Chapter 4 Awakening the Spirit Core

The small room was plain and a little run down. There was only a narrow bed, a table, and a chair. The wooden floor creaked when Silas Thorne walked across it, and the air smelled slightly of old dust. Yet, even with such a humble setting, Silas couldn't calm his heart. Just yesterday, he had still been a dying patient in another world. His body had been frail and broken, and his days had seemed numbered. Now, he stood healthy and whole in a completely different place. Not just healthy-he was now a disciple of the Azurelight Order, one of the great immortal sects.

He was about to start the path of cultivation.

It all felt like a dream. Even stranger was the memory of what had happened with the spirit measuring stone. The stone had lit up brightly when he touched it, brighter than any others had during the testing. It even cracked after the test ended. He didn't know why. Was his spiritual root too strong? Or was it something else?

Silas shook his head hard, trying to drive away all the questions. Thinking about it wouldn't help right now. He needed to stay focused. There was so much he didn't know, and he had to catch up. On the table beside the bed lay a small booklet. He picked it up and opened it. After everything that had happened today, the excitement inside him was still bubbling like a pot of boiling water.

He started flipping through the pages quickly, eager to learn.

According to the booklet, there had been a time in the ancient past when powerful beasts ruled the land. Humans were weak then, used as slaves or hunted like animals. But the first human ancestors didn't give up. They studied, they fought, and eventually, they developed the first methods of cultivation-ways to strengthen their bodies and minds. Over many years, they slowly grew stronger, until finally, some humans were able to fight back. Bit by bit, the balance of power changed. Through countless battles and sacrifices, humans became the dominant race on earth.

The knowledge of those ancestors, their methods and experiences, had been passed down generation after generation. What began as small sparks of wisdom had become a complete system of cultivation.

Silas's eyes sparkled as he read about the realms of cultivation:

Martial Arts Realm

Innate Realm

Purple Mansion

Cave Void

Each realm was a mountain to climb, with many small steps between the major stages. The Martial Arts Realm, the very first, was divided into ten levels. And that was just the beginning.

Though the booklet was thin, it was packed with knowledge. Silas read every word carefully. He didn't want to miss anything. After finishing the last page, he rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. His head was spinning with new information, but he was more excited than ever. There was another book on the table. He reached for it.

This one was titled "Gangling Technique."

It was the main cultivation method given to all outer disciples of the Azurelight Order. Now that he was officially one of them, this was the method he would be practicing. The Gangling Technique had ten layers, each one matching a level in the Martial Arts Realm. It was said that when someone reached the ninth layer, they would be able to break through to the Innate Realm. The tenth layer, however, was a mystery. Very few had ever reached it.

Silas read through it slowly. Every line described how to sense spiritual energy, how to breathe, how to guide that energy into the body, and how to use the Gangling Technique to refine it. When he finished memorizing the method, he sat down cross-legged on the floor.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began.

This was his second attempt at cultivation. The first time had been earlier that day when the test cracked the measuring stone. This time felt even more powerful. As he breathed, Silas could feel the spiritual energy around him rushing into his body. It wasn't cold, like the book said it would be. No-his body grew warm. Then hot. And then it began to burn.

His body was like a furnace now. The energy didn't just trickle into him-it flooded in. His muscles tightened, and sweat poured down his face. He tried to stop, but he couldn't. He remembered something from the booklet: Never stop halfway through, or the spiritual energy could tear you apart.

He forced himself to stay calm, even though he felt like his skin was about to melt.

The room around him was quiet. Luckily, the energy being pulled in was only affecting the space inside the room. If the aura had spilled out, it might have alarmed the entire Azurelight Order. Silas grit his teeth, his hands shaking. This can't be normal. This has to be dangerous.

He was absorbing too much. It was as if his body was a black hole, and it wanted to drink in every last drop of spiritual energy in the air.

His thoughts began to blur. His mind faded into heat and light.

Just when he thought he might pass out, something changed. The energy began to settle. His body had naturally completed a full circulation-a complete cycle of energy through his meridians. The aura inside him was calming down, spreading evenly.

Silas gasped for air, soaked in sweat from head to toe. His chest heaved.

"Cultivating is terrifying," he muttered to himself. "If this keeps happening, I'll be cooked alive one day."

Even though he felt weak, there was something new inside him. He could sense it clearly now-a trace of

Spirit Core. That meant he had already entered the first level of the Gangling Technique. Not just that-his Martial Arts Realm had reached the fourth level, all in a single night.

But he didn't know that someone else had also been struggling to sleep that night.

In another small room nearby, Vincent Hale sat on his bed, frowning. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones. Usually, when he cultivated at night, he could absorb a decent amount of spiritual energy. Tonight, however, it was different. The aura was thinner. He couldn't draw it in like before.

"Strange..." he muttered. "It's like someone is stealing it."

The idea made his heart skip a beat. Such a thing wasn't impossible-but only powerful elders had that kind of ability. And Vincent had never crossed paths with any of them.

He scratched his messy hair, thinking hard. "Wait... weren't three new disciples brought in today?"

He narrowed his eyes. "One of them lives next door."

A greedy smile spread across his face. "Must be someone from a rich family. Maybe he's carrying some kind of treasure that draws spiritual energy. If I can get my hands on that..."

His heart began to race with excitement. If he had such a treasure, entering the inner sect would no longer be just a dream.

He lay back, eyes gleaming with desire.

The next morning, before the sun had even risen, Silas got up and opened his door. The cool air refreshed his tired body. He took a deep breath and started walking down a narrow path. Yesterday, Senior Brother Elias had mentioned something called the Chores Hall. All outer disciples were expected to work every day-carrying water, chopping wood, cleaning, and so on.

Today was his first day reporting there.

"I wonder if I'll see Damien or Marcus," Silas said to himself. He didn't care much either way. Their proud attitudes had already annoyed him. Even though they came from the same family, he had no desire to deal with them again.

As he got closer to the Chores Hall, he heard angry voices.

"What?! You're asking me to carry eight barrels of water?! Each one is bigger than a bed!"

The complaint was cut off by a cold voice. "If you don't finish it, you won't eat. Get out if you don't like it."

Just then, something flew through the air. Silas dodged quickly, and a loud thud sounded behind him. A boy stood up from the ground angrily and stormed past him.

"Marcus Thorne," Silas muttered. "Figures."

Marcus, spoiled since birth, had probably never lifted a finger in his life. Now, being forced to do manual labor was a shock to his system.

Silas entered the Chores Hall. A few other disciples were already inside, most of them quiet, tired, or ignoring everyone else.

He heard someone say, "Another fool who offended Robber Hale. Poor guy won't have an easy life."

Robber Hale? That name made Silas pause.

Then a rough voice called out. "Name?"

Silas turned and saw a young man in black clothes with thick eyebrows and fierce eyes.

"Silas Thorne," he replied calmly.

The man looked him up and down like a butcher inspecting meat. "You're the new one," he said with a thin smile. "Starting today, go to Blackwood Forest and chop firewood. A hundred pounds a day. Someone will collect it before sunset. No wood, no food."

Then the man closed his eyes, dismissing him like he was nothing.

Silas didn't say a word. He turned and left, heading north. He remembered hearing about the Blackwood Forest when he arrived. It wasn't far.

As he walked, the young man-Vincent Hale-opened one eye and stared after him with a cruel grin.

"You shouldn't have what you have, kid," he whispered. "Blackwood Forest is perfect for people like you. Perfect for accidents..."

He grinned wider, a flash of danger in his eyes.

Then someone nearby made the mistake of staring too long.

"What are you looking at? Get lost!" he barked. "If you don't finish your work, you'll starve!"

Silas reached the edge of the forest as the sun started to rise. The trees stood tall and dark, packed tightly together. Shadows stretched across the ground.

He stepped into the forest, unaware that someone else might already be watching from the trees.