Chapter 103

Chapter 103: Thirteen Bends

For star-breaking realm experts, the thing they most desperately wanted was an unusual planet.

To break through from star-breaking realm to full-star realm, one needed to absorb an entire planet’s starforce.

And the more unusual the planet, the stronger the starforce—and the stronger the cultivator after the breakthrough.

The Frost Splendor Sect possessed many planets containing Frost Splendor starforce. If someone could absorb one completely, their starforce would transform into Frost Splendor starforce, making them stronger than ordinary full-star realm experts by nature.

Without an unusual planet, collecting Slaughterstones could only be done slowly, over time.

And Wang Jie had another problem.

Ever since learning Sorrowwater Art, he’d been doing his exercises relentlessly. Even so, he’d only managed to turn his third imprint deep black before his calamity materials ran dry.

Those materials hadn’t been a small amount. Deputy Domain Lord Yan’s supply plus Wang Jie’s purchases from Qing Shan Cheng and the Imperial Capital Star had been substantial.

And it still only completed three imprints.

Finishing the remaining seven would require a truly frightening quantity of calamity materials.

Not because they were expensive.

Calamity materials weren’t particularly costly. Even star-breaking realm lockforce cultivators needed them, and the price still didn’t rise much.

The real problem was scarcity.

There simply weren’t that many.

Wang Jie immediately ordered Luo Yan to gather more—Ninth Seal and Ten Seals calamity materials, anything remotely worthwhile. Price didn’t matter. Buy everything.

Luo Yan ran himself ragged, but after several days he reported that the best Ninth Seal and Ten Seals calamity materials from both the Inner Bazaar and the Outer Bazaar had already been purchased. The remainder was too low-grade to be worth Wang Jie’s time.

Wang Jie didn’t want to waste his limited exercise time absorbing that pitiful amount of lockforce.

Still… it wasn’t enough.

Not even close.

So it had to be slow again.

Buying from beyond the sect was an option, but then the cost wasn’t the material—it was shipping.

He didn’t want attention.

Right now, he needed two things: cultivation and money.

Too many things demanded resources—Slaughterstones, the forging path, the formation path, and more.

So Wang Jie spent time in the Outer Bazaar.

The Outer Bazaar was far busier than the Inner Bazaar, gathering Frost Splendor Sect disciples of every level along with all kinds of beings from outside the Frost Splendor Domain.

Wang Jie walked alone, asking about the price of pills that replenished starforce.

His field could strip and condense starforce, letting starforce cultivators replenish their reserves directly. It should sell well—as long as the price was higher than starstones, he could profit.

But this touched the alchemy path.

He didn’t want to sell openly, and he couldn’t use Luo Yan for it either.

He needed a way to hide his identity.

“Brother, you look strong—come learn the forging path with us!”

“Brother, this little girl just arrived, and my storage ring was stolen. Can you spare some contribution points so I can eat?”

“Customer, look over here! Beauties of every kind…”

The street was a riot of voices. Wang Jie looked around with fascination. Non-human beings walked openly through the crowds. He even saw shops selling robots.

Right beside a brothel.

The strange mixture of worlds was dizzying.

Then his gaze snapped forward.

An old crone was trying to cross the road.

Wang Jie stepped in at once, smiling. “Senior, let me help you over.”

The old crone stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Young man, this old woman has legs. I can walk.”

“It’s fine, Senior. I’ll help you.”

“This old woman has no money.”

“I don’t want money.”

“You want my life?”

Wang Jie laughed. “Senior, listen to you. I’m just helping.”

He more or less escorted—borderline dragged—her across the street. When they reached the other side, he let out a satisfied breath, bowed lightly, and said, “Senior, take care.”

Then he walked off, pleased with himself.

The old crone watched him go, utterly confused.

After several days roaming the Outer Bazaar, Wang Jie attended an auction.

One item on the list caught his eye: a mask.

A three-tribulation chen artifact that could alter one’s appearance—so effective that even roaming-star realm experts couldn’t see through it.

More than one person wanted it. Below roaming-star realm, owning that mask was like owning a second identity.

When the mask went up, the price climbed without pause.

In the end, Wang Jie took it for five million starstones.

A three-tribulation chen artifact usually sold for around four million. He’d paid an extra million just to secure it.

If this auction had been advertised longer, the mask might have soared to six million.

A chen artifact’s value wasn’t only its grade—it was its use. And this mask was useful in far too many situations.

The problem was that Wang Jie didn’t have five million starstones on hand.

He had only a bit over two million.

So he handed over the three-tribulation chen artifact earring he’d obtained earlier as collateral. The auction house valued it at three million starstones.

He took a loss, but he had no choice.

All told, he’d effectively lost two million starstones.

But he got the mask.

With the mask on, he entered the Inner Bazaar and went to a pill shop.

“How much are starforce pills?” he asked.

In the Outer Bazaar, he’d already learned the basics. Pills that directly replenished a cultivator’s starforce were generally called starforce pills, but there was no single fixed formula. Different pillmasters produced different variants, and effectiveness varied mostly by absorption speed—the purer the pill, the faster it absorbed.

A single starforce pill was worth roughly five times the same amount of starforce contained in starstones.

Starstones could replenish starforce too, but slowly, and that inefficiency drove the price difference.

But selling to a shop was another matter.

“Starforce pills?” the shopkeeper said flatly. “We purchase at three starstones per pill.”

Wang Jie frowned. “That low? The Outer Bazaar offers three and a half starstones—or three and a half contribution points.”

“Then sell in the Outer Bazaar,” the shopkeeper replied without hesitation. “The Inner Bazaar can’t pay that.”

Wang Jie turned and left.

Half a starstone didn’t sound like much, but if he sold in bulk, the difference was enormous.

The Inner Bazaar catered to Inner Sect disciples and important figures. Those people weren’t short on money, and they trusted the Inner Bazaar’s quality more than the Outer Bazaar’s.

The Inner Bazaar didn’t need to chase profit margins.

Wang Jie returned to the Outer Bazaar and chose a shop: Star Vault Exchange.

It was part of Star Vault Vista’s network. Su Ying Yu had been the shopkeeper of the Silver Radiance Empire’s Star Vault Materials Exchange, and that connection—along with consistently polite service—left Wang Jie with a favorable impression.

He did the math quickly.

If he used eighty thousand starstones to produce eighty thousand starforce pills, then sold them, he could receive two hundred and eighty thousand starstones.

A clean road to wealth.

Wang Jie was already thinking of going back to produce more when the shopkeeper raised a hand.

“If you bring more starforce pills, the price will drop sharply.”

Wang Jie paused. “Why?”

The shopkeeper sighed. “These starforce pills are only suitable for starforce cultivators within the Ten Seals.

“Cultivators at that level don’t have much buying power. Most of them are poor. They can recover with starstones and just spend more time. The ones who truly buy starforce pills are heirs of major families. Those people have fixed supply channels—some even keep pillmasters on retainer.”

He spread his hands. “With this many, the market is nearly saturated. It’ll take us a long time to sell them.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Wang Jie understood immediately.

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

Real profit lay in starforce pills that could restore star-breaking realm cultivators—those people had money and demand.

But Wang Jie couldn’t make that yet.

What he farmed seemed tied to his own realm. Even chen artifacts were limited to one tribulation for now.

Unless he reached star-breaking realm and could condense far more starforce, his current starforce pills were already the limit.

“How many can you still buy?” Wang Jie asked.

“At most, we can pay a one-to-two rate,” the shopkeeper said. “No higher.”

Wang Jie went back anyway.

He produced one million starforce pills and returned with them.

The shopkeeper stared at the pile like it might bite him… then clenched his jaw and bought them—two million starstones, paid on the spot.

But he warned Wang Jie again and again: no more. If Wang Jie had other pills, though, Star Vault Exchange would welcome them.

After Wang Jie left, the shopkeeper went to the exchange’s top floor.

A man sat there, holding a starforce pill up to the light, watching how it refracted through its surface.

“Lord,” the shopkeeper said quietly. “He’s gone.”

The man tossed the pill back. “This pill is extremely pure—at least supreme-grade, four-scent. But I can’t see any refining method. He didn’t make it. He doesn’t feel like a pillmaster.”

His gaze drifted to the window, following the direction Wang Jie had gone. “If he comes again, find a way to recruit him. There must be a powerful pillmaster behind him.”

“Yes.”

Wang Jie returned to Mist Peak by ship.

He now had three hundred and eighty thousand starstones.

Still nowhere near enough for everything he wanted, but it was something.

Now it was time to cultivate.

He’d spent the last stretch of time asking about both money and training paths. In the end, one location stood out as perfect for him:

Rainbow Peak’s Thirteen Bends.

Thirteen Bends was a strange stretch of road on Rainbow Peak. It wasn’t long, but it had thirteen turns, and each turn increased the gravity. It was a natural gravity training ground.

Wang Jie needed gravity—for Sword Steps, for qi, for chen arts. Heavy gravity made everything more efficient.

He chose to train at night.

Rainbow Peak had no lockforce cultivators. If anyone saw him cultivating lockforce, his identity would be exposed instantly.

He didn’t want that.

Even cultivators needed day and night. The Frost Splendor Domain had its own cycle: suns that moved across the sky like a bracelet circling westward, one after another. Their heat countered the domain’s cold, preventing the frost from becoming unbearable and creating a clear boundary between day and night.

The Frost Splendor Domain itself didn’t enforce much, but the Three Peaks did—curfew at night, with only certain people allowed to move freely.

Wang Jie was a Guest Elder. He had that privilege.

When the chain of suns passed beyond the Three Peaks, night fell. Cold flooded the world like a tide.

Wang Jie left Mist Peak, entered Rainbow Peak, and arrived at Thirteen Bends.

Thirteen turns.

The first carried tenfold gravity. The second carried twentyfold. It rose like that, turn after turn. From the twelfth to the thirteenth, gravity jumped from one hundred and twentyfold to one hundred and fiftyfold.

Rumor said that any disciple who could pass Thirteen Bends would be promoted directly to true inheritor.

But almost no one had ever done it.

Because starforce was forbidden within Thirteen Bends.

You had to rely solely on your body.

Wang Jie stepped onto the path, and gravity slammed down.

He walked forward easily.

Anything under one hundredfold gravity did nothing for him.

He strode straight to the tenth turn.

One hundredfold gravity.

Still nothing.

He continued.

Eleventh.

Twelfth.

Then he saw someone ahead.

A man sat cross-legged with his back to Wang Jie, just beyond the twelfth turn—close, but not fully past it.