In the days that followed, the Origin Clan began to take shape.

Adrian, Aurelia, and Varik personally vetted each candidate, SSS-ranks with solid records and deep roots in the twenty-three star systems.

They had once been slaves under Drakenholt’s rule, but now, for the first time, they were given identity as clan members.

Their names entered the Node registry as “Origin Clan: Official.”

A new life. A new identity.

Some wept as the mark appeared. Others stood in stunned silence, as if afraid it might vanish.

For some, it was the first time they had been recognized as anything at all.

Adrian stood silently as they bowed. “You were treated as weapons before,” he said, his voice calm yet resonant. “Now, you will become the foundation of knowledge. Your hands will not bring death. They will bring understanding.”

They were taught the Imprint Skill, each guided personally by Septimus and Selena. The process was slow, some failed, others struggled, but a few succeeded, crafting their first spheres with trembling hands.

Varik oversaw the transformation of the old Drakenholt mercenary halls.

Old Drakenholt mercenary halls were gutted, their crimson banners torn down and burned. Their walls were washed, their halls refitted.

Where once contracts for blood and war were etched on rune-slates, now shelves rose, clear glass shelves, gleaming under pure light.

New sigils replaced the old, white-grey, sleek, and sharp, the emblem of Origin.

Within a week, the first Origin Stores were ready.

…

The middle ring of the Solvaris Hub buzzed as their doors opened.

Selena stood behind a sleek obsidian counter, her golden tattoos shimmering faintly as she inspected the final layout.

The shop was nothing like the typical knowledge markets that cluttered the Hub. No flickering holographic catalogs. No runic tablets hidden behind counters.

Instead, glass cases lined the walls, each one holding a softly glowing sphere. Every color sang of its essence, blue for water, red for fire, violet-black for gravity, gold for light, blue-white for lightning, green for life.

Each orb pulsed faintly, alive with potential.

Hovering above every display was a clean projection:

Knowledge Sphere – Basic Galactic Fire Concepts.“Permanently imprints the knowledge of the Basic Galactic Fire Concept into the mind.”

…

Soon, the first customers stepped through the door.

Two young cultivators, whispering to each other.

“Is this one of those new stores under the Origin Clan?”

“The one from the duel? The guy who killed the Drakenholt patriarch?”

The first leaned closer to the hologram and read it aloud, scoffing. “Permanent knowledge? Come on. That’s impossible. What, are they selling dreams now? Even Lexaria can’t make that happen.”

His friend laughed. “Probably some meditation gimmick. Look at the display, looks fancy, but it’s probably trash.”

Then he saw the price. “Thirty… thousand crystals?”

The laughter stopped.

It was lower than low-tier skill books (which were 80–120k), but still significant enough that someone like Draven would need to save a year or two. This makes it “cheap” relative to its value.

And the low-tier skill books just gave some bits of knowledge on that concept, but this claimed complete knowledge of Basic Galactic Concepts.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

The friend frowned. “Low price means cheap trick.”

Selena noticed them, resting an arm on the counter. Her smile was calm, confident. “If it doesn’t work, you’ll get your crystals back. We guarantee it.”

That line hit harder than any pitch. No one offered refunds on knowledge.

The first man hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. One Fire Sphere.”

He transferred the crystals through his node, the transaction glowing briefly on the counter’s surface. Selena lifted the red sphere from its case, its warmth radiating through the glass.

He held the glowing orb, and it dissolved instantly into his forehead.

He staggered back, clutching his head, gasping. The other customers froze, watching.

His friend grabbed his shoulder. “Hey! You alright?”

Then he straightened, eyes blazing. “It’s… it’s real. The knowledge is flooding my mind, and it is not like those written way of skill books!”

His friend blinked. “What?”

“I can feel the concepts, flow, ignition, essence compression, equilibrium. It’s all there. It’s like… the path of ancients, the galaxy’s way of teaching, but clearer. And the concepts are not fading like the skill books.”

The source of his overwhelming sensation lay in the fact that formations remained foreign to most cultivators, many had never witnessed them or grasped their existence.

They relied solely on skill books for learning, while locations rich in concepts, such as nexus gateways, stayed firmly under the major clans, leaving countless cultivators without such profound encounters.

Now, for the first time, this cultivator experienced true conceptual understanding. The sphere functioned like a miniature formation, containing knowledge of a cultivator and his personal experience.

He was now reliving those memories directly, allowing him to perceive and grasp the teachings far more rapidly than through skill books, which conveyed only descriptions through language.

The cultivator raised his hand, and flames danced across his palm with newfound precision. The fire moved like liquid, responding to thoughts he’d never been able to form before.

His friend’s jaw dropped. “You serious?”

He nodded, trembling. “I’ve been stuck at the same fire level for three years. Three years! And now…”

A hush fell across the shop.

Someone’s node blinked to record. Then another.

A woman in expensive robes stepped forward, her eyes calculating. “Show us the technique again.”

The cultivator obliged, weaving fire between his fingers with fluid grace. Where before his flames had been crude and unstable, now they moved with the confidence of ancient masters.

“Impossible,” she breathed.

Within minutes, holo-feeds uploaded the footage. The man’s reaction. His trembling hands. The glowing Origin sigil behind him.

The recordings spread like wildfire across the Galactic Net. Comments flooded in faster than the moderators could track.

“Fake. Has to be.”

“Look at his fire control. That’s not acting.”

“Origin Clan… wasn’t that the one from the arena duel?”

Within moments, the video hit the Galactic Net.

…

Elsewhere, in another Origin Store, Septimus watched a skeptical scholar testing a Lightning Sphere.

“Another miracle cure,” he muttered, hefting the violet sphere. “Thirty thousand crystals for parlor tricks.”

He purchased a sphere, expecting a trick, only to fall silent mid-sentence, sparks crackling from his fingers as comprehension flooded him.

The scholar’s words died in his throat. His eyes widened as electricity danced between his fingers.

He fell to his knees, tears streaking down his face. “This… this knowledge, this comprehension, it would have taken me centuries.“

His voice cracked with disbelief. The other customers pressed closer, nodes already recording.

The scholar’s hands trembled as more lightning responded to his will. “The theoretical frameworks I’ve struggled with for forty years… they’re all clear now.”

Septimus only smiled. “Consider it a gift from the Origin.”

…

Aurelia calmly managed a third store.

The establishment buzzed with nervous energy as word spread through the station corridors. Cultivators pressed against the windows, peering at the glowing spheres within.

A young healer stepped forward, trembling.

Her robes were patched and worn, marking her as one of the countless struggling healers who served the outer rim worlds. Her savings represented months of careful accumulation.

She held a pale-green sphere, Life essence, and asked, voice breaking, “Will this truly… teach me?”

Aurelia studied the girl’s desperate hope. “You’ve lost patients you couldn’t save.”

The healer nodded, fresh tears threatening. “So many. I try, but my knowledge… it’s not enough.”

Aurelia only nodded.

The healer pressed the sphere to her forehead. As it dissolved into her, tears streamed down her face.

Light erupted from her palms as understanding flooded through her consciousness.

The mysteries of cellular regeneration, energy flow patterns, the delicate balance between healing and harm, all crystallized in moments.

She whispered, “It’s… it’s all there. Healing patterns, regeneration flow. I understand it now. I finally understand!”

Her voice rose with wonder. “The patients I lost… I could have saved them. I know how now.”

“Decades… decades of study, sealed into one moment. How… how is this possible?”

Her trembling voice was caught by the node recording too.

Aurelia’s expression softened. “Now you can save the ones who still need you.”

…

Within hours, the words Knowledge Sphere had spread across every channel of the Galactic Net.

Forums exploded with speculation. Even military networks carried whispered discussions.

The holographic displays throughout Solvaris Hub flickered with trending topics, all pointing to the same revolutionary development.

Even the empire of Lexaria saw the surge of mentions.

In the Galactic Net Control Hall of the Lexaria Empire, monitoring technicians watched data streams with growing alarm.

Their carefully maintained knowledge monopoly faced its first real threat in centuries.

“Anyone else hear about these ‘Knowledge Spheres’?”

“I tried one, it works, Lexaria’s monopoly is DONE.”

“Origin Clan’s going to shake the entire structure. Mark my words.”

The comments multiplied faster than automated systems could track them. Emergency protocols activated as Lexarian officials scrambled to assess the threat.

Scholars debated, Traders speculated, Lexarian representatives demanded investigations.

And still, the sales kept rising.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep