After returning home, Rudra quietly ate the lunch his mother had prepared in advance. The food had long since lost its warmth, yet he did not complain. Warmth, he knew, did not always come from heat.
He was already grateful—to his mother, who endured exhaustion every day just to ensure he never went hungry, even when her own burdens were heavy.
When he finished eating, Rudra carefully washed every dish, the soft sound of flowing water filling the modest room. Only after everything was clean did he sit down on the worn couch and let out a long breath.
"Ah… I finally feel full," he murmured, a rare hint of satisfaction surfacing on his face.
His eyes soon sharpened.
"Now… let's begin cultivation."
The words were spoken softly, yet they carried a quiet determination.
Rudra rose and sat on the floor, folding his legs into a lotus position. The soles of his feet turned upward, his palms opened toward the heavens, and his head tilted slightly back, as though welcoming something unseen.
This posture was known across Earth—solemn, ancient, and unyielding.
It was the prescribed stance of the world's only Genetic Energy cultivation method, the technique that determined humanity's path of survival.
The Five Acupoints Skyward Practice.
Once he settled into the correct posture, Rudra slowly closed his eyes and extended his senses outward, seeking the boundless energy of the cosmos.
The moment his consciousness reached out, the universe responded.
An ethereal, mysterious force descended silently from the void above, like stardust drawn by an unseen will. It flowed toward him and entered his body through the soles of his feet, the centers of his palms, and the acupoint upon his forehead.
In an instant, Rudra felt as though he had sunk into a warm, tranquil hot spring. His body relaxed completely, his mind drifting into profound stillness.
Yet beneath that calm, a violent transformation unfolded.
Every cell in his body seemed to awaken, cheering in silent ecstasy. Like starving specters, they greedily devoured the cosmic energy pouring in. The cells began to change—breaking, rebuilding, and multiplying—growing stronger with each cycle.
Strength surged through his muscles.
Speed coiled within his tendons.
Vitality seeped into his bones and blood.
Unseen to the naked eye, Rudra's body was evolving—quietly stepping closer to the threshold that separated ordinary humans from true warriors.
What was even more astonishing was that, without Rudra's awareness, a strand of that mysterious energy slipped past his physical senses and surged directly into his brain.
There, deep within the sea of consciousness, it gathered around the glowing rhombus-shaped crystal. The crystal pulsed softly, absorbing the incoming energy with unnatural ease. With each breath Rudra took, its light grew denser and more brilliant.
Yet Rudra knew nothing of this.
Immersed in cultivation, he remained motionless, breathing steadily as time slipped by unnoticed.
Sunlight faded beyond the windows.
Shadows lengthened, then dissolved into darkness.
By the time evening arrived, Rudra was still seated in his cultivation posture—unconsciously refining energy, his body and mind undergoing changes far beyond his current understanding.
…
…
…
In a room swallowed by darkness, Rudra finally ended his cultivation.
"Huh…"
A deep breath escaped his lips as he slowly opened his eyes. Instead of the familiar glow of evening light, he was met with complete darkness. For a moment, confusion flickered across his face.
Rising from the floor, he walked over and switched on the lights.
Brightness flooded the room, chasing away the shadows that had gathered during his meditation. Rudra stretched his body, rolling his shoulders and loosening his limbs. His muscles felt slightly stiff—an aftereffect of prolonged cultivation—but beneath that stiffness lay a faint, unfamiliar sense of power, as though his body had quietly grown stronger without him realizing it.
"Heh… I didn't expect to cultivate for that long."
A faint chuckle escaped Rudra's lips as he slowly clenched his fingers into a fist. The air seemed to tighten around his knuckles.
"But this… my strength has increased by quite a margin."
He closed his eyes briefly, recalling the familiar benchmarks etched into every cultivator's mind.
Five… maybe six hundred kilograms.
The number surfaced naturally, calculated with calm certainty.
Rudra's expression shifted.
"That's more than what Luo Feng gained after his first cultivation…"
A flicker of contemplation crossed his eyes—not arrogance, but quiet disbelief.
"Does this mean… I'm more talented than him?"
The question lingered in the air, unanswered.
For Rudra knew all too well—talent was only the starting point. In a world where survival was forged through blood and struggle, only those who endured could truly stand at the peak.
Just as Rudra was comparing his talent with Luo Feng's, his phone rang.
The sudden sound shattered his thoughts.
He glanced at the screen and frowned.
Unknown number.
That only deepened his confusion. Rudra had saved the contact information of everyone close to him—Jack, Lily, even Instructor Hameed, whose number he had received only earlier that day.
After a brief hesitation, he answered the call.
"Hello, am I speaking with Rudra Singh?"
An unfamiliar male voice sounded from the other end.
"Yes, this is Rudra Singh. Who is this?" he replied.
"Sir, I'm calling to inform you that your mother, Devi Singh, has been involved in an accident—"
Before the man could finish, Rudra's voice erupted.
"WHAT?!"
His heart slammed violently against his chest.
"Did you just say my mother was in an accident?" he demanded again, panic flooding his tone. For a fleeting second, he hoped he had misheard.
"…Yes, sir," the man answered after a brief pause. "She is currently at City Hospital. I'm a member of the hospital staff, and I was instructed to inform you."
Rudra clenched the phone tightly.
"How is she?" he asked, forcing the words out.
"She has received treatment. Please come as soon as possible to visit her. Before losing consciousness, she kept asking to see you."
Rudra's breath hitched.
"Alright. I'm coming right now," he said immediately. "If she wakes up, please tell her to wait for me."
Without waiting for a response, he ended the call.
The next moment, he rushed out of the apartment.
Downstairs, he flagged a taxi and gave the driver the destination—City Hospital. It was only twenty minutes away, yet it felt unbearably far.
As the taxi sped through the streets, Rudra lowered his head slightly, his fists clenched.
"Mahadev…" he whispered in prayer, his voice trembling.
"Please protect her."