The first spring rain had come and gone, leaving behind a battlefield of slick mud and damp earth. The valley smelled of wet grass and fresh soil, but no one paid attention to it. All eyes were fixed on the four figures locked in fierce combat—Ajis and his three opponents.
Their bodies were covered in dirt, their breath heavy, but their resolve was unshaken.
Ajis's muscles ached, his lungs burned, and his arms felt like lead, yet he refused to falter. His opponents were strong—tribe warriors just like him, each wielding the Sixth Claw Technique with lethal precision. They were in the same realm, but Ajis held a slight edge in strength and mastery of the technique.
Claw met claw. First met flesh.
Ajis weaved between his opponents, his instincts razor-sharp, dodging a strike from the left while parrying an incoming blow from the right. His counterattack came swift—his claws raked across one of the hunter's shoulders, sending him stumbling back.
Mud splattered. The fighters slid and staggered, their footing unsure, but not a single one backed down.
Minutes stretched into hours.
Their battle continued through the rain, then through the stillness that followed. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the cold wind bit at their skin, but their blood ran hot with the thrill of combat.
Ajis gritted his teeth. He was exhausted.
The three warriors surrounded him, their bodies just as battered and weary, yet their eyes burned with the same determination as his. Ajis's vision blurred for a moment, his legs felt heavier than ever, but he did not stop.
I won't lose.
His heart pounded. His blood surged. His spirit roared.
Then, amid his fatigue, something broke.
Power exploded from within. His muscles surged with newfound strength. His exhausted limbs suddenly felt lighter, faster, sharper. The barrier of his realm shattered—Intermediate Third Stage of the Gathering Energy realm.
The sudden breakthrough sent a shockwave through his body. His claws felt like extensions of his will, no longer a mere technique but an instinct carved into his very being.
The Sixth Claw was no longer his limit.
The Second Stage of the Claw Technique was opening to him, revealing its mysteries.
Ajis's eyes gleamed with newfound power. He dashed forward, moving faster than before. His claws cut through the air like lightning, striking with such force that the first warrior barely had time to react.
A single, decisive strike sent his opponent crashing into the mud.
The remaining two hesitated. They had felt it—Ajis was no longer the same.
With their bodies trembling from exhaustion and the realization of his new strength, they made their choice.
They surrendered.
A moment of silence passed before the crowd erupted into cheers.
Tribe members roared with excitement, their voices shaking the valley as they celebrated his victory.
Ajis had done it.
A vast golden sea stretched endlessly in all directions. In its center stood a broken altar, its once-pristine surface cracked and weathered. Above it, a throne loomed, carved from an ancient, forgotten stone. A man sat there, motionless, his eyes closed.
Gavin.
He looked like a statue as if time itself had frozen within this world. The stillness was absolute, the silence profound.
Then, without warning, the tranquility shattered.
The altar trembled. A low, resonating buzz rippled through the golden expanse, sending waves outward like a storm had struck the sea. The golden ocean, once endless and eternal, began to deplete, its luster fading as unseen forces clashed.
Gavin's eyes snapped open.
His spiritual world was no longer his alone.
All around him, a silver energy coiled like mist, pressing against the edges of his realm, trying to seep in. It moved with an unnatural intelligence, slithering closer, seeking to invade.
But the altar resisted.
Ancient runes on its broken surface flared to life, pulsing with golden light as they fought back the encroaching energy. Each pulse sent waves of resistance, holding the silver mist at bay.
Gavin's gaze sharpened. What is this energy? Why now?
His spirit surged, and he focused his will on the intruder.
Gavin narrowed his eyes at the silver energy, watching it swirl and pulse as if searching for an opening. He examines it carefully, sensing that its power is par with the runes that are sealing him.
"A Legendary Spell?" he muttered.
But why? Who would waste a legendary spell on him?
His instincts told him not to extend his spirit beyond his spiritual world. If this was a curse, reaching out could invite disaster. Yet, the energy didn't have the oppressive, malevolent nature of a curse spell. Instead, it felt… familiar.
Gavin frowned, resting his chin on his palm, deep in thought.
"Where have I sensed this before?"
The answer hovered just out of reach, teasing the edges of his memory. Then, suddenly—
His eyes widened.
"I remember!"
He shot to his feet, his voice ringing through the silent expanse of his spiritual world.
"This is a calculation spell!"
Realization hit him like a lightning strike. Someone was tracking him.
His mind raced. "But why? Who?"
It couldn't be the ones who sealed him—they already knew where he was. Then who else had reason to search for him?
As he pondered, his gaze shifted to the altar. It was still fighting back against the silver energy, but Gavin could feel the strain—it was draining his spiritual energy at an alarming rate.
If this continued, the altar would run out of power, and the calculation spell would lock onto his location.
"I can't let that happen."
Without hesitation, Gavin merged his spirit with the altar, pouring his will into its defenses. The golden runes flared, their radiance pushing back against the invasive energy.
The silver mist wavered.
Then—it shattered.
The moment it collapsed, Gavin felt the connection sever, the tracking spell forcefully cut off.
But as the golden sea stilled, a lingering unease settled in Gavin's mind—whoever had sent the spell now knew he was resisting.
As he withdrew from the altar, a wave of exhaustion washed over him. His spiritual energy was nearly depleted, leaving a hollow ache deep within his core.
Gavin clenched his fists, feeling a rare pang of frustration.
He had spent countless days absorbing and refining spiritual energy, purifying it into its golden state—and now, in mere moments, much of it was gone.
His spiritual energy resided entirely within his spiritual world, rather than in the mysterious space, because he had merged the two. Normally, only Golden Rank experts could accomplish such a feat. He was still at the Bronze Rank, but in essence—his foundation was already at the Golden Rank.
Gavin exhaled, shifting his thoughts back to the Legendary Calculation Spell that had nearly exposed him.
Such a spell could only be cast by a Legendary expert or a Legendary-rank ritual formation. But why? Why would someone of that level waste such an invaluable resource to track him?
His lack of this body's original memories left him grasping in the dark. If he had access to them, he might have pieced together a reason—but now?
There were no clues. No way to guess.
He scowled.
"When they find me, then I'll know."
For now, he had managed to block the spell, but the caster would still have a general idea of his location.
"A Legendary expert flying through the skies could spot this valley with ease."
It was only a matter of time.
But time was all he needed.
"If I can reach the Silver Rank before they arrive, that would be... gratifying."
A cold gleam flashed in Gavin's eyes. He knew he was no match for a Legendary Realm expert, but that didn't mean he would simply become prey.
If he reached Silver Rank, the tribe would be elevated to a large tribe, drawing the attention of the Eye Council. With their watchful gaze upon him, even a Legendary Realm cultivator would have to think twice before making a move.
Time. That was all he needed.
Before resuming his cultivation, he scanned the valley with his spiritual senses.
Ajis had advanced to the next realm a few hours ago. Gavin gave a slight nod—expected, but still a welcome improvement.
Next, his attention turned to the white rose.
It was night, and Via was not present—without her assistance, the rose's advancement had slowed, but not stopped.
He observed it closely.
The magic energy within the white rose was on the verge of transformation. The three elements—wood, blood, and metal—had completely merged, forming something new.
Curious, Gavin carefully extended his senses, trying to identify the newly formed element.
A strange, toxic hum vibrated within its energy.
His eyes narrowed.
"It feels like... poison."
If Via could fully comprehend this element, her strength would surge again. With mastery, she might even be able to fight opponents one or two realms above her.
Satisfied, Gavin withdrew his attention and sank into deep contemplation—his focus shifting once more toward the rules of spirit.