Chapter 25: Second Awakening
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
It was well past midnight, and the world lay cloaked in darkness, as thick and quiet as a sheet of black velvet. The little village down in the valley was almost impossible to see, only dim shapes and outlines that looked more like ghosts than houses.
Qin Ming stood outside, working away at the huge Blood Snake’s tough hide. Its crimson scales were as hard as iron plates, and every time he struck them with his old Wood Cleaver, it rang out like a dull bell. He had to be careful—those razor-sharp scales could easily slice open his fingers if he slipped. Still, he couldn’t help thinking how amazing it would be if he turned this thick skin into armor; it would be like wearing a shield all over his body.
He sighed and tossed aside the Wood Cleaver. “This is too dull,” he muttered, his voice low. “Gotta find something sharper.” A couple of days back, Mu Qing Chu had given him a pair of tools: a long-handled black metal hammer and a short blade. He reached for the short blade now. It wasn’t as good as that fancy sword carried by that grim-faced stranger he’d seen, but if he put enough elbow grease into it, it might just work.
Focusing hard, Qin Ming carefully sliced open one end of the snake’s skin. Instead of trying to cut straight through, he pulled downward, peeling it away piece by piece. He’d arranged a few Sunstones around the courtyard, their gentle glow lighting up the Blood Snake’s body. In their soft light, the red skin glistened as though the creature were carved from a giant ruby.
As he tugged and cut, the crimson scales gave way to gleaming white flesh beneath. It was smooth, almost silky. Then, as he exposed the snake’s gall, he was amazed to see it glowing a strange blue, like a precious gem. He could feel the raw power inside that meat and gall—tiny sparks of spiritual energy that shimmered faintly in the night air. It was no wonder the people from Red Glow City had been so eager to get their hands on it.
“Guess those jerks knew what they were fighting over,” Qin Ming said with a snort, sounding like a stubborn teenage boy. He hacked the meat into chunks, washing each piece carefully. He didn’t plan on waiting until dawn. He wanted to push himself into his Second Awakening right now.
In this world, he knew you couldn’t afford to be slow. Danger lurked everywhere. Big families and shadowy groups from Red Glow City kept appearing in these mountains, all searching for something mysterious—hidden “nodes” of power or strange places marked by unusual signs. Especially that spot with the five-colored smoke drifting into the sky—everyone wanted to find it. The rewards were huge: rare textbooks and treasures for the first to share any clue.
Ever since the magnetic fields went wild in these forests, the Fire Springs had flickered in and out, and all sorts of weird events had begun to unfold. There were stories that high-level beasts had started “moving house,” dragging their families deeper into the mountains. But Qin Ming suspected that was just an excuse. Maybe these creatures were also hunting for something special?
Soon, he had the snake meat simmering in a pot over a small fire. The smell wafted through the quiet house, warm and savory, making his stomach rumble. Outside, the wind hissed, cold and sharp, but inside, the fragrance of the cooking meat filled every corner.
He plucked out a piece and took a bite. His eyes widened. “Whoa,” he said, voice cracking slightly like a boy’s, “this… this tastes amazing!” It didn’t taste at all like the stringy snake meat he’d eaten before. It was rich and tender, far better than any meal he’d had in a long time. Honestly, it was so good he felt like he was eating something legendary, like a bit of dragon meat straight from a storybook.
After just a few bites, he felt warmth spreading through his veins. The spiritual energy inside the Blood Snake was already hard at work, strengthening him. He eyed the glowing blue gall. Now that would be tricky. Without wine to help swallow it, he’d have to steam it and hope for the best.
“Ugh, wish I had some wine,” Qin Ming grumbled, sounding like a kid left without dessert. “Well, whatever. Let’s just steam it and see what happens.” He lowered the blue gall into a steamer, keeping a careful watch on it. That thing looked like a giant glowing jewel. It had to be packed with spiritual essence.
After a while, the gall finished steaming. Qin Ming picked it up, noticing how its blue glow still danced in the dim light. He popped a piece into his mouth and started chewing. The bitterness slammed into his taste buds like a punch.
“Ew! This is disgusting!” he shouted, scrunching his face. “Man, this is so gross… I bet even a hungry dog would spit this out!” He spat and coughed, his mouth tinged bright blue. He’d expected it to taste bad, but this was worse than swallowing medicine brewed from rotten herbs. He tried to chase away the taste with some more of the stew, but the bitterness clung to his tongue like sticky glue.
Still, he knew this was his chance. The bitter gall was a treasure all on its own. If it helped him break through his body’s limits, it would be worth the trouble. Gritting his teeth, he kept chewing and swallowing the horrible stuff, determined to strengthen himself and reach his Second Awakening.
When he finally finished the gall, Qin Ming checked his reflection in a polished pot. His lips glowed faintly blue. “Great,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I look like some weird magical creature.” Good thing it was the middle of the night, with no one around to see him looking so silly.
Before long, he felt strange waves of heat rippling through him, as if a fever had taken hold. But he didn’t panic. He kept eating the snake meat, not just to erase that nasty bitterness, but also to feed the spiritual energy now swirling inside him.
As time passed, he grew hotter, like a furnace stoked to life. This comforting warmth pushed away the chill of the night air. He could feel energy rushing through him, making him stronger with every heartbeat.
“Wow, this stuff’s no joke,” Qin Ming said to himself, his teenage voice full of awe. He grabbed his long-handled black hammer and stepped out into the snowy courtyard to practice the moves he’d learned. Swinging the hammer through the cold darkness, he felt his muscles hum with new power. Snowflakes danced in the light and gusted around him as he worked up a sweat, each swing cutting through the air with a roar.
He pressed onward, drilling the basic Blade Techniques into his bones. With every strike, he sensed himself growing more powerful—his senses sharper, his eyes clearer, his lungs breathing more deeply. This was the slow and steady path of the Second Awakening. It didn’t happen in an instant. He felt every small change, every muscle fiber strengthening, every nerve firing more quickly.
There was something almost magical about it. Each awakening made him feel alive in a whole new way, as if he could see more clearly through the darkness. He was growing taller, stronger, and more aware. He could sense that the spiritual energy was improving not only his flesh and bones, but also his mind and spirit.
After he’d practiced until his hair clung to his forehead with sweat, he went back inside. He sat down cross-legged and closed his eyes, focusing on the changes happening inside him. He wondered if he’d shoot up a few more inches this time. Old Man Liu had said that different Breathing Exercises caused different growth patterns. Some people stretched taller like rubber bands, while others hardened in strange ways, turning parts of their bodies tough as iron. He’d even mentioned bizarre techniques that gave people third eyes or other oddities straight out of myths.
Qin Ming smiled faintly at the thought. He doubted he’d grow a third eye, but who knew? He remembered Old Man Liu’s stories, half-told and half-forgotten, about how certain families had special techniques, and how rare they were. Some people, the old man had said, had to keep their growth under control, or else they’d end up giant but hollow inside, like balloons ready to pop.
As the old fellow had once remarked—when a bit tipsy, no less—Qin Ming’s growth after the First Awakening hadn’t been that dramatic. Maybe this time would be different. Qin Ming decided he’d just wait and see. There was no use worrying over it right now.
He also realized how little he actually knew about awakenings. The big families in Red Glow City probably had all the knowledge he lacked. Some people didn’t rely on Awakening at all, following completely different paths that he could hardly imagine.
Eventually, his stomach rumbled again, reminding him that these changes burned up energy fast. He dug back into the snake stew, finishing off what remained to refuel the fire burning inside him. When he was done, he rinsed off with cold water, shivering a bit as the night wind blew through the quiet house.
Then he slipped into bed, his mind drifting into a half-sleep, half-dream. Just before he fully nodded off, he noticed that faint silver-golden light flickering over his skin again—his “Golden and Silver Armor Technique,” as he liked to think of it, glowing gently like something alive.
He drifted deeper, breathing softly, his body recovering and growing stronger every moment. In that restful, dreamlike state, he glimpsed strange memories hidden beneath the surface of his mind, as if a dusty black cloth had been drawn back just a little. He saw fragments of his childhood self, memories he thought he’d lost forever. The Second Awakening was not just shaping his body, but his mind too, peeling back layers of forgetfulness.
In the quiet darkness, he half-heard a voice whisper: “This technique… it’s impressive, but it can’t be mastered.” Then, through that tiny opening in the veil of his memory, he spotted a large, calloused hand holding a thin, old book. As a page turned, he saw himself as a child, peering in with wide, curious eyes.