Ten hours passed before Adrian slowly opened his eyes.

During those ten hours, he had remained seated in the same cross-legged position. The Crimson Will Lotus still nearby, its petals faintly luminous in the dense mana of the Azure Garden. The moss beneath him had compressed slightly from his weight, forming a shallow depression.

Now, as his awareness fully surfaced, he immediately sensed the difference.

There was no lingering fog within his mind, no dull strain pressing against the edges of his consciousness, and no residual turbulence within his thoughts, no fragmented sensation that made focus difficult.

His willforce had completely recovered.

Adrian exhaled slowly and raised one hand, flexing his fingers. His mind responded instantly, without the usual delay that accompanied exhaustion. He could feel the clarity radiating through his entire being.

Only then did he begin properly analyzing the spell’s effects.

Previously, he could only feel that recovery had accelerated. The sensation had been obvious enough, fractured consciousness mending faster than usual, scattered fragments pulling together more quickly. But he’d lacked the mental clarity to measure it precisely.

Now, with full clarity restored, he could measure it accurately. The spell had increased his willforce recovery speed to more than twice his natural rate. Before creating this method, he required nearly twenty-four hours to fully recover from heavy strain. Now, he had returned to peak clarity in merely ten hours.

And this was only a low-level divine spell. If he refined it further, elevated it to mid-level or even high-level, how much could his recovery rate increase? Could it be reduced to five hours? Two? Even less?

Adrian smiled faintly, satisfied with what he had created. Now his thoughts shifted toward monetization.

After careful consideration, only one viable path seemed immediately feasible. He could package this method as a portable formation, similar to those commonly sold across the universe. Many sects specialized in formations, selling portable formation tokens alongside divine essence crystals that acted as power sources. Customers purchased the token once, then repeatedly bought crystals to power it.

If Adrian pursued this path, the initial sale of the formation devices would generate significant income. However, the true long-term revenue would come from selling the divine essence crystals required to power them.

However, he felt incomplete satisfaction with this idea. A portable formation required setup. In a battle situation, a cultivator could not simply withdraw a formation token, deploy it, insert divine essence crystals, and activate it while under pressure. It was impractical in active combat. Such formations were useful only when one had already retreated to safety or had sufficient time to prepare.

This limitation troubled him. Even if monetization were set aside, he wanted a solution that his own people could use seamlessly. A method that functioned anytime, anywhere. Something that didn’t require them to stop fighting, retreat, and spend precious seconds deploying equipment.

He considered alternative ideas.

Tattoo-based inscription using Origin Ink was not viable. One required at least minimal comprehension of the underlying concept to use it. Adrian himself did not know which arcane concept these recovery rules belonged to. Without that knowledge, teaching others to use it independently was nearly impossible.

He briefly considered creating skill scrolls infused with the spell structure. However, such scrolls would burn upon activation and function as single-use items. That did not meet his requirement for a permanent, reusable solution.

Minutes passed. Then an hour. His mind cycled through possibilities, discarded them, revisited them from different angles. Nothing fit the requirements he’d set.

After prolonged thought yielded nothing new, Adrian decided to shift focus temporarily. As a sect elder, he had responsibilities. He had already spent considerable time on personal research. It was time to fulfill his commitments.

For the next several hours, Adrian began mass-producing Knowledge Spheres.

Each sphere contained the complete knowledge required to comprehend the Verdant Genesis divine concept. He embedded arcane concept foundations, structural understanding, and layered explanations. He also created low-level and mid-level divine spell structures for Verdant Genesis, simplifying the path for disciples.

Creating high-level divine spells from scratch was far more complex. Fortunately, he already possessed a high-level divine spell, the one he’d reverse-engineered from the Azure Garden’s formation. By carefully reducing its complexity and removing advanced structural layers, he gradually degraded it into stable mid-level and low-level versions.

Additionally, Adrian embedded the imprint concept and its corresponding spell within each Knowledge Sphere, ensuring that recipients would also gain the ability to create and distribute knowledge efficiently.

With this, the sect could teach itself, perpetuating growth without relying on him.

Even at his speed, he could produce only a few spheres every few seconds. The process was mentally demanding and consumed mana steadily. Each sphere required precise construction.

Despite the strain, he continued without interruption.

After ten hours of continuous effort, Adrian finally created thirty thousand Knowledge Spheres. He stored them all within the spatial ring Hestia had given him.

Adrian exhaled slowly. His mana reserves had dropped to roughly sixty percent. Not critically low, but noticeable. More importantly, his mind felt strained again, not exhausted, but definitely fatigued.

During this process, he discovered another advantage of the willforce recovery spell. The spell’s passive duration lasted approximately twenty hours. Because he had cast it earlier, its effect continued even after his initial recovery was complete.

As he worked and strained his mind again, the passive recovery effect continuously offset part of the depletion. Although it could not fully match the rate at which he consumed willforce during intense activity, it significantly slowed the rate of exhaustion.

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Without this passive spell, he would have been completely drained by the end of the ten-hour production session. His consciousness would have fragmented again, forcing him to stop and rest.

Instead, he still retained mental clarity.

As he reflected on this, his UNI-OS vibrated faintly against his wrist.

Adrian retrieved it and glanced at the projection. The message was from Sect Leader Hestia, summoning him to the Crimson Spire immediately.

He dismissed the interface and looked around the Azure Garden one last time. The massive tree swayed gently. The Crimson Will Lotus floated undisturbed. The ambient mana pressed against his skin, warm and dense.

He stood from his cross-legged position and stretched slowly, working the stiffness from his muscles. With a flick of essence, he cast a teleportation spell.

Space folded and a portal opened before him, edges shimmering with voilet light.

He stepped through.

…

He materialized at the Crimson Spire entrance.

Adrian walked forward, crossing toward the entrance. Two disciples bowed as he passed. He acknowledged them with a brief nod and stepped inside.

Using the internal lift, he ascended to the uppermost chamber.

Seconds later, the platform slowed and halted smoothly at the top floor. The chamber doors recognized his mana signature and parted smoothly, revealing the chamber beyond.

Inside, Hestia stood at the center of the chamber, as though she had been waiting.

She faced the wide viewport that overlooked the sect’s sprawling territory. Her hands were clasped loosely behind her back, her posture relaxed but attentive. She did not turn immediately as Adrian entered, though he knew she had sensed his arrival the moment the doors opened.

After a second, Hestia finally turned to face him. She studied him briefly before speaking, “Any update on the Knowledge Spheres?”

Adrian stopped a few paces from her, meeting her eyes calmly, “I have completed thirty thousand Knowledge Spheres,” he replied.

Hestia’s expression remained composed, but a subtle flicker of approval appeared in her eyes. “That is faster than I expected.”

“Distribution can begin immediately,” he replied.

Hestia nodded, her approval deepening. “Caelum will coordinate allocation to the outer and inner disciples first. We will proceed with controlled distribution and monitor progression rates.”

She paused, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer. Then she continued, her tone shifting slightly. “I did not summon you for this. There is another matter.”

Adrian’s gaze sharpened slightly, “What is it?”

Hestia extended her hand. A holographic projection expanded behind her, layered with data streams, charts, and fluctuating numerical indicators. Numbers scrolled rapidly across the interface, updating in real time. Trade routes, resource allocations, disciple growth metrics, and financial projections filled the screen.

At the center of the display hovered a bold number: 54 Points

Adrian required no explanation. Since upgrading to Commercial UNI-Authority, his UNI-OS had unlocked additional systems. One of them was the UNI-Market Index, a Universe-level evaluation platform that assessed sect economic influence, trade activity, resource liquidity, disciple growth rates, and strategic stability.

Although the full system operated universe-wide, Adrian’s access was currently limited to galaxy-level listings within Andromeda.

He had reviewed the Crimson Vital Sect’s index value before joining. At that time, it had been hovering in the low thirties. A precarious position for any sect, indicating financial strain and political vulnerability.

Hestia spoke calmly, “Before my recovery, our index value had fallen below thirty.”

Adrian nodded. Minor sects in that range were often lesser minor sects and mostly absorbed by larger organizations.

“After news of my recovery spread, our value rose rapidly. It stabilized at fifty-four.”

The projection shifted, showing a sharp upward spike followed by flattening stabilization. The graph displayed the recent surge in confidence, market activity increasing as word spread that the sect leader had returned to full strength.

“But it has not moved beyond that,” Hestia said quietly.

Adrian studied the data carefully. Fifty-four was actually good for a lesser minor sect. It indicated stable leadership, functional infrastructure, and sufficient resources to maintain operations. But it was far from upper minor classification.

Index values above eighty typically signified upper minor status. The gap between fifty-four and eighty was not merely power. It represented disciple population, infrastructure scale, stable trade networks, resource liquidity, and political reliability.

The Crimson Vital Sect still lacked even a galactic network, which reflected economic weakness despite Hestia’s strength. Their disciple count had been decimated during the war. Their storefronts across Andromeda had closed or been seized by rivals. Their trade agreements had collapsed when their sect leader was wounded.

Rebuilding all of that would take time.

Hestia continued, “We have resumed trade negotiations with neutral minor sects, and we are expanding storefronts across Andromeda. The Azure Garden allows us to produce more refined and stronger pills. These measures are raising our value. But they will take decades.”

Adrian did not disagree. Market trust accumulated slowly. A sect could not simply declare itself powerful and expect the galaxy to believe it. Reputation had to be earned through consistent performance, reliable trade, and visible strength.

“So you want acceleration,” he said.

“Yes.”

“How?”

Hestia’s lips curved faintly, “By introducing you to the galaxy.”

The projection shifted again, displaying the insignia of the Thousand Veils Sect. Their index hovered at eighty-eight points. Below it, detailed metrics appeared: disciple count exceeding two million, trade networks spanning many star systems, and other sects within andromeda galaxy.

“I am currently in trade discussions with the Thousand Veils Sect,” Hestia said. “They are an upper minor sect and highly influential within Andromeda.”

Adrian understood immediately. “If I appear publicly as an elder of the Crimson Vital Sect, the perception of our power changes.”

Hestia inclined her head. “The galaxy already knows I have recovered and that stabilized us. But if it becomes known that we possess not one, but two Peak Rule Stage beings—”

“Market confidence shifts,” Adrian finished.

A sect with two Peak Rule Stage cultivators was no longer merely recovering. It was ascending. Even if disciple numbers were still rebuilding, perception would move first. And within the UNI-Market Index, perception directly affected valuation.

Power attracted resources, resources attracted disciples, and disciples attracted influence. The cycle reinforced itself.

“Revealing another Peak Rule Stage cultivator would likely push our index beyond seventy immediately,” Hestia said. “With Azure Garden production and expanded trade agreements, eighty would follow.”

“And at eighty,” Adrian replied, “classification changes.”

“Yes.”

The Crimson Vital Sect was not formally recognized as an upper minor sect, even with Hestia being a peak rule stage being. Their recent war losses and low disciples count prevented that. But a second Peak Rule Stage being changed narrative momentum.

Suddenly, the sect was not a wounded organization clinging to survival. It was a rising power with formidable leadership and untapped potential.

Adrian folded his arms loosely, “You want me to attend negotiations with the Thousand Veils Sect as the Crimson Vital Sect’s representative?”

“I want you to stand beside me publicly,” Hestia corrected. “And allow the galaxy to reassess us.”

This was not about the negotiation itself. It was about the message.

Adrian remained silent briefly, considering the implications. Then he said, “You realize that revealing my strength will place us on the radar of other upper minor sects.”

“We are already on their radar,” Hestia replied calmly. “We were simply considered weak.”

Silence settled between them.

Adrian’s gaze drifted briefly to the viewport behind her. Beyond the glass, the sect’s territory stretched out beneath the twin suns. Disciples moved through the districts, their lives resuming after years of war and uncertainty.

Hestia had already proven herself trustworthy. She had prioritized her disciples over personal gain. She had accepted his help without demanding control over him. She had given him freedom to act as he saw fit.

Now, she was asking him to support her publicly.

“What would you require of me during the negotiation?” Adrian asked.

“Nothing aggressive,” Hestia answered. “Your presence is sufficient.”

She stepped closer, her crimson robes shifting faintly with the movement. Her gaze held his steadily, “Show them that the Crimson Vital Sect is no longer rebuilding.”

She paused, her voice dropping slightly, “We are rising.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep