Adrian searched further for information related to the Mana Sea, fingers moving across the UNI-OS interface. The command deck remained silent around him, the others watching the projection as it flickered through countless forum threads.

Before long, he came across a forum post titled ‘The Boundless Mana Body Art.’ The title alone sent a ripple of curiosity through him. He opened it immediately, and everyone around him followed along as the projection expanded, absorbing the information together.

The post began with a piece of history.

Billions of years ago, a Great Sect known as the Primordial Mana Sect released the Boundless Mana Body Art. This sect held a singular and extreme belief: Mana was supreme.

They believed that everything in existence was ultimately formed from mana. Every concept, every essence, every rule that governed reality was powered by mana. Even authority itself required mana to enforce it. Without mana, concepts were inert, and authority was meaningless. So from this perspective, mana stood above all concepts and rules.

Driven by this belief, the Primordial Mana Sect spent countless years researching mana itself. The culmination of that research was the Boundless Mana Body Art.

In the universe, there existed many types of body arts. Each body art was a unique body cultivation method focused on refining the body in a specific way. Some enhanced strength, others resilience, regeneration, or adaptability. And as long as they were compatible, cultivators could practice multiple body arts simultaneously.

The Boundless Mana Body Art focused on one thing alone: expanding a cultivator’s mana reserves to an extreme degree, allowing them to hold amounts of energy that would otherwise be impossible.

This body art was divided into multiple tiers, and the very first tier was Mana Sea.

Adrian felt his pulse quicken despite himself.

The explanation was surprisingly straightforward.

Under normal circumstances, when a cultivator reached SSS-rank and liquefied their mana, they formed what this sect described as a Liquid Mana Lake within their body. This lake remained largely unchanged throughout one’s cultivation journey, expanding only when new concepts were comprehended.

Liquid Mana Lake! This term was new to them, but they can understand it.

“This matches what we’ve experienced,” Selena said.

They continued reading.

The first tier of the Boundless Mana Body Art taught a method to fundamentally change this structure.

By using Willforce, a cultivator could shatter their internal mana lake and forcibly expand it into a sub-dimensional space within their body. Once this transformation was complete, the ‘lake’ would become a ‘sea’. The increase in capacity was not a simple doubling or tripling. Instead, it became vast, limited only by how much the cultivator could expand that internal sub-space.

“Shatter it?” Lysandra’s voice carried alarm. “That sounds—”

“Dangerous,” Selena finished. “And we don’t even know how to manipulate our Willforce in the first place.”

Adrian read the next section with growing understanding, his Source Eyes activating unconsciously to parse the underlying principles described.

The willforce was only required to create the sub-dimensional structure initially. Afterward, expansion followed a brutal but effective method. The cultivator would need to deliberately overfill their Mana Sea using High-Grade Mana Crystals until the pressure threatened to collapse or rupture the sub-space entirely. At that point, Willforce was used to hold the structure together while the sub-space stretched under the strain. The description compared the process to inflating a balloon until it was on the verge of bursting, holding it there, and waiting for the material to stretch instead of tearing.

The pain was described as excruciating, but by repeating this process, the cultivator’s Mana Sea would continue to grow.

Silence descended over the command deck. Even those who had endured centuries in the Edge Structures, who had faced death countless times, looked disturbed by the casual description of agony.

“No wonder they call it body cultivation,” Lysandra said grimly. “You’re not just training. You’re remaking yourself.”

Reading this stunned everyone, including Adrian. This discovery overturned a long-held assumption they all had.

He stared at the projection, his mind racing through implications. His own mana reserves had always been tied to conceptual comprehension.

Adrian himself had comprehended hundreds of concepts at a basic galactic level and more than thirty at an advanced galactic level, resulting in an enormous mana capacity. Aside from the Demon Emperor, no one he had encountered possessed comparable reserves. Yet this body art suggested that a cultivator could eventually match or even surpass Adrian’s mana capacity without comprehending additional concepts at all, simply through cultivation and resources.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“This changes everything,” Elara whispered, “We thought mana growth was limited by talent.”

“It is still limited,” Lysandra corrected, though her voice carried wonder. “But by resources and time, not comprehension alone.”

This shattered the long-standing belief that mana growth depended solely on conceptual comprehension.

Adrian read further and discovered that the Mana Sea also had a passive growth method. While actively stretching the sub-space using High-Grade Mana Crystals was the fastest approach, passive cultivation was also possible. By simply absorbing ambient mana over millions of years, a cultivator’s Mana Sea would naturally expand.

Thomas leaned against the console, his expression thoughtful. “If someone lived long enough, trained long enough…”

“They could match a genius through persistence alone,” Sentinel finished.

If a cultivator lived long enough, even without active methods, their mana reserves would grow to staggering levels. Longevity alone could translate into immense power.

And this was only the first tier.

Adrian’s hand moved before conscious thought, scrolling down to reveal what lay beyond Mana Sea.

The Boundless Mana Body Art extended far beyond Mana Sea.

When Adrian attempted to scroll further to view the next tiers, the interface displayed a restriction notice.

› Information restricted. Upgrade UNI-Authority for access.

“Of course,” Draven muttered. “Can’t let the mortals see the good stuff.”

But despite this, excitement spread through the ship. Unlike Adrian, the others could not rely on rapid conceptual comprehension to increase their mana reserves. Even with the knowledge spheres, it would take time, and so mana had always been a limiting factor for them. Now, they had discovered a method that allowed growth independent of talent, given enough time and resources.

While the others focused on this revelation, Adrian’s thoughts drifted elsewhere.

The ideology of the Primordial Mana Sect lingered in his mind. They believed mana was supreme because everything relied on it, even concepts themselves.

That belief unsettled Adrian, because even the Source required mana to function. So if mana could power the Source, the origin of everything, then what exactly was mana?

He stared at the projection without seeing it, his mind turning over this question like a puzzle with missing pieces. The Source was meant to be the origin, the foundation beneath all concepts. Yet it consumed mana to manifest. Which meant mana existed before the Source, or alongside it, or perhaps it was something he could not understand now.

He had always treated mana as something that simply existed, an unquestioned constant of reality. It was there, powering everything, and he had never stopped to ask why it existed or what it truly was beyond energy.

Yet now, for the first time, he began to doubt that assumption.

Selena and Lysandra were thinking the same as Adrian. They didn’t know about the source, but their thoughts were similar to his. Selena said, “We don’t even actually understand mana itself!”

“Yes,” Adrian met her gaze. “We can’t even tell what mana is, beyond describing what it does?”

Adrian turned to the viewport, “We’ve built everything on a foundation we don’t understand.”

The more Adrian learned, the more he realized how little he truly understood. What he had grasped so far was nothing more than a drop in an endless ocean.

Max yawned from where he’d sprawled across three chairs, “So we’re idiots. Great! Can we be idiots with bigger mana reserves?”

Despite the tension, scattered laughter rippled through the group.

“He’s not wrong,” Draven said, smirking. “Philosophy won’t help if we run out of juice mid-fight.”

Adrian allowed himself a faint smile. They were right, in their own way. Pursuing perfect understanding could wait. Survival came first.

He could perceive that there were many mysteries upon mysteries, and he had only just begun to glimpse their depth. Rather than discouraging him, this realization ignited excitement.

His Source Seed pulsed within him, responding to his thoughts. Countless concepts swirled in their separate chambers, each one a question he’d answered. But beneath them all, mana flowed, powering everything. And he had no idea what it truly was.

Seeing Adrian smile, Selena shook her head, “Only you would be excited about discovering your ignorance.”

Adrian didn’t reply. For now, the Mana Sea alone could solve his most pressing problem, his limited energy reserves. It also made him thankful that he had not acted recklessly against the pirates earlier. If they, too, had cultivated a Mana Sea, their mana reserves might have rivaled or even surpassed his, and a direct confrontation could have ended disastrously.

The thought sobered him. His Source Domain granted absolute authority, but authority meant nothing without the energy to enforce it.

“Uncle Adrian?” Aerin’s voice cut his thoughts, “Are you going to get a Mana Sea?”

“Eventually.” He met the child’s curious gaze, “Once I understand the process.”

“Can I get one too?”

Aurelia’s grip tightened, “You’re still too young, Aerin.”

“So?” Aerin crossed her arms, mimicking Adrian’s earlier posture with uncanny accuracy. “Uncle Adrian was young when he started.”

“Uncle Adrian,” Sentinel said dryly, “is a terrible example for children.”

Refocusing on the projection, Adrian discovered that the Boundless Mana Body Art could be purchased at a UNI-Hub, meaning it was accessible without joining a sect.

That single fact gave Adrian a clear path forward. Even without committing to any sect, he could still grow significantly stronger.

He didn’t need the Void Sect’s help. Didn’t need to join a Minor Sect in Andromeda. The universe itself provided tools for those willing to seek them. All he required was time, resources, and the will to endure whatever pain came with transformation.

He searched further for other universally common cultivation knowledge, but either none existed, or they remained beyond the access granted by his current UNI-Authority.

The interface returned blank results for body cultivation beyond the Mana Sea. Searches for Willforce manipulation techniques yielded only sect advertisements. Authority Techniques remained locked behind Commercial-tier access. Even basic cultivation manuals required payment or membership.

“They’ve monetized everything,” Selena muttered, “Knowledge itself is currency.”

By this point, they were only five days away from the Andromeda Galaxy.

The projection displayed their trajectory, a thin line stretching across the void toward a spiral of light that grew larger with each passing hour.

The journey continued quietly as everyone spent the remaining time reading forum threads on sect politics, power dynamics, and regional structures, preparing themselves so that when they arrived at the Andromeda galaxy, they would not be stepping blindly into the unknown.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep