“Little Brother, what’re you doing in the secret chamber?”


    “An Lang’s whipping up a special pill—big commotion. Outside’d disturb everyone. It’s quieter in there.”


    “Oh.”


    …


    “Little Brother, why’re you ducking into the chamber again?”


    “Got a hunch—need a quiet spot to mull it over. That place fits the bill.”


    “Alright.”


    …


    “Little Brother, what shady stuff are you up to? Days locked in there—doing something sketchy?”


    “Come on, Senior Sister, what mischief could I pull solo in a chamber? Just training hard, that’s all!”


    “You’d better be.”


    …


    For five days after returning from Yunlong City, Han flipped his routine—holed up daily in Taibai Martial Hall’s underground chamber, out of sight, ultra hush-hush. Naturally, Bai Ruoyue noticed, hounding him about what he was sneaking off to do alone in there.


    What else? Playing with his life, obviously!


    The Life-Resting Martial Path didn’t harm his foundation. For others, slashing lifespan might sap vitality and potential—but for Han? Pure fun, no strings attached.


    On the fifth evening, he sat cross-legged in the chamber. Inside him, six lights—each a different hue—flickered, pulsing like a heartbeat, steady and rhythmic. An aura blanketed the space, thick and oppressive, a coiled dragon’s might simmering beneath the surface, waiting for its moment to soar.


    Peering inward, his six organs glowed, radiating their unique elemental vibes—gallbladder, triple burner, bladder, large intestine, small intestine, stomach—all flawless, shimmering with a misty, dreamlike sheen. Their energies linked, forming a perfect cycle, churning divine essence, boosting his body at breakneck speed. With each loop, his true qi grew sharper, its essence climbing.


    No doubt about it—in five days, Han had perfected his final organ, the large intestine, locking the six into a seamless cycle and breaking through to mid-Visceral Realm. That’s what lifespan-burning got him: a leap forward in record time.


    Mastering the last organ wasn’t like the first five—it wasn’t just refining one piece but tying them all together into a flawless loop, a full realm jump. Without Life-Resting, he’d have hit this mark sometime this month, sure—but when? No telling. Forbidden arts were a cut above—only downside was the lifespan cost. For Han? Pocket change.


    With the six organs complete, the perfect cycle felt worlds apart from before. Every facet of his being—strength, speed, you name it—surged in an instant, ballooning his power. Sometimes, a hair’s breadth made all the difference. Perfect versus almost? Night and day. Five organs perfected would crank it up even more—six and five cycles merging into one grand, flawless whole.


    Right now, mid-cycle breakthrough, Han was up to something else. His mind sank into the six organs, sensing them, reaching out. Faintly, six blurry figures—like little people—sat within, hazy and surreal. The gods of the six organs.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    He pushed, coaxing them awake. They twitched, faint replies whispering back. Han didn’t let up, staying the course. Then, their glow dimmed, teetering toward dormancy. An Lang, hovering nearby, sprang into action, popping a pill into his mouth. At that moment, footsteps approached—someone entered, sat across from him, watching closely.


    That unmistakable regal vibe and, uh, standout curves? Bai Ruoyue, no question.


    [Earth-Grade Pill: Six Organs Divine Pill]


    [Briefly links to the six organ gods, granting unique powers. For rare prodigies, a slim chance to permanently awaken their spirits.]


    A prized Earth-grade pill he’d hoarded! He had a Five Organs version too, but that’d wait.


    The pill melted on contact, six vibrant streams flooding his body, slamming into his organs. Their divine light flared, blindingly bright. “Yuan Jun…” A chant echoed from within—inaudible to Bai Ruoyue and An Lang—but six glowing figures projected outward.


    “So this is the six organ gods?” Bai Ruoyue murmured to herself.


    Han had seized this perfect-cycle moment to awaken them—and hadn’t forgotten Bai Ruoyue, deep in the same quest. Post-breakthrough, he’d told An Lang to fetch her once he took the pill, letting her observe and spark her own insights.


    She was a pro at this organ-god game—deeper than Han. During her month of dream-proving, she’d downed god pills like candy, staying “god-awake” near-constantly—hundreds of them. Han couldn’t match that; he’d only hit Visceral Realm in the dream’s final days. Still, he was confident now.


    Above his six organs, six little figures sat—naked, male, faces mirroring his, eyes shut. Tiny halos, each tied to their element, glowed behind their heads. Chanting grew clearer within, yet muffled, like it hummed from another plane. Han poured his mind and will into them, probing their divine essence, tracing their origins.


    The organs’ light swelled, gulping cosmic energy like a bottomless pit—elevating their tier, perfect atop perfect. Roots deepened, potential swelled, his very life force evolving. God-tier boost!


    Bai Ruoyue watched, transfixed, revelations blooming as she tied it to her own past, banishing fog with fresh clarity.


    Time ticked on. The gods’ light peaked, their forms sharpening—teetering on stepping out into reality. Legend said high-tier cultivators could push organ gods to manifest as guardian avatars, fighting alongside them. Just a tale—like the gods themselves—rarely seen awakened at Visceral Realm. Today, that myth might turn real.


    Then—the chants froze, the light locked. Epiphany hit Han like a thunderclap; his mind yanked back. In a void-like space, a psychic voice boomed, rattling his core: “Not waking now? When, then? Wake up! Rise! Now!”


    It echoed inward—no mortal ears caught it—but in the gods’ realm, it roared like thunder, impossible to ignore.


    Snap! Six pairs of eyes flicked open, gleaming with wisdom—piercing, pure, radiant. “God! God… God!” Six shouts rang out, overlapping, chanting “God” in unison. Threads spun from each, linking them—six gods, one heart. Divine light cascaded, cloaking the organs, shielding their true forms. Six gods guard six organs!


    Cosmic energy calmed, but faint trickles—purer than the norm—kept flowing in: essence of vitality. It forged through the organs, then rose to feed the gods, fattening their power. A perk of awakened organ gods—self-sustaining essence absorption, no effort from Han.


    The organs themselves transformed at awakening—alive with divine sparks, no longer mere flesh. Temples for gods. After a while, the light settled, but the gods stayed perched, reciting cryptic chants—blessings, prayers, or cheers?


    Han peered inward. With a thought, the gods sank back into their organs, nesting in their “divine domains.” Dormant yet awake—hazy, hidden from the world, a perfect secret. Thanks to Dream-Proving, Creation Pot, a final drop from Great Thousand Immortal Tree, and his relentless grind, the six organ gods were his—permanently.


    Looking back, the grind hit hard. He’d asked Lu Qingmo—no pills for organ-god insight existed, she’d said. Add his cheat devices? Insane prerequisites. Smooth as it looked, the setup was brutal—unique to him and his crew.


    He opened his eyes—and flinched back. Bai Ruoyue’s face was inches away, wide eyes boring into him.


    “Little Brother, this is why you’ve been sneaking off to the chamber for days?”


    He froze, then nodded. “You nailed it, Senior Sister—just meditating on the six organ gods. Nothing shady—great spot for it.”


    Your excuse rocks—mine now.