Chapter 437: Chapter 437 Theatre
Riley spent the entire day and night cultivating, unmoving as a stone statue.
Time lost all meaning as his blood boiled in silent tides and his body was tempered to an astonishing degree.
When dawn finally broke and pale light seeped through the cracks of the room, he slowly opened his eyes.
They were clear. Bright.
Not a trace of exhaustion could be found within them.
Instead, his body hummed with boundless vitality, every muscle and bone brimming with suppressed power.
Riley exhaled a long breath, feeling the stability of his foundation, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
He had succeeded.
His improvisation—bold, reckless, and utterly heretical by the standards of this world—had borne fruit.
In truth, there had never been much doubt.
Through the mysterious connection to his true body, Riley had been able to experiment without restraint.
Failed circulation paths, collapsed meridians, shattered cores—such risks meant nothing to him there.
He could try again and again, refining the method until perfection itself bowed its head.
Compared to that, the limitations of this alien realm felt laughable.
Still, even success carried its own pressure.
"Sigh... there’s yet much more to do," Riley muttered quietly.
He rose from his seated position, and the floor beneath him creaked faintly as his weight shifted—his body now far denser than before.
A glance at his arms revealed a faint, almost imperceptible bronze sheen beneath his skin, as though something ancient and savage slumbered within.
Riley moved to bathe.
The moment water touched his body, thick black filth began to seep from his pores, spreading through the tub in oily strands.
The stench was sharp and oppressive, evidence of the impurities that had plagued his physique for years.
These were not ordinary contaminants, but deep-rooted flaws embedded in flesh, blood, and bone—now forcibly expelled through the brutal refinement of his transformation.
By the time he finished, the water had turned pitch-black.
When Riley stepped out, steam curled around him as if reluctant to part.
His body felt incomparably lighter, yet sturdier than ever before.
Each breath drew in the surrounding energy naturally, without effort, as though the world itself was being dragged toward him.
This was only the First Realm.
Yet even so, Riley could already feel it—the subtle resistance in the air, the faint sense of rejection, as if something unseen had taken notice of him.
The moment he stepped into the First Realm of the Desolate Great Ape Transformation, he had crossed an invisible line.
From this point onward, he was no longer cultivating under the tolerance of the heavens.
He was walking a path that defied the Mandates of Heaven itself.
"It’s just that this technique has many... peculiar changes," Riley said, shaking his head lightly.
As he spoke, his gaze drifted behind him.
Where moments ago an ancient, feral presence had lingered, a long ape’s tail swayed lazily in the air—thick, powerful, and filled with explosive strength.
With a mere thought, Riley willed it away.
Flesh rippled, bones shifted soundlessly, and in the span of a single breath, the tail vanished as though it had never existed.
His body returned to that of an ordinary mortal.
At least, on the surface.
Riley changed his clothes, carefully suppressing every trace of aura before stepping out.
When he joined his family for breakfast, the atmosphere was warm and lively, just as it had always been.
Laughter filled the room, bowls clinked softly, and the morning sunlight spilled across the table.
Everything seemed perfectly normal.
To everyone else.
No one noticed anything amiss. Not a fluctuation of energy, not a hint of abnormality.
Riley ate calmly, chatted casually, and behaved exactly as he always had.
But the same could not be said for Valery.
The moment Riley entered the room, her chopsticks froze midair.
Her eyes widened visibly—for the briefest two breaths—before she forcibly composed herself.
To anyone watching, it would have looked like nothing more than momentary surprise.
Yet inside, Valery’s heart was pounding.
Something was wrong.
No... something had changed.
She could not pinpoint it at first. Riley’s aura felt faint, almost nonexistent, but that was precisely what unsettled her.
Breakfast continued.
They ate happily, spoke idly, and soon moved on to their usual morning training.
The courtyard rang with the familiar sounds of movement and exertion as everyone warmed up.
Dale and Francis quickly gathered around Valery, eyes bright with excitement.
"Valery, is my thrust correct?" Dale asked eagerly, adjusting his stance.
"Sis, how about this one?" Francis followed up, mimicking a sweeping strike. "Was it like this?"
Their enthusiasm was infectious.
Everyone knew how strong Valery was—after all, she had defeated their father Riley in sparring just yesterday.
To them, she was both an idol and a teacher.
Valery smiled and humored her siblings, correcting their footing, guiding their movements, and answering their endless questions with patience.
Her instructions were clear and precise, every motion demonstrated with effortless mastery.
Yet even as she taught, her attention was divided.
From time to time, her eyes flicked toward Riley.
She observed the way he stood, the way he breathed, the way his weight subtly shifted with each step.
Every glance made her heart tighten.
Each time, she discovered something new.
His posture was more stable. His center of gravity was unnervingly perfect.
Even when standing still, it felt as though he could explode into motion at any moment—like a dormant beast pretending to sleep.
And yet...
There was no aura. No obvious cultivation fluctuation. Nothing she could clearly point to.
That was what shocked her the most.
This isn’t concealment, Valery thought, her expression steady even as her mind raced.
It’s as if his body itself has changed.
For the first time, uncertainty crept into her heart.
Whatever Riley had done—
It was far beyond what she had expected.
An hour later, the morning training finally came to an end.
Sweat clung to the air, and the courtyard gradually emptied as everyone went about their routines.
Valery, however, remained where she was for a brief moment, her gaze lingering on Riley’s retreating figure.
This was her chance.
She followed him without delay, and the two soon returned to Riley’s study.
The moment the door closed behind them, the atmosphere subtly shifted.
Valery turned to face her father, no longer able to suppress the turmoil in her heart.
"How did you do it, Father?" Valery demanded, her voice trembling despite her effort to remain calm.
"You achieved the First Realm of the technique I gave you in just one day. That’s absolutely impossible."
Her eyes shone sharply as she stared at him, searching for even the smallest crack in his expression.
Riley paused, then let out a slow sigh, as if equally confused by the situation himself.
"I don’t know, Valery," he said honestly—at least in tone. "I only felt that the technique could be improved. I followed my intuition, adjusted a few things here and there... and then it just happened."
He shook his head with a faint, helpless smile. "After that, I felt incredibly strong. Even now, I couldn’t tell you exactly how I did it."
A perfect lie—woven with just enough truth to make it convincing.
"..."
Valery fell silent.
She closed her eyes and extended her divine sense once more, carefully and thoroughly inspecting Riley’s body.
His flesh, his meridians, his spirit, even the faint ripples of his soul—she examined them all with painstaking care.
There were no foreign imprints, no traces of possession, no lingering aura of an evil cultivator hiding within him.
Nothing.
Her father was still her father.
When she finally withdrew her divine sense, her brows furrowed slightly.
This result only deepened her confusion.
One by one, countless possibilities surfaced in her mind, only to be dismissed moments later.
Secret inheritances, hidden bloodlines, ancient artifacts—each explanation seemed plausible, yet none fully fit.
In the end, one thought rose above the rest.
Perhaps... he was just like her.
A cultivator who had once died.
An immortal who had failed, fallen, and somehow seized another chance at life—re-entering the endless cycle of reincarnation with memories, instincts, or fragments of past enlightenment intact.
Valery’s eyes softened imperceptibly.
Such a thing was rare, but not impossible.
In fact, she could name more than a dozen methods capable of achieving such a miracle.
Compared to those, Riley’s sudden breakthrough no longer seemed so absurd.
If that were truly the case...
Then her father was no longer merely her father.
He was a peer walking the same road once more.
Valery said nothing further.
She simply nodded, accepting his explanation on the surface, even as her heart continued to churn with unanswered questions.
Valery did not give up so easily and continued to investigate.
After withdrawing her divine sense from Riley’s body, she shifted her focus—not to the man himself, but to the traces left behind by the technique he had been practicing.
Faint imprints of circulating energy still lingered in the study, subtle yet unmistakable to someone of her level.
She closed her eyes and began to analyze them.
At first, her brows knit together in confusion.
This... wasn’t the technique she had taught him.
The core structure was familiar—the foundation unmistakably belonged to the Desolate Great Ape Transformation—but the circulation paths, the rhythm of energy flow, even the intent behind the refinement had all been altered.
No, rewritten was a better word.
Riley had taken what she gave him and twisted it into something entirely different, something far more aggressive and profound.
Valery’s expression turned serious.
She reconstructed the technique in her mind, layer by layer, following the altered paths Riley had carved.
Time passed quietly. Five minutes later, her eyes snapped open.
A sharp breath escaped her lips.
She had found it.
Hidden deep within the second realm’s transition point was a fatal flaw—one so subtle that even most immortals would overlook it.
The energy density required at that stage would surge uncontrollably, placing unbearable strain on the cultivator’s flesh and soul.
At best, it would cripple one’s cultivation permanently. At worst...
Complete annihilation.
Valery’s face paled.
"Father," she said gravely, her voice uncharacteristically tense. "You must stop cultivating this technique immediately."
Riley looked up at her, calm and attentive.
"If you continue and attempt to break into the second realm using this version of the technique," Valery continued, her tone turning solemn, "the repercussions will be disastrous. Your body will not be able to withstand it. Your soul may fracture. This path—this path leads only to ruin."
She stared at him intently, as though trying to burn her warning into his very bones.
This was not advice.
It was a life-or-death warning.
Yet what Valery did not expect—what she was completely unprepared for—was the expression that appeared on Riley’s face in response.
There was no fear.
No hesitation.
Instead, Riley smiled.
A calm, knowing smile that made Valery’s heart sink for reasons she could not immediately understand.
And then, he replied.
"I know."
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