– Do you guys think Artigan will get an S+ for the Siege at Lazhen? @ Lefayee (Verified, R5)

– You have to remember, it isn’t always just about getting high achievements. The way you earn them matter too. Even if he gets an S+ it won’t @ Trustrovel (Verified, R4)

– Yeah but doesn’t that mean he’s going to get some sort of monster control Epic? Maybe even a plotting Epic? It’s pretty clear @ Lefayee (Verified, R5)

– Oh shit. Here’s to hoping he ends up doing the classic [Mage] thing and plans himself into a hole. @ Trustrovel (Verified, R4)

*In a Realmnet chatroom for fourthers and above. The messages were quickly leaked into the rest of the internet a day later. Both accounts are Milock’s. The fake adventurer’s account, Limoo has been abandoned after the argument with Regoranz.

—

The path he had chosen might have been the dumbest one yet. Ryan had chosen to isolate the path of aura into his right arm, making it a purely aura-based limb. Gamielle had told him of a possibility to get the best of both worlds, of course he was going to take it. He gritted his teeth as he swung with his broken sword.

[Aura Slash]

The red wave of aura flew at the cultivator, who had both his arms up as defense. Larix slammed both his arms into the wave and shattered it like it was glass.

“Good, again!”

Ryan sent out another [Aura Slash], the learned skill didn’t have cooldowns. It just needed Ryan to have aura as a resource. Still, this red wave was significantly weaker than any he had thrown before. This time, Larix simply punched the wave.

“Good! Again!”

Ryan sent out another slash. This one couldn’t even be called an [Aura Slash]. It was more like an [Aura trickle], traveling slowly and a wisp in comparison. His right arm trembled, unable to use the skill again.

“Switch arms, keep going until we deplete your aura entirely.”

He switched his broken sword to his left arm and sent out another slash. This time it was cleaner, but still wasn’t anywhere near as large as the first. He finally felt like all his aura had been expended.

Larix crossed the gap in two seconds. Ryan let the cultivator put his hand on his back. The man tried to pour his own energy into his back and his aura… still rejected it. Larix looked up at Gamielle and shook his head.

Both Ryan and Gamielle had sighed at that. They couldn’t expend all of Ryan’s energy enough for Larix to give a proper read. No matter what, a core of his aura remained in his body, stubbornly refusing to relent to any form of outside energy.

It was his stupid passive.

No matter how much they depleted his aura, the passive would stubbornly persist. Ryan tried pulling at it, but it never depleted.

“It’s the dimensional description,” Gamielle muttered. “Your skill latches onto anyone perceiving you. That means those in The Realm watching your videos are giving you a persistent replenishment of aura. All that attention is enforcing the minimum amount for your passive.”

“I was wondering about that. Isn’t that pretty crazy? That I’m getting bonuses from people watching me online? From all over The Realm?”

“A little. But it is an Epic. You forget that there are Epics that can stall time, break spatial boundaries or even give precognition. And that’s not to mention the most powerful Epic of all, [The Might of My Tribe]. Given the right conditions and levels, an Epic can outperform even an untrained Legend.”

When she said it like that, his Epic no longer sounded as impressive.

Gamielle shook her head.

“The problem isn’t really that, it’s that you’ve been leveling your Epic. Hitting level two from an S+ reward I’d understand but four? That’s the insane part. You should barely be scratching the surface of the skill, not leveling it up right now. We need to sort this out before it hits level five.”

“So, uh what do we do?”

Larix sat to the side, bandaging his arms. There were lines of red welts where he had used his own body to shatter the red slashes. That made Ryan feel a little better, it also made him wonder why the sect leader insisted on doing it that way instead of just him shooting his aura into the sky.

Gamielle wrinkled her nose, ignoring the injured Larix.

“You go back to Earth and try out the exercises we’ve taught you. Figure out what feels right and what doesn’t. Take notes on how each method makes your body feel without your Epic’s passive. Come back and report, and we’ll have Larix and the elders come up with something. We might have a scroll somewhere about singular limb mutations but it’s unlikely we’ll have something for aura specifically.”

“So, just trial and error?”

“Hmph. Don’t take that tone with me. Your body is optimized by the Trial System itself, in any other world, that alone makes you a once-in-a-generation genius. We’re utilizing that talent. If that doesn’t work… well then we’ll see about taking more drastic measures.”

“Uh… drastic measures?”

“Like cutting off both your arms and seeing in detail how either of them regrows. Or something even more destructive.”

“Oh. Let’s not do that.”

“Thought so.”

Ryan spent more time in the courtyard, trying to move his aura in The Realm and paying attention to how it started then traveled throughout his body. There was a core of condensed aura near his chest. He just hadn’t been able to notice it until now. Trying to move that core felt like trying to push a mountain with his bare hands.

All his aura stemmed from there and flowed wildly outwards with zero control. Aura wasn’t like mana or qi. It did not normally travel through the body’s energy channels.

It emanated like fire. An everburning core that fluctuated depending on how much fuel it was given.

Ryan breathed in, then out.

He tried to guide the aura through his breathing, but he didn’t think that was the right method. Gamielle had told him to trust his instincts here.

He stood, eyes still closed. Obsidian robes fluttering behind him. Sword in hand. Ryan started swinging, going through different forms.

Slash into a thrust, thrust into a swing. Riposte back.

The aura flowed with him. He could feel it this time. He mimed a knife throw.

The Skeleton Lord

Zedart

Strategist Avale

General Grivkas

Valee

Kenheart

All the fights he was truly proud of–he imagined fighting them all, desperately directing his aura into his right arm. The injured arm didn’t react well to the amount of aura shoved into it. Its baptism at the peak of his aura did not mean it would work better under it. He had to dodge and strike back he needed his arm to move, move-

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A hand grabbed his shoulder, startling him. Ryan reacted instinctively, trying to kick, but it was easily deflected. He blinked himself awake, a calm Larix looking over him.

“I don’t believe that’s the correct path either.”

The sect leader looked pointedly at his arm. His nails had shattered, and blood dripped down his fingers. He pulled up his sleeve to see angry bulging veins and spotted patches of red bruising. Ryan flopped the useless arm in front of his own face, not feeling the pain at all.

Not feeling anything at all.

“Whoa.”

Larix took a step back and turned to Gamielle. She was sitting, legs crossed, in the air. Her head resting on her hand. Apparently content to let Ryan suffer.

“You would have made a good [Warrior].”

Ryan stopped flopping his arm around and sniffed. “Thanks.”

“It’s a compliment you idiot. You should seriously consider taking a more [Warrior]-aligned class in your next class upgrade.”

Ryan shook his head, “I’ll take whatever will give me more power. Besides, I know where I stand. I’ll leave pure physical classes to actual talents like Zedart.”

A ghostly hand appeared above him and bopped his head. It was too quick for him to dodge.

“Didn’t you listen? The Trial System has put you at the peak of talent. Battle instincts can be honed over time, skills and–”

She trailed off when she noticed his flat look. Gamielle clicked her tongue.

“Fine. You’re not wrong. Zedart is a step above. But he’s a one in a million that was given a one in a million upbringing. But there is a thing to be said about passion. I think in the long run, following what you love won’t lead you astray.”

Ryan blinked at the statement. Was he passionate about swordcraft?

Of course he was. It felt like such a dumb question, but he hadn’t really thought about how much he actually loved practicing the sword. Most children on Earth played around with swords, shields and spears. Going to extracurricular classes for combat was just a normal thing to do. When young Ryan found out that he had a bit of talent for it, he threw himself at it. Hoping to become an adventurer.

It had been such an important part of his early life that he never questioned whether he was passionate about the sword.

He didn’t understand meditation or channel flow, but he did understand practicing sword forms.

It had been awhile since he ever really thought about swordcraft for its own sake.

That said it all, really. He shook his head. Gamielle gave him a weary smile.

“Well, I tried… I just think you’d be happier.”

He gave her a genuine smile for once. “Thanks Gamielle.”

Larix, the third wheel, cleared his throat, “Might I suggest we open up the courtyard and let the others in the sect use it? Perhaps Artigan here can look upon the elders and see where he stands in the realm of talent.”

–

It wasn’t long before most of the courtyard was filled with disciples. It had turned into a first-come first-served event to watch two elders spar. But that wasn’t what really drew the crowd. The elders gave exhibition matches all the time. The real attraction was Gamielle and the mysterious stranger that had come in wearing the sect leader’s robes.

An elven elder stepped to the center, then promptly gave Ryan a glare.

Gamielle narrated loudly, uncaring who heard her.

“She’s Elder Gudriel. Fought in pretty much every Earth conflict. All her mana channels burned out so she rebuilt a new path in pure qi. It’s quite a miracle she’s even alive,” Gamielle’s voice turned into a whisper, “She might have figured out who you are. We don’t normally let adventurers keep their looks hidden.”

That made a lot more sense. Ryan wasn’t the best at guessing the age of elves but Gudriel had scars. Deep lines that indicated a battle worn warrior. Most of those could have been removed, she’d kept them on purpose, or it was a cultivation thing. Ryan really had no idea. People kept looking their way, many just staring and flinching from his passive.

“Gamielle, I kind of feel uncomfortable looking down at them.”

They were sitting on an elevated platform. Gamielle had placed him in the center with Larix beside him. Larix the stupid cultish idiot had just followed her orders. Now Ryan looked like the sect leader, overseeing two elders going at it for his own entertainment.

He was fine performing in front of a camera. Being placed literally above everyone and lording over them? That he was a little less okay with.

Gamielle snapped her fingers.

“Stop squirming and pay attention.”

Opposite of Gudriel stood the old man who had brought him tea. Ryan hadn’t been able to tell he was an elder and that was a huge mistake.

The elder was good.

Both elders were stronger than Larix.

“That’s elder Lindred. One of the original Realmer cultivators. They didn’t call it cultivation back then. Lindred carved his own path, and he was the previous sect leader.”

Interestingly, the stockier human was more fluid and graceful than the elf. Gudriel was more forceful, opting for sweeping strikes, trying to close the distance, while Lindred maintained the distance. He diverted her blows with precise arm movements.

Neither used weapons, just their fists.

They exchanged blows. Far, far faster than Ryan could at his peak. Sometimes breaking the sound barrier, sometimes slowing to a speed that younger disciples could follow. Gudriel’s leg swept out–deliberate and slow, at a regular human’s pace. At that speed, each of their moves looked like polished perfection by two choreography masters.

A masterclass of combat.

Lindred’s arm guided the kick aside, then threw a flurry of blows with his other. Gudriel stepped back.

Then they repeated the sequence, except this time at realm two speed. Then realm three. Faster and faster until even Ryan was having a hard time keeping up. Eventually they started shattering the sound barrier with each strike. Realm six.

They moved faster still. This time the sound barrier didn’t shatter. They were using their qi to guide each strike. Every blow was fast as hell yet it was the same movements they did at mortal speeds. Their bodies flowed continuously.

Possibly as good as any adventurer in the eighth realm.

That was the demonstration. The training for the younger generation.

Then they fought for real.

Gudriel changed posture and went low, her fists glowing–and launching. They were stronger than any sort of [Extended Blows] skill that Valee had used. Hundreds of earth-shattering strikes flew at Lindred. The old man slipped and weaved between them. A blur himself, a single arm to parry the ones he couldn’t dodge. Once again, Gudriel was unable to get past Lindred’s defenses.

Then they slowed down, back to a more reasonable realm six speed. Repeating the new sequence at each lower realm.

At lower speeds the [Extended blows] felt… off.

Gamielle caught Ryan’s frown.

“Tell me what you see.”

“It’s like a learned skill activation, but it’s worse? I mean it looks like Gudriel’s using a learned skill but it doesn’t look right.”

“Exactly.”

The extended attacks from Gudriel were slightly too wide, a little too large, and didn’t seem any stronger than her regular attacks. She kept it going far beyond the usual duration of [Extended Blows], but each strike was sloppy. Even at realm six speeds it looked worse than a third realm adventurer’s [Extended Blows] skill.

“Do you get it now?”

He did. Gudriel was stronger, older, and had probably honed that technique for decades. Yet she was still far from perfection–and that perfection was where Trial skills started from.

That felt wrong, wrong and deeply relatable.

They kept watching. In the end, Gudriel barely won the third round. Leaving it two to three to Lindred. Gamielle waved her hand, and both cultivators bowed to her. Gudriel giving Ryan another glare before stepping off.

Next came two younger fighters. The teenage dwarf Taris and her human friend. Eager to prove themselves in front of Gamielle. They hurriedly looked away when they met his eyes.

Then they fought.

It was… bad. There was no other way to put it. Even if you were charitable and gave them some room for being nervous it was still bad. Taris punched stiffly, unable to retract her fist quickly. From their speed, they were at least in the first realm but they fought like people unused to their superhuman bodies.

Even [Warriors] that had blitzed three Trials didn’t look this uncoordinated.

Taris got the shit beaten out of her. At their levels, physical reach was still a vital issue and she had neither the skill nor speed to compensate.

Gamielle clapped.

“Well done, both of you. You’ve both progressed very well.”

Both of them bowed and walked off, Taris looking especially embarrassed. The show matches continued for another hour, Gamielle sounded supportive each and every time, and every time they finished fighting, the competitors would bow towards her.

Considering the way she talked about other adventurers, Ryan couldn’t hear her words of praise as anything other than patronizing. She was someone who had seen every kind of prodigy go through the Trials. Gamielle talked about the other Tyrants as if she had met them regularly.

How could she take these fights seriously?

But none of the Obsidian Sect heard it the way he did. The cultivators puffed up with pride at her encouragement. They fought with passion and fervor for it.

By the end of the hour, Ryan stopped hearing Gamielle’s praises as patronizing.

His own childhood struggles against adventurers’ children were nothing compared to what these people were trying to overcome. They knew it was impossible, and yet they still tried to bridge the difference between adventurers and themselves. In the same realm, any adventurer was significantly better than pretty much every single cultivator here.

It was the same reason why Ryan had managed to defeat General Grivkas. The demonic General was an upgraded class, the strongest in the army. Yet the demon was barely faster than he was. The Trial System upgrades were simply far, far better than what normal people could accomplish on their own.

By the end of the hour, Ryan truly did understand what Gamielle had meant when she had said that these people were fighting against the heavens itself.

–

When the day ended, Ryan took up residence in a free apartment. He refused to let Gamielle push him towards a fancy building that was probably Larix’s–the sect leader’s home. Ryan just stared at the bare ceiling, unsure how to feel about the Obsidian Sect.

They laughed, played games and ran around chasing each other. Adults would pick up kids and admonish them for getting out of line.

A true community.

Then the kids would pick up swords and practiced like their lives depended on it. Instructed by war torn veterans covered in scars and horrific mutations.

Ryan had trained hard as a child. Probably harder than most of the kids in the Obsidian Sect.

But there was an edge here that he never had as a kid. They were all preparing for war. Ryan had just wanted to succeed so he could become a cool adventurer.

The steely determination of the Obsidian Sect was getting to him. They didn’t exist in his world, the world he grew up in. Not even the adventurers looked like that. Only when pushed to the limit, did he see that look from them.

Barry and Seffara sometimes looked like that.

Ryan sighed and used [Return To Earth].

He’d forgotten about how he had pranked Seffara when he had left Earth.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep