Eli awoke at the break of dawn and made his way to the Gambrinus tree. To his surprise, the spot beneath the tree was already occupied. It was the ponytailed girl he had encountered the day before, now engaged in the practice of Advanced arts. . The old man stood behind the tree and watched over the girl's practice. From time to time, he would stop the girl to offer some advice and guidance.
The sharp-eyed young man was sitting inside of a black Turbo-like vehicle, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings with a great measure of vigilance.
Wasn't that the same group of strangers he had met yesterday morning?
Unable to contain his curiosity, Eli approached the group. The old man graced him a glance and then returned his attention to the girl next to him.
Eli had been too rushed the previous day to truly observe her, but now, as he watched, he was taken aback.
She was more than her striking visage and resilient physique; her every motion exuded a heroic essence. A simple gesture was a triumph, her roundhouse kicks, a stern decree to foes unseen.
Yet, it wasn't her physical prowess that astounded Eli—it was the purple arcane energy he perceived within her. "Undoubtedly a Mutant," Chen Fan mused, unsurprised, for most mutants possessed the wealth to acquire such power.
Eli's newfound ability, a gift of his advanced arts training, allowed him to discern the arcane energy in mutants, signified by a spectrum of hues—red, orange, green, cyan, purple, white—each denoting the strength of their Arcane core, from levels one to six. Moreover, he could gauge the vitality through a similar chromatic scale—green, dark green, light Brown, Brown, dark brown. Most astonishingly, he possessed the power to hypnotize, though exercising such skills publicly would incite fear; as it turns his eyes crimson. The efficacy of these abilities hinged on animosity and willpower, or on parity of level, for Eli could only hypnotize those who matched his own stage of mastery.
As Chen Fan's scrutiny lingered, he noted the girl's distinctive attire and the old man's traditional Tylon arts garb. The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.
"Could this be the fabled C-rank 'Tylon Advanced arts'?" he pondered.
After Eli's curiosities were satisfied, he gathered himself and continued watching the girl's practice.
From time to time, he would shake his head disapprovingly.
The girl had noticed Eli's criticism, and it didn't sit well with her. She paused and asked hotly, "What are you staring at? Do you even understand what this is?"
"Eli chuckled inwardly. His mind teemed with the foundational intricacies of the Crimson Paradise Advanced Arts while just at the initial stage. With this knowledge, he could easily spot the flaws in other combat techniques—flaws he could exploit with his unique footwork, aptly named 'Blood moon footwork.' The Tylon Advanced Arts, in particular, seemed riddled with gaps as wide as craters, especially at the intiation level.
Yet, Eli had no desire for confrontation or idle chatter. He offered an apology with ease, "I must confess, your maneuvers elude me. Forgive my distraction; my headshake was but a reflection of my own musings."
"Then take your leave and cease your gawking—" Atlas's retort was abruptly silenced by the elder's command, "Atlas, that's enough."
"Understood, Grandfather," Atlas replied. though not without sending a scorching look Eli's way before returning to her elder's side.
Eli's gaze lingered on the old man, noting the Purple arcane energy that enveloped him. It bore a deeper hue, akin to twilight purple—a testament to his progression in the advanced arts at least peak Initial stage. A Level 5 mutant, he wielded power far surpassing the girl's though also a level 5 mutant, despite her prodigious ascent to the same rank at such a young age.
Eli surmised that the elder's might could match a Level 6 mutant in the introductory stage of their advanced arts. For the moment, his strength eclipsed Eli's own. Simultaneously, Eli observed that the girl's arcane core showed signs of recent initiation into the advanced arts but not yet at the intrudoctory stage . The taxing nature of most C-rank advanced arts demanded gradual mastery for optimal results, given their strenuous demands on the practitioner's physique.
Nevertheless, you ought to be aware that even the rudimentary C-rank advanced arts command a price of 500 million credits.
B-rank advanced arts are the purview of high-ranking government officials, while A-rank arts are reserved for those transcendent beings who have shattered the human threshold—Overlords.
Realizing that there was nothing else to see, Eli found another gambrinus tree, sat cross-legged underneath it and started to absolve the world's energy through his pores something he learnt after reaching the intial stage of Crimson paradise, it was something he does cause he enjoys the warm feeling in his body.
Eli's strange actions aroused the elderly man's suspicion. He wondered why anyone would wake up this early in the morning, leave their house, and only to fall asleep again under a tree?
"Huh?" After a while, the old man suddenly gasped in surprise.
"What's going on, Grandpa?" Atlas asked curiously.
"Look at him carefully, did you see that?." The old man's face hardened.
"See what?" Atlas squinted her eyes and failed to see anything extraordinary.
"Pay attention to his breathing." The old man pressed on.
It wasn't until then that Atlas noticed that the boy's chest swell up and down at each breath. It was as if his lunges were two blowers. There were two wisps of crimson light spurting out of his nostrils, and they writhed and turned like snakes. The two rays of Crimson lights were about the size of a needle, and one wouldn't notice them without looking very hard.
"What is that?" Atlas frowned.
"This is a very advanced method of harnessing internal energy. It is said that only those who learnt some ancient advanced arts could harness energy like that. This kind of breathing required extremely powerful lungs. The practitioner of this technique is able to dive under the water for a really long time." The old man said slowly. "I didn't expect that I could see such advanced arts in my lifetime. Gosh! he is so young, too; it's incredible."
Atlas snorted, "He is just breathing heavily. It's not like he can kill people with his big lungs, Grandpa. It's overrated."
"You are too young too simple, sometimes naive. " The old man refuted with a loving voice. "No one could have done that without a few decades of practicing advanced arts. I have never seen this technique used in real life, but only heard of it in legends it was one of the advanced art we stole from the alien race_Sihr "
"Is it really that powerful?" Suspicion flashed across Atlas's face.
The Sihr are humanity's second most formidable nemesis, just behind the Arcturians. They are a race of purple-skinned humanoids with star-like eyes, purple and white hair, and freckles. Living in the harsh climates of their planet, they possess a strong sense of honor and loyalty. Their strength is judged by the number and color of their horns.
Sihran bore the visage of ethereal beauty: cyan skin aglow, golden locks cascading, their bodies adorned with luminescent tattoos of gold. The number of spikes adorning their hands—a symbol of their might—matched the human mutant scale, yet their prowess extended far beyond. Masters of advanced arts both lethal and unpredictable, the Sihrans can conjure weapons formed from the very essence of cyan energy, a mystery yet unsolved by human intellect.
Their ability to vanish from sight once caused chaos across the human realm. However, as humanity evolved, acquiring abilities and crafting devices to counteract invisibility, the Sihr's advantage waned.
Despite possessing technology that traverses the stars, the Sihr's combat doctrine refrain from distant warfare. Their ships, devoid of armaments, reflected a culture steeped in honor, preferring the intimacy of combat.
A covert faction of human scholars and warriors, known as the "Aether Infiltrators," dedicated their lives to studying the Sihr. They observed from the shadows, learning the patterns of Sihr patrols and the rhythms of their daily life, when the Sihr's powers waned momentarily the Infiltrators made their move.
Disguised as Sihr using advanced holographic technology, they infiltrated the heart of a Sihr enclave. There, they discovered the "Cyan Codex," an ancient tome containing the secrets of Sihr advanced arts. With deft hands and swifter minds, they transcribed the codex's essence onto crystalline data slates.
The escape was fraught with peril, as the Sihr's senses were keen to deception. Yet, through a blend of human tenacity and technological prowess, only one Aether Infiltrator returned to humanity's fold, their mission a resounding success_ A.N Insterion
The stolen techniques were diluted and disseminated among humanity's elite warriors, turning the tide in countless battles to come. It was this act that sowed the seeds for humanity's eventual stand against the Sihr, marking a pivotal moment in their shared history while the undiluted advanced arts vanished, obviously stolen by a professional Infiltrator from Sihr or a traitor.
Graham Adukug II, Sihran leader with twelve spikes, once engaged in a titanic clash with the then nascent Overlord General Carter—a conflict that ceased only with a treaty, as the Sihrans losses mounted against an empowered humanity. Now, after fourteen years of silence, whispers of their return and speculation of a vengeful resurgence still resides inside the heart of humanity.
Atlas revelation seemed to awaken a memory. "Wait," she pondered aloud, "if he is as bad-ass as you claim, then his disapproval of my practice…" Her voice trailed off, a realization dawning within.