Thalion knelt on the cold stone floor, carefully engraving intricate runes into its surface. The system he was constructing was designed to channel energy toward a single focal point in the room. The pentagram sprawled across a massive twenty-five-meter diameter, its symmetry and complexity mesmerizing. It wasn’t Thalion’s first attempt—he had perfected this design countless times within the golden palace, using his own blood as ink. However, this time, he had refined the process.

Instead of blood, the runes were carved directly into the stone, their patterns etched with precision born from practice. Once complete, he planned to fill the engravings with liquid crystals, their gleaming translucence a perfect medium for capturing and amplifying mana. Around these lines, he strategically placed small wind crystals, their faint hum resonating through the chamber.

The goal was to infuse the system with wind affinity, hoping it would bond seamlessly to his efforts. Hammering the crystals into alignment might have accelerated the process, but time was a luxury he didn’t have. The current method was already progressing quickly enough—though not without risk.

Despite the looming threat of an attack, two skyships worked tirelessly in the mountains, mining more wind crystals. Thalion smirked at the thought. Handling such materials was akin to power-leveling for the craftsmen under his command. He wasn’t merely constructing a powerful magic circle; he envisioned towering pillars of crystals radiating mana, increasing its density throughout the room. By the time the system shop arrived, over fifty wind crystals would saturate the chamber.

Perhaps he could acquire an altar for the center of the circle. An altar would enhance mana flow, directing energy more efficiently to the exact point where he intended to sit. Yet, priorities loomed larger. His encounter with the termite hive had exposed weaknesses—mental attacks he had no defenses against and the earthy brown mist that nearly overwhelmed him. Both needed addressing.

After a few more adjustments to his work, Thalion finally materialized before the voice of the system, his vast wealth of credits ready to spend.

“Good day! I need a lot of things today. Are you ready?” Thalion greeted with a jovial tone, his eagerness unmistakable.

“Sure,” the voice responded, though with a faint note of irritation. “Just tell me what you want.”

Thalion pondered where to begin. His base’s fortifications could wait—personal survival came first. “When I invaded the termite hive,” he began, explaining the situation, “I got hit by some sort of mental attack. Even with my strong soul, I couldn’t defend against it. Do you have anything that can counter such attacks?”

The voice responded calmly, but with authority. “A strong soul alone isn’t enough to shield you from such mental intrusions. Think of it as having a powerful body but no knowledge of how to fight. There are items that can help, but most are not particularly effective. The best solution lies in learning the techniques yourself. For someone like you, who needs these defenses across multiple forms, only a manual will suffice.”

Before Thalion, a scroll materialized, shimmering with ethereal light. Its title was The Veil of Aegis, and its cost—890,000 credits—was steep but not unreasonable.

The Veil of Aegis

This advanced manual combines meditative visualization and energy-focusing techniques, enabling the user to build an impenetrable mental fortress. By mastering these methods, the user learns to shield their thoughts while channeling protective energy to repel and disrupt psychic assaults. The approach offers both passive and active defenses against mental attacks, ensuring comprehensive protection.

The scroll shimmered with runes that seemed to dance and shift when observed, a testament to its sophistication. Thalion trusted the system’s recommendations implicitly; every item purchased thus far had exceeded expectations. Despite the hefty price, he was confident it would be worth the investment.

A fleeting thought crossed his mind—would the knowledge be transferred directly into his mind, like the memory crystals he had used before? The process was unpleasant but vastly efficient. He decided it was worth asking after addressing other pressing matters.

“I want to align a skill better with my umbral predator form,” Thalion said, leaning forward slightly. “Do you have anything to help me with that?”

The voice responded thoughtfully. “You already possess the fusion skill. If you find another skill with a darkness attribute, you can fuse the two, effectively stripping away any incompatible elements, including the earth affinity. But be warned—this process might alter the skill’s effects when the affinity changes. Alternatively, there are skill creation tools, but those are exceedingly expensive and would take months to achieve the desired results.”

Thalion frowned slightly but nodded. Weeks of grinding and experimentation were far from ideal. “I’ll need to think about it,” he murmured, eyeing the shimmering scroll before him. Priorities were shifting quickly, and his resources—though vast—were not limitless.

That wasn’t ideal—not ideal at all. Thalion scowled, tapping his fingers against his thigh in frustration. He didn’t have any darkness-aligned skills that could rival the brown mist, at least none he was willing to sacrifice. Creating a new skill was tempting, but if the voice claimed it would take months, it was best to shelve the matter for now.

“Fine, let’s move on,” he said aloud, his tone sharp but controlled. “In another reality, I looked into the title Guardian’s Remnant, and no one had survived it there. What’s the status in this reality?”

It was a question he had meant to ask the system ages ago but had always managed to forget. Still, the answer would likely differ. The other reality had been limited—just four planets and the Golden Palace—whereas this one offered an infinite expanse of galaxies. Surely, someone here must have ascended to godhood.

The system’s voice answered after a pause, its tone as neutral as ever. “The title Guardian’s Remnant is exceedingly rare. Many have managed to reach S-grade, but none have successfully ascended to godhood. A few achieved immortality but were typically killed in battle before taking the final step.”

Thalion’s lips thinned. So much for motivation. He had hoped for a more inspiring answer, something to reinforce his resolve. Instead, all he got was another reminder of how high the stakes were. But in the end, he reasoned, losers were the ones who needed motivation. He didn’t need a pep talk—he would achieve immortality. He would live forever. Nothing would stand between him and his dream.

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Yet one question still nagged at him.

“Why was it so difficult for them to reach godhood?” he asked, his voice firm. “I thought leveling after E-grade was supposed to be much smoother.”

The system responded almost mechanically, as if reciting an immutable truth. “That’s correct. Leveling accelerates significantly after E-grade. However, most individuals acquired the Guardian’s Remnant title much later in their journey. The primary obstacles to reaching godhood are time and risk. Simply put, they weren’t strong enough when it mattered most.”

The explanation was vague, unsatisfying, but pressing further seemed futile. Thalion clenched his fists briefly before releasing the tension. He wasn’t in the mood to provoke the system. It was better to focus on practical matters.

“I need a solution to stop termites from attacking my base from underground. Do you have anything for that?”

“Certainly. This should suffice,” the voice replied immediately. A faint shimmer filled the air as a crystal materialized before him, glowing faintly with energy.

Earthbane Conduit

The Earthbane Conduit is a sophisticated defense system designed to thwart tunneling attempts beneath a base’s walls. Combining advanced arcane principles with mechanical ingenuity, the device creates a subterranean barrier that disrupts and neutralizes any digging efforts, both physical and magical. The system relies on interconnected nodes that extend protective energy deep into the ground, forming an impenetrable shield. [1,900,000 Credits]

Thalion examined the crystal, his sharp gaze scanning its faintly pulsing surface. It sounded like an excellent defensive measure, but the price made his stomach churn. Nearly two million credits? Absurd.

Still, as much as he disliked the cost, he couldn’t deny its value. Running a base came with its frustrations, and spending credits was one of them. Yet, he had earned those credits simply by being the base’s leader. If that meant footing the bill for high-quality defenses, so be it.

“Fine, I’ll take it,” he said after a moment’s thought. “And for the rest of my credits, I’ll purchase some battle skyships. They’ll be more versatile than static defenses. If no one attacks, they can be used to harvest wind crystals.”

The system acknowledged his decision without fanfare. “Transaction complete.”

“Thank you, as always,” Thalion said, offering a casual wave as he exited the system shop. “See you next week.”

As he reappeared in his base, a fleeting thought crossed his mind. He really should spend more time in the system shop. The body-tempering options alone were worth exploring, but he always seemed to think of these ideas after he left.

Shaking his head, Thalion set to work. The new skyships needed deployment, and the Earthbane Conduit had to be activated. The process was simpler than he expected—combining the building crystal with the base’s command crystal triggered a cascade of runes to appear on the inner walls. The protective dome, which had previously shielded the base from aerial assaults, now extended underground.

It wasn’t perfect. If the termites decided to assault the barrier directly from beneath the earth, the shield might not hold indefinitely. Still, it would buy them time—enough to teleport to the next stage if needed.

His tasks complete, Thalion returned to the basement, where he retrieved the scroll he had purchased earlier. Activating it caused the parchment to dissolve into fine sand, which shimmered briefly before vanishing.

A rush of knowledge flooded his mind, overwhelming at first but not as painful as the memory crystal’s backlash. Hours passed as he sorted through the influx of information. Once his thoughts cleared, he began to examine the newfound techniques.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here,” Thalion muttered to himself, flipping mentally through the acquired knowledge.

The future awaited, and he intended to face it with all the power he could muster.

The fortunate thing was that it wasn’t like body tempering; simply learning the concept was enough to begin.

The first step involved constructing mental defenses around his soul. It was akin to hardening the skin, a protective layer shielding the soul from external forces. Another technique focused on generating waves that rippled outward from his soul core, pushing foreign energy out of his soul body. These waves could serve as both a defensive measure and a way to dispel harmful effects after being struck.

It was perfect—at least, it would have been if he hadn’t forgotten to purchase the altar he’d planned to use for this very purpose. Instead, he had impulsively spent those credits on more ships. Thalion let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head. He needed to get his priorities in order. Maybe making a list next time would help. This wasn’t the first time he’d overlooked something critical.

For now, instead of standing on an elevated altar, Thalion remained grounded in the center of the expansive magic circle. The enriched wind-affinity mana surged around him, flowing like an invisible river. He relished the sensation, letting it sweep over his wings and body, greedily absorbing every ounce he could while inhaling it deeply. The mana’s energy was intoxicating, invigorating, and he focused on channeling its power into himself.

The process mirrored the body tempering methods of the Tidecaller Serpent and the Umbral Predator. However, Thalion believed his approach was more efficient. The manual he’d purchased for Eagly suggested hardening the body by flying through storms, but this method leveraged his experience and yielded better results—at least in his opinion.

After saturating himself with high wind-affinity mana, Thalion turned his focus to soul defense. It wasn’t the most efficient way to push Eagly’s development forward, but hardening his soul was a priority. If mental defenses like these had existed during the termite attack, he might have avoided the worst of it. Progress was slow, though. He had only managed to harden the “head” portion of his soul body so far, and the effort was far more demanding than he’d anticipated. Still, he pressed on.

He thought back to his early struggles with the spirit veins. They had been difficult at first, too, but now they felt as natural as breathing. Hardening his soul would become second nature eventually—he just had to endure.

The weight of the system’s earlier revelation lingered in his mind: no one bearing the Guardian’s Remnant title had survived to ascend. It only fueled Thalion’s determination to push himself harder. The title’s usefulness in combat was undeniable. It had saved him from Kael’s ambush, warned him of dangerous attacks, and even allowed him to perceive the flow of energy in the air—a skill that was proving invaluable in this process. He could almost “see” the optimal way to harden the outer edges of his soul body, starting with the head. Progress was steady, but completion would take at least two days.

Occasionally, he paused to breathe in more wind-affinity mana, keeping his passive body tempering active. The idea of constructing an altar from wind crystals crossed his mind again. Perhaps he could outsource the task to one of the smiths—time was a precious commodity, after all.

By the end of the first day, Thalion received a message from Lucan. The teleportation circles were complete, and Lucan had even improved them with insights gleaned from some crystal. These upgrades promised greater accuracy, and Lucan was confident they could eventually teleport directly onto a magic circle aboard a skyship. Installing the circles would take time, but the potential for precision deployment was worth it.

Thalion nodded to himself. Once the soul-hardening process was complete, he would shift his focus to the next stage: gathering materials for the Tidecaller Serpent. But for now, the mental defenses took precedence. The waves he had learned to create would cleanse his soul of outside influences, a safeguard too vital to delay.

If the undead or the people from the other base possessed mental attacks similar to the termites, his life would become far more challenging. This was why Thalion sat now in deep meditation, the wind-affinity mana swirling around him. Days passed as he worked tirelessly in the cultivation chamber, dedicating himself to mastering both his soul and body tempering.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep