Time lost all meaning while Stephen cultivated.
His awareness sank deep within, carried along the steady rhythm of circulating qi and the gentle absorption of medicinal energy. The aches in his body faded, replaced by a slow, nourishing warmth that seeped into his bones.
When he finally opened his eyes—
The world had changed.
The herbal liquid in the tub had long since turned clear. Sunlight streamed in through the windows of the infirmary, casting soft golden light across the room.
He blinked once, adjusting.
Then looked around.
The other two tubs were empty.
Beside him, neatly folded, was a fresh set of clothes.
They've already left…
Stephen exhaled quietly and reached for the edge of the tub, preparing to step out—
"If you're done, hurry up and leave."
The sudden voice cut through the silence like a blade.
Stephen nearly jumped out of his skin.
He turned sharply.
Near the door, a woman sat behind a desk, glasses resting low on her nose as she flipped through a stack of papers. She hadn't even looked up.
"…And head to the Treasure Hall," she added flatly. "They're distributing monthly resources today. If you don't want to wait for days, you'd better move. The older batches will be there too."
Stephen steadied himself, then nodded.
"Thank you."
He quickly dried off, changed into the clean clothes, and left the infirmary without delay.
—
Despite his haste—
He was still late.
The Treasure Hall was already packed.
Calling it a "hall" felt like an understatement.
It resembled a grand palace.
Towering gates made of polished dark wood stood at the entrance, adorned with heavy bronze handles. Before them stretched a vast plaza, at the center of which stood a large fountain.
And rising from it—
A statue.
A woman clad in form-fitting leather armor, a sheathed sword resting in her right hand. Her posture was poised, dignified, exuding a quiet authority.
The statue was immaculate, clearly maintained with care.
Stephen's gaze lingered on it for a moment before shifting forward.
Three lines stretched across the plaza.
New disciples.
Second-years.
Third-years.
The latter two were noticeably smaller.
Without hesitation, Stephen joined the back of the probationary line.
Not far from them, a man reclined lazily in a rocking chair, seemingly asleep.
Yet the pressure he emitted—
It was heavy.
Steady.
Like a mountain.
A Grandmaster…
Stephen's eyes flickered briefly before he looked away.
Clearly, he was there to maintain order.
Time passed slowly.
Three hours.
Step by step, the line crept forward.
Another fifteen minutes later—
Stephen finally crossed the threshold.
The interior of the Treasure Hall was just as extravagant.
A vast ceiling arched high above, from which hung a massive chandelier. Its light was brilliant, almost dazzling—
Stephen narrowed his eyes slightly.
Energy stones…
The entire chandelier was crafted from them.
The pillars lining the hall were gilded in gold, embedded with more stones that pulsed faintly with spiritual energy.
Extravagant…
The floor was covered in a soft carpet, and red cordons neatly separated the three lines leading to their respective counters.
At the front, staff members sat behind glass panels.
When his turn finally came, a young woman dressed in black glanced at him lazily.
"Hand on the scanner."
Stephen complied.
The moment his palm touched the holographic surface, a subtle wave of energy passed through his body. It caused a faint tingling sensation before fading just as quickly.
"Name?"
"Stephen Stormcloud."
She tapped lightly on her screen.
A moment later, she placed two items before him.
A metallic card.
And a small pouch inscribed with faint runes.
Stephen's eyes flickered.
A spatial bag…
Even the most basic ones cost a small fortune outside.
He accepted both, stepping aside to examine them.
Inside the pouch—
Around fifty translucent stones floated gently, each containing strands of white mist.
Mid-grade energy stones.
Beside them sat a small vial of pills, slightly murky in color.
The interior space was roughly the size of a small chest.
He then turned his attention to the card.
It was made of a smooth, unfamiliar metal. Complex patterns were etched across its surface.
On the front—
Name: Stephen Stormcloud
Status: Probationary Disciple (1st Year)
Realm: Late-stage Apprentice
Total Points: 1000
Stephen studied it briefly before putting both items away.
Then he left through a side corridor.
His next destination—
The Scripture Repository.
If he wanted to continue improving his body, he needed a proper refinement technique.
—
Evening settled over the sect.
The sky dimmed, painted in fading hues of orange and violet.
The Scripture Repository stood apart from the rest of the buildings, perched on a separate mountain of bare stone. No other structures surrounded it.
A lone tower.
Nearly five hundred feet tall.
Its peak vanished into drifting clouds.
A single bridge leading to it.
Below—
A raging river roared, its waters crashing violently against jagged rocks far beneath. The drop alone was enough to kill.
Even on the bridge, strong gusts of wind swept across, causing it to sway faintly.
It was wide enough for four people to walk side by side—
Yet still crowded.
Disciples moved constantly in both directions.
Stephen stepped onto the bridge, joining the flow.
He had just reached the other side when—
A sudden force struck his shoulder.
He staggered, nearly losing his footing.
His eyes sharpened as he turned.
Wilson Thorn stood ahead, surrounded by several figures.
Five of them.
Their auras were heavy.
Two in the early Grandmaster Realm.
Two in the middle stage.
And one—
Standing at the front—
At the peak.
The man who had shoved him.
Wilson's lips curled into a mocking smile.
The burly man beside him rested a hand on the hilt of his sword, his gaze locked onto Stephen.
A faint ripple of displeasure stirred in Stephen's chest.
But he suppressed it.
He stepped to the side, intending to walk around them.
They blocked him.
Again.
And again.
His brows furrowed.
"What exactly do you want?" Stephen said calmly. "I don't even know you. When have I offended you?"
The burly man spoke.
"We know you. That's enough."
His voice was cold.
"Kneel. Apologize to Young Master Wilson for embarrassing him. Then hand over all your points."
A pause.
"And you can leave."
Stephen's expression didn't change.
"No."
The refusal was immediate.
The man's eyes hardened.
Without another word—
He moved.
In an instant, he vanished from where he stood.
Stephen's pupils shrank.
Too fast.
The man appeared before him, sword already descending, aimed straight at his shoulder.
"You'll leave an arm behind for your disrespect."
Stephen reacted instinctively.
His sword flashed into his hand—
Clang!
The impact rang out.
Though he deflected most of the force, the remaining power still surged through his body like a tidal wave.
His arms went numb.
He was sent flying backward, crashing into the ground.
A mouthful of blood rose to his lips.
Pain spread through his chest as his organs trembled from the shock.
But—
He didn't retreat.
His eyes turned cold.
In the next instant, he surged forward.
Sword raised high.
A faint, illusory silhouette appeared behind him—
An azure phoenix.
Its wings unfurled in silence.
A sharp, invisible pressure filled the air.
The burly man's expression changed instantly.
Danger.
Real danger.
He tried to dodge—
Too late.
Despair flickered in his eyes—
"Impudence."
An aged voice rang out.
Filled with authority.
"How dare you attack someone before the Scripture Repository? Do the sect's rules mean nothing to you?"
A streak of sword light cut through the air.
Clean.
Decisive.
Stephen's attack was split apart effortlessly.
The force slammed into him, sending his body flying.
He crashed into a nearby tree, the impact driving the air from his lungs.
Blood filled his mouth.
He coughed, forcing himself upright.
His gaze snapped forward.
A figure stood between the two sides.
A middle-aged man dressed in a T-shirt and jeans stood before him.
A blade rested loosely in his hand.