Silence.
Kael collapsed forward slightly, catching himself against the floor with shaking arms. The pain vanished almost instantly. Only cold exhaustion remained.
The Murim master stared at him carefully.
“…Child.”
Kael breathed unevenly against the floorboards.
“I assume,” he muttered weakly, “that wasn’t supposed to happen.”
The ghost did not answer immediately.
Instead, he slowly crouched beside him. Then he pointed toward Kael’s chest.
“Look.”
Kael frowned weakly.
Then he felt it.
Tiny.
Almost nonexistent.
But undeniably present.
A thread of energy pulsed quietly beneath his ribs.
Not ambient mana.
Not external energy.
Chaotic mana refined through his own circulation.
Kael’s eyes widened slightly.
“That should not have worked?”
“No,” the old master said softly.
“It should not have.”
The ghost’s expression remained trapped somewhere between awe and alarm.
“An ordinary cultivator would require weeks merely to stabilize their first internal thread.”
Kael slowly sat upright despite the lingering tremors in his arms.
The thread beneath his ribs pulsed again.
Weak.
Violent.
Unstable.
And suddenly Kael understood something disturbing about the process.
“It's still horrifying,” Kael commented.
“The instability doesn’t disappear completely,” the old master said.
“The body refines part of the energy... urg...while the rest remains behind?” Kael asked with a grunt.
The old master slowly nodded.
For several seconds, he remained silent.
Then he finally spoke.
“You noticed quickly.”
Kael looked toward him.
The ghost folded his sleeves behind his back.
“What you absorbed tonight was not ordinary mana.”
Silence settled heavily across the room.
“Listen closely. The mana used by orthodox cultivators had already passed through natural stabilization,” the old master continued. “Nature itself refines ambient mana over time. The violent aspects weaken. The instability fades, which makes the energy safer for mortal bodies to process.”
Kael listened quietly.
“But before that refinement occurs,” the ghost said softly, “mana exists in a crude state.”
The old master’s eyes darkened slightly.
“The chaotic and violent you felt is vastly more powerful than what your knights use.”
Kael frowned.
“And your cultivation method processes that state directly.”
“Yes.”
The ghost paced slowly across the room.
“Crude energy naturally contains both yin and yang aspects before refinement. The cultivation process separates which properties the body can harmonize with naturally.”
Kael’s thoughts accelerated immediately.
“And the rest?”
“Remains behind.”
The ghost glanced toward Kael’s chest.
“That excess becomes impurity.”
Kael rubbed slowly at his forehead.
“So the impurities are not useless waste.”
“No.”
The old master looked almost offended by the suggestion.
“A male body harmonizes more efficiently with yang-aligned aspects. A female body processes yin more effectively. The incompatible portions accumulate because the cultivator cannot refine incompatible mana.”
That explained the instability immediately.
Orthodox mana cultivation avoided the issue entirely because nature already performed the balancing process beforehand.
This method skipped stabilization completely.
More power.
Faster growth.
Far greater consequences.
“And those impurities cause the emotional instability,” Kael murmured.
“Yes.”
“The aggression.”
“Yes.”
“The obsessive behavior.”
The old master nodded calmly.
“Excess imbalance amplifies instinct over reason.”
That was deeply concerning.
The ghost continued pacing.
“Most demonic practitioners eventually developed purification methods to prevent excessive accumulation.”
Kael immediately focused on that.
“How.”
The old master answered without hesitation.
“Starvation. Physical exhaustion. Bleeding.”
Reasonable enough.
Then he added casually—
“Dual cultivation existed primarily for this reason as well.”
Kael blinked once.
“…I’m sorry, what?”
The ghost looked mildly annoyed at the interruption.
“Yin and yang naturally stabilize one another during energy exchange. The excess polarity one cultivator cannot process becomes beneficial to the other.”
Silence filled the room.
Kael stared at him.
The old master stared back calmly.
Then realization struck.
Kael slowly covered his face with one hand.
“You built an entire forbidden cultivation system around spiritualized sex.”
The ghost looked deeply offended.
“When phrased with such barbaric vulgarity, it sounds absurd.”
“It is absurd.”
“It is efficient.”
“That somehow makes it worse.”
The old master scoffed loudly.
“Young people today have no respect for foundational cultivation principles. Look, out of all the purification methods I told you, what is better than sex?”
Kael groaned quietly into his hand.
Unfortunately, the logic made perfect sense.
Crude mana entered unstable and unbalanced. The cultivation process refined compatible properties internally while incompatible aspects accumulated over time as impurity.
Yang-heavy buildup in male cultivators.
Yin-heavy buildup in female cultivators.
Dual cultivation allowed both practitioners to stabilize impurity accumulation while refining additional energy simultaneously.
Efficient.
Elegant.
Mortifying.
The old master continued lecturing with complete sincerity.
“Many foolish cultivators believed restraint alone represented discipline. Then the impurities accumulated, emotional instability worsened, and suddenly they were murdering rivals over imagined insults.” He waved dismissively. “Purification methods existed for a reason.”
Kael stared blankly upward at the ceiling.
Inside the library of his mental palace, a new section quietly categorized itself.
Emergency Impurity Management Protocols.
Kael immediately hated that his brain had archived it seriously.
“…I refuse to build a dedicated room for this.”
“You absolutely should.”
“I will burn the library down first.”
“Hmph. Immature.”
The old master folded his arms behind his back and eyed Kael thoughtfully.
“Though your situation is somewhat strange.”
Kael narrowed his eyes immediately.
“You are a prince, correct?” The old master asked Kael.
“…Yes.”
The old master blinked once.
“Then why are you speaking as though this presents a logistical challenge?”
Kael felt immediate danger approaching.
The ghost frowned in visible confusion.
“You are wealthy. Noble. Reasonably attractive despite looking perpetually half-dead.” His brows furrowed. “Do you not have any maidens?”
Silence.
Kael stared at him.
The old master stared back.
Then very slowly—
very carefully—
Kael said, “Did you just ask me why I don’t have bitches?”
The ghost looked offended immediately.
“I did not phrase it so crudely.”
“That was spiritually the exact sentence.”
“Hmph.” The old master folded his sleeves behind his back. “Most young masters in your position usually create problems by having too many women.”
“I spent most of my childhood clinically insane.”
“A temporary obstacle.”
“I was hallucinating dead people.”
“Many cultivators do that intentionally.”
“That is somehow worse.”
The old master sighed heavily like a disappointed elder.
“Tragic. A prince with weak cultivation, poor health, no sect, and no women.” He shook his head slowly. “Your foundation is disastrous.”
Kael stared blankly upward at the ceiling while the rain continued tapping softly against the windows.
Inside his chest, the thin thread of refined energy pulsed faintly beneath his ribs.
Weak.
Violent.
Unstable.
But real.
The old master continued pacing nearby with his hands folded behind his back while Kael mentally reorganized the horrifying amount of information he had just received.
"Fortunately, the impurities are still in small amounts," Kael said tiredly.
The old master snorted.
“For now.”
Kael lowered his hand slightly.
The ghost pointed directly at his chest.
“You cultivated your first thread in a single night. Do you understand how abnormal that is?” His eyes narrowed. “At your speed, impurity accumulation will become noticeable very quickly.”
Kael’s expression flattened immediately. "…This is going to become troublesome."
“Child, you worry too much.”
“I don't think I'm going to like where this is going.”
The old master waved dismissively. “Why are you even concerned? There is already a perfectly suitable partner nearby.”
"What the fuck are you talk —"
The door slammed open.
Kael nearly jumped.
Elara stood at the entrance in oversized sleepwear with disheveled silver hair spilling around her shoulders while panic filled her wide crimson eyes.
“I heard grunting!” she blurted immediately.
Silence.
The old master slowly turned toward Kael.
Kael closed his eyes.
Of course.
Of course, this was happening now.
Elara looked between Kael sitting on the floor, the bloodstains on the wood, his exhausted expression, and the heavy breathing he had not fully recovered from yet.
Then her face became increasingly horrified.
“…Young master.”
Kael already knew exactly what she thought she had walked into.
“It is not what it looks like.”
The old master burst into wheezing laughter.
Elara’s expression somehow became even more alarmed.
“You’re bleeding!”
She rushed toward him immediately while Kael contemplated whether spontaneous death was still an available option.
Elara dropped beside him with frantic concern written across her face.
“What happened?! Are you hurt? Did your condition get worse again?”
Kael opened his mouth and paused.
Because explaining that he had just survived experimental demonic mana refinement under the guidance of a dead martial arts lunatic who believed dual cultivation was medically efficient somehow felt harder to explain than simply dying quietly.
The old master continued laughing in the background like an ancient menace personally sent by heaven to ruin Kael’s life.