I Can Only Cultivate In A Game

Minutes into running around, Victor's breaths had turned into gasps.

His robes were in tatters, torn open by the relentless barrage of qi-infused attacks from the serpentine beasts swarming the ridge.

Qi bursts, elemental lashes, and pressure waves had carved through the terrain, and Victor had barely survived with a sliver of his reserves left.

[ Warning: Qi Reserves Is At 3% ]

'Just 3%? I'm doomed!'

Every movement was a drag.

Victor's limbs felt like lead, his breathing was staggered, and even his vision blurred at the edges.

It took everything he had just to keep moving—dodging, weaving, ducking, rolling, leaping. He had no time to think about the Shadow-Eyed Moon Serpent anymore.

He just wanted to live. Especially after the notification he had gotten earlier.

[ Player Cultivation Will Reduce To Peak Foundation Establishment Realm After Death But Will Remain Trapped In The Serpent's Hollow Upon Respawning ]

The ridge had become a death trap.

Thousands upon thousands of serpentine spirit beasts gnashed their fangs and launched themselves toward him.

Their bodies glowed with hues of green, violet, and obsidian and each of them possessed qi techniques of their own—flames, frost, lightning, venom.

And Victor, despite how much he had grown, was still far too weak to face all of them.

One of them with armored scales like an ancient mountain, lashed out with its tail.

Victor didn't even have time to react.

The tail smashed against his chest like a hammer, sending him hurtling through the thick fog toward the very bottom of the ridge. His body tore through sharp rocks and curved stones before slamming into something harder than the rest—a strange wall of sorts embedded into the mountain's base.

The impact cracked it open.

Victor crashed inside what seemed like a narrow hollow.

He coughed blood and rolled onto his side.

[ -750HP ]

Roars erupted behind him. The beasts had seen where he landed and were closing in.

Through blurry vision and trembling hands, he pushed at the chunk of rough stone beside him.

His fingers which were drenched in blood, slipped off once… then twice… until finally, with a desperate groan, he shoved it forward.

The boulder crashed into place, sealing the hole.

Boom!

Something slammed into the outside. The ground shook.

Boom!

Another hit.

Victor collapsed against the stone with blood pouring from his lip.

His back hit the rough wall as his chest heaved.

His Qi reserves was now at 1%.

Any moment now, and he'd collapse.

His hand dropped to the side.

Warm blood pooled beneath his fingers.

With a weak grunt, he summoned the only healing method he had.

He brought his palm to his lips, spat into it, and wiped the saliva across his open wounds. Light blue energy shimmered faintly and began to seal the deeper gashes.

The relief was minor, but enough.

He still had to deal with his dwindling qi reserves.

He clenched his jaw and looked around.

The hollow was barely large enough to stand. The walls were covered in ancient patterns, weathered and dusty. He didn't have time to care. Not now.

Outside, the beasts continued to ram the wall, trying to claw their way in.

However, even if they didn't get in, it wouldn't matter because once his qi reserves were empty, he wouldn't even be able to move.

He closed his eyes. There was only one choice left.

They said cultivating in the Bloodshade Hunting Grounds was impossible. The pressure here suppressed qi flow, made drawing spiritual particles nearly unfeasible.

But if he didn't try…

He would die here.

Victor sat cross-legged in the darkness.

His body trembled violently.

His mind focused inward.

"Come on," he whispered hoarsely. "Come on…"

He initiated the first stage of breathing. The way the system had first taught him.

In… and out.

In… and out.

His dantian was barely responding. The spiritual particles here were sluggish, slow, distorted by the thick oppressive force of the red zone.

He pushed harder.

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

Then suddenly, he visualized the flow of the White Dragon's qi.

He didn't know why... but he did.

The cold, slow, disciplined current of frost… pooled in his mind...

And then he imagined wind.

His wind arts. Always fast, free, elusive.

He merged them.

Frost and wind. Slow and fast. Stillness and flow.

Boom—

A soft thrum resonated through his body.

His core flickered… like a lantern in the dark.

A single wisp of qi entered his body.

Then another.

Victor's breath caught in his throat.

It was working.

His body stopped trembling as violently. His mind grew clearer.

The Bloodshade Hunting Grounds were harsh, yes—but they were also a natural wonder. This place, where beasts reached incredible heights, where legends came to life, was also rich in qi—just incompatible with most.

Victor wasn't like most.

His unique body—enhanced through the legacy of the White Dragon, his cultivation in Ascendant Realms, his mysterious ability to merge real and virtual growth—was different.

He felt it now.

Victor focused harder.

He had never cultivated in a more hostile environment.

But the more hostile it became, the more pressure mounted, the more his body adapted.

Frost layered the ground beneath him. A thin sheen of cold crept up the stone walls. The air around him grew still—then sharp.

He guided the spiritual particles inward.

Another wisp. Then another. Then three at once.

He smiled through his blood coated teeth.

1% became 2%.

2% became 4%.

His qi reserves was starting to recover.

5%.

7%.

9%.

Still slow… but enough.

Enough to survive.

Enough to prepare.

...

...

Hours had passed and Victor remained cross-legged within the serpent's hollow, breathing in slow, steady rhythms.

His qi circulated smoothly through his meridians now—calm and revitalized.

He'd spent the last stretch of hours cultivating nonstop, letting his body recover under the soothing rhythm of Frost combination with his wind.

The sound of muffled thuds and hisses from outside the wall had faded long ago. The serpentine beasts had seemingly grown tired of battering the wall.

But even with that threat receded, the problem remained—he was still trapped.

Thousands upon thousands of beasts likely still prowled the outside, just waiting for him to emerge.

Victor gently shifted the boulder he'd used to seal the gap, just enough to allow a sliver of space to peek through.

A thin shaft of daylight pierced into the hollow, and he leaned forward to peer out.

A wave of serpents slithered across the rocky basin. There were hundreds still—perhaps even thousands—twisting and coiling over one another like a tide of scales and fang.

Some were as thick as small carriages while others were so long that they curved multiple times across the ridge.

Qi infused from their cores gleamed with unsettling colors—greens, violets and black. This place was a den of monsters.

"I hate snakes..."

Victor slowly slid the boulder back into place and leaned against the opposite wall before sighing.

Even if he was back to full strength, it wouldn't matter. If he tried to climb the thousand-foot height of the ridge, he'd be noticed instantly.

Worse, he'd be dead before he could get halfway.

Escape was seemingly impossible.

So he remained still. Waited. Observed.

And that's when he noticed it—patterns.

At certain periods throughout the day, the serpentine horde outside became less aggressive.

They slowed, grew quiet, and many slithered up the walls of the ridge, no doubt in search of prey elsewhere.

During these intervals, the basin wasn't exactly empty, but it thinned considerably.

It wasn't exactly enough for someone to slip through but—if they were very lucky, it wasn't impossible.

Victor stored this information away. It could be his only chance.

The day was slowly coming to and end and soon night arrived.

He repeated the process. Cultivating. Watching. Waiting.

His qi reserves were completely full—100%. But so was the hopelessness creeping into his chest.

---

Tomorrow was the City Lord's daughter's 200th birthday celebration. The whole reason he'd come to this forsaken place in the first place.

But it didn't matter now... there was no way he'd make it out in time.

And even if he did, he didn't have the Mythical Shadow-Eyed Moon Serpent.

With that conclusion, he slumped backward and exhaled.

His back tapped the wall of the hollow. It gave off an oddly hollow sound.

He eyes narrowed.

That didn't sound right.

He tapped it again.

~Thock~

Not entirely solid. Not like stone.

Victor turned around and narrowed his eyes.

"Don't tell me…"