Minami, along with the other masters, quietly observes Master Kanoru as he remains motionless in the stillness of enlightenment.

Time drifts by, and with no sign of Kanoru waking, one by one, the others begin to leave.

Everyone present is human, most of them cultivators of the Spiritual Way, and even the few Samurai among them are those without beast blood.

The majority of the spiritualists are immersed in their own research, racing against time, because even though lifespan increases with major breakthroughs, time remains limited.

Most cultivators, no matter their talent, eventually hit a bottleneck—unable to advance further, whether from one minor realm to the next, or from one major realm to another.

She, too, has been stuck for decades at the peak of the True Core Realm.

At this level, one’s lifespan may extend to around 180 years, yet despite her youthful appearance—sustained through elixirs and the nourishment of natural energy—she is already 127.

That leaves her with only 53 years.

Her chosen path is that of Transformation, and through it, she can superficially transform into any living being she has seen once, and do so with incredible precision after sufficient research.

But despite years of effort, she has failed to push the artistic conception of Transformation to the level of Rule.

Without a new direction, she remains with the few masters and lingering spiritualists, watching Kanoru with quiet intensity.

As she gazes at him—still, calm, and deep in enlightenment—she begins to wonder if she should ask him for guidance.

Though Kanoru is technically one major realm below her, his talent far surpasses anyone she has ever met.

Seeking advice isn’t shameful; in fact, Kanoru may uniquely see the world, a way that could open something new for her.

The more she thinks about it, the more certain she feels that asking Kanoru would help, especially since his artistic conception of Vitality bears some resemblance to her own Transformation, as both are rooted in the essence of living beings.

Just as her thoughts begin to settle on that decision, a sudden shift in Kanoru’s aura pulls her focus.

She blurts out instinctively, “What’s happening?”

And around her, others who stayed behind begin murmuring in anticipation.

“Is he waking up?”

“Maybe…”

“I really want to know what he comprehended during enlightenment.”

Minami, too, is eager to know what rare insight Master Kanoru has comprehended during his enlightenment.

According to hearsay, every time someone enters enlightenment, they emerge with a breakthrough—whether it be a new elixir, a powerful technique, or even a unique form of magical weaponry.

While such claims are often dismissed by rational spiritualists, Minami can’t easily ignore them, because fifty years ago, on the Western Continent, she witnessed it with her own eyes.

She saw someone enter enlightenment and return not only as a Spirit Master but as the very first Steam Spirit Master.

That individual had discovered a method to harness the power of steam as a form of magic and energy, and now sits on the Spiritual Council, the very body that shapes the direction of human civilisation across the Western Continent—and even holds influence in the East.

Minami’s thoughts are interrupted by murmurs from the spiritualists still gathered around Kanoru.

“It looks like he’s not waking up.”

“What’s going on with his aura? Why is it fluctuating so much?”

“Who are you calling he? Say, Master Kanoru.”

“Why? He’s in the same realm as us. Just born lucky with mental strength at Spirit Master level.”

“Even then, his strength surpasses yours—you should still show respect.”

“Master Kanoru would already hold the official master title if he had chosen the artistic conception of Sleep.”

“Exactly. Do you think Master Aoi and the others call him ‘Master’ just because of raw power?”

“Oh… is that it? I always thought it was strange—how they address Kanoru as a master when they don’t even use the same title for Dharma Realm beasts, druids, or sea people whose strength is equal to theirs.”

Minami listens absently to their conversation, but her attention remains locked on Kanoru and the other silent Masters still observing him.

Then, without warning, all talking ceases.

The air grows still, and everyone’s gaze turns to Kanoru.

A faint third aura emerges around him.

Until now, Kanoru has carried two distinct auras—one from his Samurai cultivation, and the other from his Spiritual path.

Minami frowns, wondering if she’s sensing it incorrectly.

After all, there are only two known cultivation systems for humans—how could there be a third?

But the new aura doesn’t fade.

Instead, with every passing minute, the third aura grows stronger, more defined, undeniably real.

She hears whispers ripple through the crowd.

“Master Shironai, what’s going on?”

“Master Aruha, are we witnessing the birth of a new cultivation path?”

Master Aoi responds calmly, “Keep quiet and watch.”

Master Haruto adds sharply, “Stop your yapping—you’ll disturb Master Kanoru. We’ll understand everything once he wakes.”

Even the masters are uncertain of what’s unfolding before them, but none dares to interrupt it.

They continue watching in silence as the third aura intensifies, and then something unprecedented happens—Kanoru’s original auras begin to fade.

First, the aura of the Samurai vanishes.

Then, the aura of the Spiritualist follows.

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The crowd holds their breath, questioning whether Kanoru is abandoning both cultivation paths.

All eyes stay fixed on him, not daring to blink, as his body begins to change.

His muscles shift—shrinking, then expanding—bones crack and realign, skin stretches subtly, and a radiant sense of harmony flows from his figure.

The aura emanating from him begins to rise steadily, passing the threshold of the True Core Realm.

But it doesn’t stop there.

It keeps rising, growing denser, fuller, as if nature itself bows to his presence.

Even the natural energy in the surroundings appears to yield to him, swirling around him like loyal subjects, and within that swirling power, they can feel it—a faint, unmistakable thread of vitality.

The spiritualists instinctively step back, discomfort washing over them as they feel their own connection to natural energy weakening in Kanoru’s presence.

Only the masters stand firm, eyes unblinking, watching the miracle unfold.

The aura continues to climb, and with its pace and magnitude, many begin to believe Kanoru is about to ascend directly into the Spirit Master Realm.

But then, at the very peak of the True Core Realm, it stops, settling into a state of balance and quiet power.

Minami stares at him, eyes wide, stunned.

For hours, she remains rooted in place, the realisation dawning over her again and again: this—what she has just witnessed—is the breakthrough of a major realm.

Now, Kanoru’s realm stands equal to hers.

And for the first time in decades, she finds herself silently praying—not for strength or clarity, but to fall into enlightenment, just once.

Then, she feels Kanoru’s overwhelming aura begin to converge and vanish—but even in its absence, a pressure lingers in the air.

It’s faint at first, subtle, but with each breath it grows stronger.

Minami frowns, recognising the sensation—she had once felt something similar long ago, when she was still a young spiritualist and accidentally encountered a Great Demon Beast.

The beast hadn’t even looked at her, yet its sheer presence had nearly driven her to her knees.

Now, standing before Kanoru, she feels the same primal pressure rising from him, subtle but suffocating.

And then, Kanoru opens his eyes.

Minami instinctively steps forward, her heart racing, as he begins to speak—calm, steady, and clear.

He explains what he understood during his enlightenment.

He has created a new path—a cultivation method that allows Samurai without beast blood to break through their limits and surpass the Second Turn of the Great Samurai Realm.

But more than that, he has resolved one of the greatest weaknesses of the spiritual path.

He has unified both paths into a single cultivation system.

In this new way, the first three minor realms are cultivated through the Samurai method.

Then, from the High-Ranking Samurai stage, the spiritual path begins—not with the usual mental awakening alone, but by sensing the spirituality within the flesh.

That spirituality is then used to form a spiritual machine within the dantian.

Upon advancing to a major realm—either the Great Samurai Realm or the Spiritual Core Realm—that spiritual machine absorbs mental energy, migrates to the Sea of Consciousness, and transforms into a spiritual core.

This spiritual core opens the mental space and is nourished not only by natural energy but by the fusion of the body’s spirituality, vitality, inner energy, and the world’s ambient energy, forming a foundation far stronger than either the Samurai or Spiritual path could offer alone.

Master Kanoru named this new energy mana—a refined force that grows stronger through two means: a deeper understanding of the world, or further refinement of the physical body.

Any progress in either domain causes the mana to evolve.

Within the Spiritual Core Realm, mana must undergo four transformations to prepare for advancement into the True Core Realm.

Only after undergoing four distinct evolutions can mana condense into its liquid form—a critical threshold before one begins the ascent from artistic conception to the comprehension and shaping of a true rule within the True Core Realm.

Unlike the traditional cultivation path, where a spiritualist must engrave a specific magic power into their spiritual core to advance—thereby restricting their spellcasting to techniques derived solely from that power—Kanoru’s new system removes those boundaries entirely.

In his method, there is no need to engrave magic power at all; mana itself becomes the universal medium.

This grants unparalleled freedom and adaptability, breaking the rigid framework that once confined spiritualists to narrow elemental paths.

Before, some elemental spells may have lost potency or become unusable due to clashes with the practitioner’s artistic conception; that limitation is now obsolete.

All elemental and non-elemental spells can now be cast freely and without reliance on natural energy.

Mana alone can fuel spells, erasing the spiritual path’s greatest weakness: dependence on external energy sources.

Those who convert to Kanoru’s system and reach the True Core Realm will even gain the ability to control natural energy within their mental range, transforming it from a passive field into an extension of their will.

In contrast, spiritualists who continue down the old path will become powerless when natural energy is scarce, leaving them like lambs waiting to be slaughtered.

Realising this, Minami feels an urgent need to return home and convert to Kanoru’s spiritual way without delay.

After a few more minutes of conversation and silent awe, the gathered masters and spiritualists respectfully allow Master Kanoru to leave, and Minami personally escorts him to the residence prepared for his stay.

Outside his residence, Merin steps into his room and begins to close the door, but then he catches Minami’s expression and the way her emotions flicker across her face, like she’s holding something back.

He looks at her and simply says, “Out with it.”

Minami hesitates for a moment before drawing a breath and saying, “Master Kanoru… could you give me some advice?”

Merin blinks, slightly taken aback.

He has known Minami for only two days, and already she’s asking for advice.

More than that, he can feel her vitality clearly; though he cannot pinpoint her exact age, she must be well over a hundred.

So what guidance could he possibly offer someone who is centuries older than him?

If Merin could count his past two lifetimes, his accumulated years would surpass hers, but Minami doesn’t know this.

And there was nothing he could advise about life that a centuries-old spiritualist wouldn’t already have experienced.

He tilts his head, curious despite himself, and asks, “Advice? About what?”

Minami bows her head and answers, “I’m stuck at the peak of the True Core Realm. Could you give me some guidance on advancing to the Spiritual Master Realm?”

Merin’s brow furrows.

He is also at the peak of the True Core Realm, so what exactly does she expect him to offer?

By the traditional path, advancing to the Spiritual Master Realm requires creating a Rule of the world and then refining the body with that Rule.

Only after completing that refinement would one truly step into the Spiritual Master Realm, generating a single drop of original energy.

That single drop would grow with further cultivation until it eventually filled the dantian with a hundred drops of spiritual energy at the realm’s peak.

“I sense,” Minami continues, “that our artistic conceptions are similar.”

Her words make Merin pause and listen more carefully.

He falls silent after she finishes, thinking it over.

Minami’s speciality is the artistic conception of transformation, and his is vitality—two concepts intertwined with life itself.

He feels that helping Minami could also help him progress, and after a moment, he replies, “You’re right.”

“But to help you,” Merin adds, “I’d need a deeper understanding of transformation. And we both know I can’t spend my time comprehending a new artistic conception right now.”

Minami’s face falls, disappointment evident in her eyes.

“Then… goodbye,” she says softly, turning to leave.

“Wait,” Merin calls after her, his tone firm. “I never said I wouldn’t help you.”

Minami stops and looks back, uncertain. “Then… how could you help me?”

“Write your artistic conception in detail,” Merin says. “If you put your understanding into words, I can study it.”

Minami’s eyes light up with cautious hope.

“All right,” she agrees. “I’ll bring it to you in two days.”

With that, she walks away, leaving Merin at the door deep in thought.

He knows Minami can do this because she’s a spiritualist; those who walk the spiritual path can put their insights into writing.

The words may never fully capture the experience, and every spiritualist’s perception of the same conception is unique, but even so, her writing will give him a way in.

If she were a cultivator of the Beast Way, this wouldn’t be possible; they cannot articulate their inner conceptions like this.

And though Merin himself cannot write about other artistic conceptions—fire, earth, water, wind, metal, thunder, blood, dark—he can write about the vitality of humans and wood.

He had seen those other conceptions during his enlightenment as clearly as one might look at someone standing naked, and he’d been captivated by their beauty.

But he had kept his focus fixed on vitality, the one concept that aligned with his path.

To truly master and write about the eight elemental artistic conceptions of vitality, he would need to study their material forms and conduct practical experiments to grasp their essence before putting his understanding into words.

As for advancing to the Spiritual Master realm, he already knows the path clearly.

He only needs to wait for his vitality to grow naturally from rank 3 to rank 4; there is no need to force it.

If he wished to hasten the process, the elixir he conceived during his enlightenment—or similar rare resources—could speed up the progress.

But Merin feels no urgency to reach vitality rank 4.

He would rather wait until he develops a suitable method to advance his vitality to rank 5, a level that, from what he knows, exists in other lifeforms beyond humans.

That is one of the key reasons he agreed to help Minami: her research will give him a detailed account of the biological structures of various creatures that she has successfully transformed into.

With these thoughts about his future path swirling in his mind, Merin settles on the bed, calmly sensing the subtle changes in his body and deepening his familiarity with them as he slips into meditation.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep