My Mother is the Villain

Victor stepped out of his room only to find his mother sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, gazing at a bottle containing a black pill.

Emma stood behind her, gently massaging her shoulders.

With his cultivation, Victor could sense a faint trace of his grandfather’s aura lingering in the air.

He had likely just left.

If that was the case, the pill inside the bottle probably came from him.

Victor grew slightly uneasy. The pill was now in his mother’s hands.

The woman gestured for him to approach.

"You seem to enjoy fooling around," she said with a faint smile.

Victor didn’t know how to respond.

She was most likely referring to what he had done at the Heavenly Lightning Sect.

"Do you know your weakness, Victor?" she asked.

He shook his head, a bad premonition rising in his chest.

"Your life has been too easy," she said calmly.

"You need to suffer at the beginning of your path."

Victor’s eyes widened.

The pill inside the bottle had already appeared in his mouth and slid down his throat.

"Until you become a Sage, you are not allowed to eat, nor will you see light again. Keep absorbing Spiritual Energy so you grow and do not die."

She appeared beside him and grabbed his hand.

In the next instant, the scenery changed.

Victor found himself inside a cramped space—so low he couldn’t stand, only sit.

His arms were pinned tightly to his sides. The air was thin; even a single breath required effort.

He began to tremble.

Moments later, cold sweat poured down his body.

An overwhelming discomfort flooded him—restlessness, boundless frustration, thoughts jamming into a dead end.

That woman was insane.

And it seemed she intended to drive him insane as well.

Victor regretted returning, but this had clearly been her plan all along.

Until he became a Sage... two or three years might not even be enough.

Just reaching the Lord Realm required ten thousand Spiritual Energy.

And from Lord to Sage—

It didn’t merely require one hundred thousand Spiritual Energy. He also had to create his own technique.

Perhaps Earth- and Sky-Class techniques were easier to create. But to maintain a solid cultivation foundation, at minimum it had to be Saint-Class. That was considered the best a Lord could produce.

In the future, a Saint-Class technique could be upgraded into a Heaven-Class one—his strongest technique.

In other words, what he needed to create was a Saint-Class technique.

Accumulating enough Spiritual Energy to reach the Sage Realm could likely be done within a year.

Creating the technique—that was the difficult part.

But right now, none of that mattered.

He first had to strengthen his resolve, form another strand of Will Power to neutralize the Misery Pill’s effects.

Without that, he couldn’t think clearly.

Even absorbing Spiritual Energy wouldn’t be easy.

He clawed at his hair, overwhelmed by stress.

"Margaret, you damned bitch!" he roared, unable to suppress his fury.

He even hoped she could hear him.

BANG! BANG!

He slammed his fists against the walls—walls made of solid iron.

Instead of relief, the metallic echoes only intensified his frustration.

DING!

DING!

DING!

(Host unstable. Strengthen your resolve. Strengthen your resolve!)

The System’s voice rang repeatedly in his mind.

His eyes cleared for a brief moment.

Strengthen his resolve.

That was what he needed to focus on—continuously reinforcing it until a new Will Power was formed.

He forced down the suffocating discomfort.

On Earth, he had known frustration, anxiety, panic. But this pill magnified everything to another level.

It was worse than drugs—yet its effect was the opposite.

If drugs felt like this, even the most addicted person would quit.

Victor gritted his teeth and continued absorbing Spiritual Energy.

He could not waste time.

Once he reached the Lord Realm, everything would become easier.

Occasionally, he still screamed, cursing Margaret with words that grew increasingly vulgar over time.

He couldn’t stop, even as the System kept reminding him.

Time passed.

One year.

His hair grew long, and his body seemed to grow as well—the narrow space feeling increasingly suffocating.

He had broken past the Xiantian Realm and become a Lord.

But the dreadful sensations remained.

Something was forming within him.

He could feel it.

Will Power.

He had formed a second Will Power.

Yet somehow, the pill’s effects had not vanished.

Was the dosage too high? Was one additional Will Power not enough?

Victor could only curse Margaret again and continue strengthening his resolve.

His absorption of Spiritual Energy accelerated.

Less than a year later, it was complete.

[Realm: Lord]

[Spiritual Energy: 100,000/100,000]

[Spiritual Energy Accumulation: 114,000]

[Body Realm: Lord]

[Soul: Mortal]

[Physique:]

Diamond Skeleton (Heaven Talent)

[Lifespan: 900 Years]

[Will Power: 2]

His lifespan had increased to nine hundred years.

Yet despite his Spiritual Energy being full, he still couldn’t break through to the Sage Realm.

He needed a self-created technique.

Could he attempt it now?

His gaze fell on his clenched fist.

Though he couldn’t see it in the darkness, he could feel it—a fist filled with boundless rage.

He made his decision.

Fist of Wrath.

That would be the technique.

He would pour his fury into his fist.

Rumble—

The fist began to vibrate, responding to his anger.

Sometimes, techniques could indeed be created like this—

by relying purely on emotion.