If you had told me that even cultivating—which is practically the kind of magic I've dreamed about for as long as I can remember—could sometimes be as boring as filing taxes at the end of the fiscal year, I would have told you to ease off on the anime. Because you're spouting the kind of embarrassing nonsense only a teenager "with a dark power concealed in one of his arms" could pull off.But you wouldn't have been wrong. After trying to ride the high from my earlier success with the inscription of those rings, and my brief—though unfortunate—turn to megalomania, I came back down to reality. Like any high, what followed was the tedious and dull practice that is "cultivation."Chalk it up to my severely lacking work ethic, but after completing the fourth major cycle—24 very monotonous minor cycles—that means I've been at this for over... two hours, apparently. It's strange because that's the kind of time I'd willingly lose to any of my hobbies. Weirdly, when I was inscribing those rings or even earlier when refining them, I didn't feel nearly as bored as I do now.With a defeated sigh, I got up and stretched my aching legs. Do I even need to be sitting like that to meditate? Can't I just do it on the couch? Belatedly, I realize I've never even tried. With a groan and more than a couple of concerning popping sounds from my knees, I made my way to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water and figure out why this is so astoundingly boring.I pulled a glass from the counter and picked up the filtered pitcher. As I began to slowly pour, I became entranced by the glass filling up, the water gurgling gently. I squinted in confusion, tilting my head to one side—like a dog suddenly confronted by something beyond comprehension.Even as the glass overflowed, spilling onto the counter, my only reaction was to part my lips, trying to voice the words dancing on the tip of my tongue. It wasn't until the pitcher was completely empty, and I stood there frozen in the pouring motion, that I noticed the pool of water edging off the counter, trickling onto the floor with a soft pat, pat.I closed my eyes and subconsciously tilted my ear toward the floor, listening to the gentle patter of water droplets onto the cheap linoleum. Even as the drops burst into infinitesimally smaller particles, forming a mist invisible to the naked eye, I stood there, the faint wisps of an idea tormenting me. I patiently tried to piece together the puzzle set before me, feeling the knowledge fading, destined to be lost. But then, the final piece clicked into place.That's when it hit me—I smiled as I lifted the overfilled glass, careless as water spilled over the edges onto the counter and floor. Of course. How could I possibly be satisfied with cultivating when I didn't even have a goal to cultivate toward?Beyond the abstract concept of "strength," I needed milestones, markers to show progress. How infuriating would a road trip be if you didn't know how far you'd traveled or how much further you had left? Of course I was bored and frustrated. What do all cultivation novels have in common, and what was I sorely lacking?A cultivation system.Major realms, minor realms, half-step this, peak of the fourth realm that. I needed a way to track my cultivation, a system to gauge my strength, especially in relation to everyone else. The words and terms didn't matter; I just needed a structured approach. My RPG-polluted little mind needed an XP bar.Chugging the glass of water and ignoring the mess I'd made, I walked back into the living room, shoving the coffee table aside to make room before plopping onto my worn-out couch. I didn't need to overthink this. I had a repertoire of made-up-sounding nonsense floating around in my head already.There was some consensus among the broader genre, but it varied greatly between stories. Who cares? This was just for my own benefit. If I learned the "real terms" later on, I could adjust. Just like I called my dantian my "core" and qi "mana," this was about giving me goalposts.Here's how it'll work: Nine major realms, each with nine minor realms. The first three minor realms would be the beginning stage, the middle three the middle stage, and the last three the late stage.As for the major realm names? No point getting ahead of myself. I'll name the first three: The first realm is the Gathering Stage—where it all begins, gathering mana. After that is the Condensation Realm—if mana in its base form is like air, then in this stage, you condense it into a liquid, increasing your strength by an entire "realm." I couldn't help but smile at my own terrible pun.For the third realm, I'll call it the Crystallization Realm. Beyond condensing, you shape the mana into solid constructs. This will be the turning point, the zenith of the first three realms, before taking a qualitative leap to a middle-stage cultivator.Now that I'd named those first three stages, I had a clear goal to cultivate toward. More than just signposts, I knew what I wanted my mana to do at each stage of growth. Somehow, I'd spoken truth into existence.As soon as those words left my mouth, I felt weightless, freed from the mundane burdens of this world. A feeling of euphoria surged through me as I ascended, breaking through to the very first major realm.I didn't need anyone to tell me what this was. Instinctively, I knew. I had broken through to the first realm: Stage 1 of the Gathering Realm. If the average human was a level 0 cultivator, forever bound by human limits, I had officially stepped into the world of cultivation—as a Realm 1, Stage 1 Gathering cultivator.And gather I did. Taking advantage of the momentum, I drew mana into my body at a rate that completely dwarfed what I had done previously. I cranked up my focus, solidifying the foundation of my breakthrough, even without fully understanding it.One thing was for sure—thinking back to that mysterious old man at the flea market. If I was going to build a tower, slow and steady wins the race. I didn't want to become a living reenactment of that haphazard tower of keychains he had warned me about.Subconsciously, I had already begun drawing inspiration from the sturdy tower he built in my mind as I continued solidifying my foundation. That old man was definitely not simple. Even now, I don't fully understand why, but the more I studied that tower in my mind, the more I realized there was something indescribably profound about it.With so much focus on carefully stabilizing my cultivation, afraid any lack of care could lead to a very tragic end. I didn't realize until much later in the night, that even on the couch I had already subconsciously pulled up my legs into that same uncomfortable classic meditation pose.