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Seemingly without a care in the world, the man who donned a demon mask glanced at the gathered children once before speaking.
"Congratulations, little ones. You have achieved the first step in a long, long journey toward power," he announced, his voice calm yet carrying an unmistakable weight that made the air feel heavier.
The man paused, his silence allowing the significance of his words to sink in. However, as he observed the puzzled expressions on some of their faces, a faint smile crept onto his handsome features, hidden behind the intricately crafted mask. His tone shifted, adopting a subtle warmth.
"Do not be discouraged. Although some of you may have received lower-ranked talents, every single one of them is unique and powerful in its own right. After all, how could something created from the essence of your very existence be weak? Take me, for example. My talent is an F-rank ability called Dreamer. That's how I earned my name."
His words elicited audible gasps from the children. F-rank talents were often dismissed as insignificant, nearly worthless. Yet here was a man standing—or rather floating—several meters above the ground. Flying was a skill typically reserved for those with B-rank talents or higher.
"How did someone with an F-rank talent manage to ascend so high in the cultivation hierarchy?" they wondered in unison, their expressions a mix of astonishment and skepticism.
The man chuckled, his voice deep and resonant. "To answer the question you're all silently asking, let me say a few things. First and foremost, hard work. If you push yourself to master your talent beyond its perceived limits, you can rival—perhaps even surpass—those with higher-ranked abilities. For example, an F-rank talent wielded with skill and determination can easily stand toe-to-toe with a D-rank talent of the same cultivation stage.
"But that's just the beginning. If you refine your talent enough, it will evolve, morphing into something far more powerful. And let's not even get started on cultivation talent—something entirely separate from the rank of your ability. It's rare, but there are A-rank talent holders forever stuck at the F-rank of awakening, while F-rank talent holders have climbed to B-rank and beyond."
His words sent a ripple through the group. The lower-ranked talent holders visibly brightened, their faces illuminated by hope. The higher-ranked children, however, frowned, their egos bruised by the implication that their innate gifts didn't guarantee superiority.
"Cultivation talent isn't bound by the limitations of your natural ability," he continued. "It's about perseverance, insight, and the will to grow. Some people control raw mana better than they control their talents. And then there are those like me, who use their talents as a foundation—a conduit for energy.
"My talent, Dreamer, allows me complete control over my dreams while I sleep. I've learned to cultivate, fight, and even relax in my sleep. But it doesn't end there. I've developed the ability to project my dreams into reality through a pseudo-domain—a product of my refined energy control."
The children stared in awe, their expressions ranging from admiration to envy. The man's calm demeanor and apparent mastery over his humble talent defied everything they had been taught about the rigid hierarchy of abilities.
Asmodeus, one of the children standing near the back of the group, watched the scene with narrowed eyes. Unlike the others, his mind wasn't overwhelmed by inspiration or jealousy. Instead, he focused on the unspoken truths hidden between the man's words.
"Hard work alone isn't enough," Asmodeus thought. "There are conditions—sacrifices—that must be made to climb so high with an F-rank talent. What are you hiding, Dreamer?"
Asmodeus's lips curled into a small, knowing smile. He was no stranger to the harsh realities of this world. Born with a peculiar dragon bloodline and the mysterious Purity talent, he understood that power always came at a cost. His goal wasn't to seek a flawless path to strength but to embrace the chaos that came with it.
"It doesn't matter whether my talent is deemed low-ranked or my cultivation talent considered inadequate," he mused. "My purpose remains unchanged: to witness the epitome of corruption. Even if it costs my life, my soul, or my freedom, I will reach my destination."
Ever since he had awakened his dragon bloodline, Asmodeus's ambitions had shifted. He no longer sought to wield corruption without its destructive side effects. Now, he desired to witness its ultimate form, even if he couldn't achieve it himself. If necessary, he would pass his will onto someone else—a successor who could carry his vision to its conclusion.
As for his sanity? The fragile thing was protected by his years of enduring the endless pain when he was the monstrosity, his weird soul, his dragon bloodline, and most importantly his Talent: Purity.
A shiver ran down the spine of the child standing next to Asmodeus as he caught a glimpse of the smile playing on his lips. "He's definitely not planning anything good," the boy thought, inching away from him cautiously.
The man in the demon mask observed the reactions of the children closely. He noted the hopeful expressions of the lower-tier talent holders and the dissatisfaction of the higher-ranked ones. But it was the subtle smirk on Asmodeus's face that caught his attention.
"Interesting," the man thought. "That boy isn't just listening. He's analyzing."
The silence stretched as the masked man descended slowly, his feet touching the ground with an effortless grace. He folded his arms behind his back, his presence commanding yet strangely approachable.
"Remember," he said, his voice cutting through the stillness. "Your talent is a tool, not a prison. Master it, evolve it, and wield it as an extension of your will. But above all, remember that power is meaningless without purpose. Find yours, and cling to it, no matter what obstacles stand in your way."
The children nodded, their hearts stirred by his words. Even the skeptics among them couldn't deny the truth in what he said. Purpose. Determination. Mastery. These were the keys to transcending the boundaries of their talents.