Chapter 63 The Trials of Illusion

Chapter 63: The Trials of Illusion

Wang Hao’s confidence surged to its peak. Setting aside the tactical insights on Foundation Establishment, he focused entirely on his cultivation. He was determined to expand his dantian to its absolute limit while still in the Qi Refining stage. Whether the Qi was gaseous or liquid, a larger vessel meant greater potential.

Many cultivators grew impatient, believing a minor deficit in capacity wouldn't hinder their breakthrough. They abandoned the tedious expansion process, unaware that this "small gap" would widen exponentially with every new realm.

This was particularly dangerous for those with high-grade Spiritual Roots. Their Qi was naturally more refined, exerting higher pressure within the dantian. This made them reach the breakthrough threshold much faster than those with multi-elemental roots. Tempted by quick progress, they often advanced prematurely, only to find their combat power severely lacking in the later stages of their journey.

In the early steps of the Great Dao, talent and Spiritual Roots were paramount. However, once a cultivator reached the Golden Core stage, even a Heavenly Spiritual Root offered no guarantee of success. To reach the Nascent Soul stage, one required more than talent; they needed destiny and ironclad patience.

A year passed in secluded meditation. Wang Hao finally pushed his dantian to its absolute limit, reaching a capacity of 1,281 units. With such a vast reserve, he could manifest 256 Fireball spells in succession. Only then did he deem himself ready for Foundation Establishment.

Upon hearing the news, Wang Yanzhao’s expression turned grave.

"Since you are prepared, I will not coddle you with words," he said. "Remember only this: strengthen your Dao heart, and know that to overreach is as disastrous as falling short."

Wang Hao nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of the warning.

Wang Yanzhao gave his shoulder a heavy, supportive pat. With a sharp flick of his fingers, he formed a hand seal. A low rumble echoed through the residence as the heavy stone door to the finest cultivation chamber on Ruojun Mountain swung open.

He handed Wang Hao an array disk. "Use this to activate the soundproofing wards. Do not touch the other arrays."

Wang Hao understood immediately. Wang Yanzhao intended to stand guard personally. If the breakthrough went awry, the elder would be there to intervene at a moment's notice.

"Don't worry, Uncle," Wang Hao smiled. "Luck has always been on my side."

Wang Yanzhao opened his mouth to speak but sighed instead. He remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the stone door long after it had sealed.

Inside the chamber, Wang Hao sat cross-legged upon a meditation cushion. His eyes burned with a steady, unwavering light.

He did not rush. Instead, he mentally reviewed every detail of the Foundation Establishment process once more. He scrutinized every key point until he was certain nothing was missed. Only then did he close his eyes to enter a state of deep calm.

Three days later, when his mind and body reached their absolute zenith, Wang Hao began the breakthrough.

The illusions arrived almost instantly, exactly as the Wang family ancestors had described. Visions born of his past experiences swirled around him—temptations of power, threats of death, and deceptive guides. They whispered that cultivation was a dream, a lie, and that his efforts were futile.

Wang Hao remained unmoved. He anchored his soul to his original intent, enduring the mental onslaught with grim persistence.

Just as he felt the trial of the divine sense was concluding, a new illusion manifested. This one was far more vivid. It did not draw from his life in this world, but from his previous one.

He saw his former boss, his parents, old classmates, and the woman he had once admired from afar. Modern skyscrapers, bustling traffic, and flickering screens surrounded him—the things he had missed most in his heart of hearts.

He felt the familiar crush of a morning bus. He saw the company security guard and the receptionist’s smile. He sat in his old office under the cold gaze of his superior, eating the bland, salty food of the company cafeteria. It felt undeniably real.

Late-night barbecues, gaming marathons with friends, and dreams of his "goddess" nearly ensnared his consciousness.

Voices urged him from all sides: "Wang Hao, wake up! Focus on your work. There’s no such thing as immortals. It’s all just stories and web novels. None of it is real!"

Wang Hao paused. He looked at the woman he had once loved. In his past life, she wouldn't have spared him a glance, yet here she spoke with a voice like honey.

"It’s a lie," he whispered.

The realization shattered the dream. He tore himself away from the false comfort of the past.

As each layer of the illusion broke, his divine sense surged. Having lived two lives, his trial was far more grueling than that of an ordinary cultivator, but the rewards were proportional.

When he finally pushed away the fading figures of his parents and stepped out of the final mental quagmire, he felt his divine sense had expanded fivefold.

According to Wang Yanzhao’s notes, a typical cultivator only saw a 1.5-times increase. Even Wang Yanzhao, an alchemist with a naturally stronger soul, had only achieved a twofold growth.

Wang Hao’s foundation was already monstrous due to his use of Gathering Spirit Pills and the Splitting Spirit Awl technique. This fivefold increase placed his mental strength far beyond his peers, rivaling that of a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator. If he continued at this pace, his Splitting Spirit Awl would become an unstoppable force.

He tested his perception. His divine sense now swept across a radius of five hundred zhang—a massive leap from the hundred-zhang limit of his Qi Refining days.

Outside the chamber, Wang Yanzhao’s brow furrowed. Ten days had passed.

"Ten days just to clear the trial of the mind? That is twice as long as normal," he muttered, his worry deepening. Yet he stayed his hand, knowing that interference now would be fatal. Everything rested on Wang Hao's will.

Inside, Wang Hao prepared for the next phase: refining his Qi.

He produced two jade vials. One contained a Foundation Establishment Pill, the other a Meridian Protection Pill. He swallowed the latter first. It dissolved into countless cooling currents that wrapped around his meridians like a protective silk, bracing them for the coming storm.

Then, he took the Foundation Establishment Pill. It was the size of a longan fruit, emitting a dense, heady aroma.

He placed it on his tongue. It melted instantly, turning into a warm current that permeated his limbs.

Unlike other medicines, the Foundation Establishment Pill released its energy gradually, much like a time-release drug. The process was too intense to be completed in a single burst. The raw power of a Condensing Origin Fruit could restore the reserves of a Core Formation master; if its energy were unleashed all at once inside a Qi Refiner, they would simply explode.

This was why Lan Mu had failed in the canyon, and why even the powerful Li Derong had not dared to consume the raw fruit.

Despite the "gradual" design, the medicinal energy became violent within fifteen minutes. A ball of fire ignited in Wang Hao's dantian. His limbs turned deathly cold—a sensory paradox caused by the extreme internal heat.

The "flames" began to crawl through his meridians, scorching his very being.

Wang Hao gasped, his features contorting. He forced himself to breathe, guiding the molten energy through his cultivation technique. The pill was working, tempering his dantian and meridians for the final condensation of True Essence.

He had underestimated the agony. As his meridians finished their strengthening, a sudden, stabbing pain erupted in his dantian, as if thousands of needles were piercing him from the inside out.

Wang Hao let out a low, guttural groan. His face turned ashen, and beads of sweat poured down his temples as he fought to remain conscious through the pain.