The soul escapes the cycle of reincarnation, and a core is born within the body.
But forming a core was no simple feat. It demanded countless rare resources and treasures.
Snow Spirit Water. Heavenly Fire Liquid. Both were essential, cultivators could usually find them with some effort.
Dust-Reducing Pills boosted the chance of success. For the disciples of the major righteous sects, such pills were practically free once their cultivation reached the right stage. Even rogue cultivators could scrape together a handful with just a few spirit stones.
But the Dan-Jie Fruit?
Even the great sects had only a handful, and they guarded them jealously. They were reserved for those who had served the sects with distinction but whose natural talent was cking.
With one of these fruits, as long as nothing went catastrophically wrong, Core Formation was guaranteed.
The Dan-Jie Fruit hung from the treetop like a glowing jewel, tantalizingly out of reach.
One cultivator vaulted upward, reaching for it—only to be smashed out of the air by another. The fight erupted instantly.
Lauren’s chest tightened as her thoughts turned to her grandfather. Without this fruit, his path would end at the Great Perfection of Foundation Establishment. That was his limit.
If she hadn’t stumbled upon the fruit, fine. She could’ve let fate decide. But now that she had, she couldn’t just walk away. She had to get it—for him.
“Dante,” she said firmly, “take everyone and keep following Timothy. I’ll catch up ter.”
“You want the fruit?” Dante frowned. “If it’s just that, we’ve got enough people here. We can help you fight for it.”
Lauren shook her head. “No. The most important thing is following Timothy and the others. We can’t lose them.”
Dante paused. Timothy was prideful to the point of arrogance, yet he hadn’t even tried for the Dan-Jie Fruit. That in itself spoke volumes. His Junior Uncle was right—the Moonlit Sect was here for something bigger.
“Alright,” he relented. “Do what you can. And if it doesn’t work out, we’ve still got a few tucked away in Thunder Sect.”
Lauren nodded once.
Two hundred years. That was the lifespan of a Foundation Establishment cultivator. But with Core Formation, it jumped to five hundred. Three hundred years of life—granted in an instant.
The great sects had a few cultivators who’d managed to reach that stage, but Lauren couldn’t throw her identity around to demand one of their precious fruits.
The fruits were meant for people with weak spiritual roots but irrepceable contributions—like master alchemists who had brewed tens of thousands of pills for their sects.
If she demanded one, it would mean one less for someone like that.
No. She had to win this one herself.
And with that thought, Lauren strode straight into the fray.
“I’ll go with her,” Nash said quickly.
Dante cpped him on the shoulder. “Alright. Be careful.”
He turned back to the others and pressed them forward in pursuit of Timothy’s group.
On the way, he id out what Lauren had already guessed. “She was right. Herbert’s men are here for a reason.”
“Could it be,” one disciple whispered, “that they know about some great treasure hidden here?”
Dante’s mouth quirked. “Most likely. But whatever they’re after—aren’t we here for the same thing? The Hidden Mist Secret Realm only opens once a century. This chance won’t come again. If Moonlit Sect can get it, so can we. And if we can’t take it all for ourselves, we’ll split it. Either way, it won’t go to waste. Now move.”
Lauren nearly snatched the Dan-Jie Fruit several times, but in the end, she failed each attempt.
Nash, sweating from the tension, sent her a voice transmission: “Lauren, anyone who gets close is instantly swarmed. This is pointless—you’ll burn yourself out before you even touch it. I’ll cover you with a formation. Together, we can pull this off.”
Lauren gave a sharp nod.
Nash whipped out a formation fg, calling forth a storm of wind and rain.
For two heartbeats, chaos reigned. Dust and grit filled the air, blinding eyes, throwing people off bance.
But everyone here was a hardened cultivator at the peak of Foundation Establishment. None of them were weaklings.
The moment passed quickly. Within seconds, the mob’s fury turned on Nash. His formation was torn apart, his fg shattered, and he himself was bsted back like a rag doll.
But two seconds was all Lauren needed.
She used the cover to unch herself upward, her body slicing through the haze. Her fingers closed around the Dan-Jie Fruit—success, at st.
She hadn’t even nded when a shadow streaked from the void, faster than lightning, and ripped the fruit from her grasp.
The thief’s triumphant grin froze on his face as another cultivator barreled into him, snatching the fruit for himself.
And then another stole it from him.
In the blink of an eye, the fruit had changed hands three times.
“That woman’s got it!” someone shouted, finger stabbing toward Lauren.
She almost ughed from sheer fury. Are you blind, you idiot?
“No, it’s the guy in green!” she barked back, pointing at the real culprit.
But her protests meant nothing. Greed deafened them all. Half the mob lunged at the man in green, but the rest came straight for her.
Lauren’s teeth ground together. If she’d actually had the fruit, fine—at least being hunted would make sense. But being falsely accused? Attacked for nothing?
Fuck this.
Besieged on all sides, with no other choice, she pulled out the formation pte Jaxon had given her.
She poured her energy into it—and the world froze.
From her body outward, a tidal wave of ice exploded into being. In a fsh, dozens of cultivators were swallowed whole by a sprawling ice domain.
Lauren’s eyes widened. The domain from this formation wasn’t weaker than her own—it was just as terrifying. And the best part? The disk barely eat her spiritual energy.
Just who the hell were those two, to make something like this?
Gasps echoed through the chaos.
“Domain… it’s an ice domain!”
“She’s the one who beat Timothy yesterday. She already comprehended a domain?”
“Impossible. That’s a Core Formation-level aura…”
They weren’t wrong. At the heart of the frost, Lauren stood tall, her long hair whipping like a banner in the storm. The oppressive force rolling off her body was unmistakable—Core Formation.
Everyone else? Even those at the very peak of Foundation Establishment colpsed to the level of a mere sixth or seventh stage under her suppression, their chests tight, their strength smothered.
Against that kind of power, resistance was suicide.
“Cng.”
Knees hit the ground. Dozens of cultivators prostrated themselves, trembling.
Lauren’s gaze swept to the man in green. Her voice was ft, cold as her domain.
“Hand it over.”
The man swallowed hard. His hands shook as he offered up the Dan-Jie Fruit like a sacrificial offering.
Lauren flicked her wrist, and the fruit flew straight into her palm.
Nash stood frozen, staring at her in disbelief. The gap between himself and Lauren wasn’t just vast—it was a gulf he couldn’t even see across.
Lauren colpsed the ice domain in an instant, pocketed the fruit, and gave Nash a simple order: “Let’s go.”
No one followed. No one dared.
Silence lingered long after she left. Then, slowly, the whispers began.
“Wasn’t it said only Nascent Soul cultivators could use domains? How the hell did she unleash one at Foundation Establishment?”
“That’s true—for ordinary cultivators. For geniuses? The rules don’t apply.”
“Yeah. I heard Thunder Sect has another Foundation brat who can use a Wood Domain.”
“No way. That’s just a wood spell, not a real domain.”
“You don’t know shit. Domains suppress cultivation. If it can’t do that, it’s not the real thing.”
The debate went nowhere. The crowd, empty-handed, eventually dispersed, bitter and resentful.
Someone muttered, voice tinged with envy, “She’s already strong enough to guarantee Core Formation. Why fight us for the fruit? It’s like a rich ndlord stealing a beggar’s st steamed bun.”
Another scoffed. “You think she’s fighting for herself? Everyone’s fighting for someone. I’m fighting for my sister.”
“I’m fighting for my grandpa.”
“I’m fighting for my mother.”