The simulation area was quieter compared to the rest of the training center—a large, dimly lit space lined with rows of sleek, metallic pods. These were the hyper-realistic VR pods, each one designed to immerse the user in a world that simulated combat down to the smallest detail. The sensations, the adrenaline, the pain—all of it was real. It was here that the true combat power of a cultivator could be measured, tested against a series of increasingly difficult challenges.
Aurel and Emma approached the row of pods, their footsteps soft on the polished floor, their expressions serious. The excitement from the earlier tests still buzzed between them, but there was a different energy now—a focus, a determination. This trial would be different. It would be personal, something only the participant could see, could feel. It was a test of their individual abilities, of their raw combat instincts.
Emma turned to Aurel, her smile softening. "Guess this is where we part ways for a bit," she said, her voice light, though there was an edge of intensity behind it. "Good luck in there, Aurel. Show them what you're made of."
Aurel grinned, nodding. "You too, Emma. I want to hear all about it when we're done."
Emma gave him a wink, her smile widening, and then she stepped into one of the pods, the door sliding shut with a soft hiss. Aurel watched her for a moment, his heart pounding, and then he turned to his own pod. He took a deep breath, his hand resting on the cool metal, and then he stepped inside, the door closing behind him, sealing him in.
The interior was dark, the seat adjusting to his body as he settled in, the harnesses securing him in place. He closed his eyes, his breath steady, his heart pounding with anticipation. The hum of the machine grew louder, the world around him fading as the VR system activated, the darkness shifting, changing, transforming into something new.
Aurel opened his eyes and found himself standing in a massive arena, the roar of an unseen crowd echoing around him. The ground beneath his feet was rough, the air thick with the scent of earth and steel, the sky above a deep, endless blue. He could feel the weight of his body, the pulse of mana flowing through him—everything felt real, tangible.
He looked around, his eyes narrowing as he took in his surroundings. The arena was empty, save for one other figure—a cultivator standing at the opposite end, their stance relaxed, their eyes locked on him. A notification flashed before Aurel's eyes, the system's voice calm, neutral.
Opponent: Tier 1, Strata 1
Aurel let out a breath, his body relaxing, a smile tugging at his lips. Tier 1, Strata 1. This was the starting point—a baseline opponent to gauge his current power. He could feel his muscles coiling, his senses sharpening, the excitement building within him. He had been waiting for this—a chance to see how far he could push himself.
The fight began with a signal from the system, a sharp beep that cut through the roar of the crowd, and Aurel launched himself forward. The opponent moved to meet him, their stance shifting, their fists raised, but they were no match for Aurel. He moved with a speed and precision that far outclassed them, his Sixth Sense guiding his movements, his attacks landing cleanly, powerfully. Within moments, the fight was over, the opponent crumpling to the ground, the system's voice announcing his victory.
Victory. Advancing to Tier 1, Strata 2.
Aurel straightened, his breath steady, his body buzzing with energy. The arena shimmered, the defeated opponent vanishing, replaced by another cultivator—stronger, faster, their eyes focused, their stance more confident.
Aurel grinned, his heart pounding. He moved again, his body flowing with the same fluidity, the same precision. This opponent was tougher, their strikes more powerful, their defenses more solid, but Aurel adapted. He could feel his Mana Sensitivity guiding him, the flow of energy around him, the subtle shifts in his opponent's mana, the way they telegraphed their movements.
The fight lasted longer, but Aurel emerged victorious, his fist driving into his opponent's chest, the system's voice announcing his win once more.
Victory. Advancing to Tier 1, Strata 3.
The fights continued, each one more challenging, each opponent stronger, faster, more skilled. Aurel felt the strain, felt his body working harder, his mana flowing more intensely. He could feel the way each battle pushed him, the way his senses sharpened, his instincts growing more refined with every clash. His Mana Sensitivity guided him, his Sixth Sense allowing him to read his opponents, to anticipate their moves before they even made them.
Strata 4, then 5, then 6—each fight was a test, a struggle that demanded everything he had. And each time, Aurel won, his body moving with a grace and power that felt almost beyond him, as if his traits were carrying him forward, driving him to victory.
Then came Strata 7.
The opponent that appeared in the arena was different—taller, broader, their aura dark, menacing. Aurel could feel the difference immediately—the weight of their power, the way their presence seemed to fill the space, to push against him. This was a real challenge—someone who matched him in strength, who moved with the same precision, the same speed.
The fight was brutal, intense, their movements blurring, their fists clashing, the sound of their strikes echoing through the arena. Aurel pushed himself, his Armour Penetration trait helping him bypass his opponent's defenses, his Sixth Sense keeping him just one step ahead. But it wasn't enough. The opponent was relentless, their power overwhelming, their strikes landing with a force that made Aurel's entire body shudder.
He fought with everything he had, his mana surging, his focus sharp. The pressure was mounting, the blows coming faster, harder. Aurel could feel his limit approaching, the edges of his vision beginning to blur. He needed something more—something that would tip the scales.
Then he remembered. Limit Break.
Aurel clenched his jaw, focusing his mana inward, activating Limit Break on his Sixth Sense. He could feel the change immediately—a surge of energy, a sharpening of his senses that was almost overwhelming. The world around him seemed to slow, every movement of his opponent coming into sharp focus, the flow of mana, the tension in their muscles—all of it clear, vivid.
The opponent lunged, their fist coming at him like a battering ram, but Aurel saw it—truly saw it. The subtle shift in their stance, the way their mana pulsed just before they moved. He sidestepped, his body flowing like water, the fist missing him by mere inches. He twisted, his arm lashing out, his fist connecting with their ribs, Armour Penetration driving the blow through their defenses.
The opponent staggered, their eyes widening in shock, but Aurel didn't let up. He moved with a speed and precision that felt almost effortless, his body acting on instinct, every strike landing with perfect accuracy. His opponent tried to recover, their aura flaring, but Aurel was already ahead of them, his senses guiding him, his body moving like a well-oiled machine.
He drove his knee into their stomach, his fist following, striking their chest, his mana pouring into every blow. The opponent grunted, their stance faltering, their aura flickering. Aurel could feel the end approaching, the balance tipping in his favor.
But just as he was about to deliver the final blow, his mana supply and stamina began to waver. The cost of Limit Break was taking its toll, his reserves running low, his body beginning to protest. The opponent saw the hesitation, their eyes narrowing, and they lunged, their fist catching Aurel's side.
The impact sent him sprawling, the pain blinding, his vision blurring as he hit the dirt. He gasped, the air driven from his lungs, his body refusing to move.
Defeat. Tier 1, Strata 7 reached.
The system's voice was cold, final. The opponent straightened, their expression unreadable, and then they vanished, the world around Aurel shimmering, fading. He lay there, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body aching, the pain radiating through every muscle, every bone.
He closed his eyes, his head resting against the cold ground, the sound of the crowd fading into silence, the arena dissolving into darkness. He had fought, had pushed himself, had given everything he had. And in the end, he had reached Tier 1, Strata 7. It wasn't perfect, but it was impressive considering that he had only actualized 2 genetic locks.
When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the pod, the harnesses releasing him, the door sliding open. He blinked, the light of the training center flooding his vision, the noise of the students around him bringing him back to reality.
Aurel took a deep breath, pushing himself out of the pod, his legs shaky, his body still feeling the ghost of the pain he had endured in the simulation. His senses slowly adjusted, the buzz of the real world settling around him, the familiar hum of voices, machinery, and life.