knees and jumped upward, stepping lightly onto the empty air three feet above the courtyard dirt.
That was when Jia’s call came: "Kian, get your ass over here!"