Ardam left the Training Grounds as the sun dipped below the horizon, yielding the sky to the encroaching dark. His entire frame ached with a dull, throbbing heat; ten hours of relentless cultivation and the violent expansion of six Erta Veins had stretched his nervous system to its absolute limit. Every step felt like he was dragging lead, yet his stride remained purposeful. Reaching his derelict hut, he bolted the door from the inside and collapsed onto his thin, hard mattress.
"System..." his voice came out as a ragged rasp. "How much AC to master Merdun Lightning?"
[DING!]
[Initial mastery requires 70 AC.]
"Do it," Ardam muttered, closing his eyes.
Within moments, a flood of alien, terrifyingly potent information surged into his mind. This wasn't just text or imagery; it was years of phantom muscle memory, the art of energy manipulation, and the instinctual flow of power. He felt the exact pressure required to drive Erta through specific veins and the secrets of leashing the lethal lightning. When he opened his eyes, he felt like a master who had practiced the craft for decades.
[DING!]
[Merdun Lightning: Initial Stage — 30% Mastery achieved.]
Rest was impossible. The new power thrumming beneath his skin wouldn't let him sit still. He slipped out of the hut and headed toward the outskirts of the sect—a desolate, abandoned arena that hadn't seen a footstep in ten years. This place was a scar on the Shadow Sword Sect's history. Ardam remembered being fourteen... watching his brother, Ardeyn, challenge their uncle, Drake, for the throne. Ardeyn had believed Drake unworthy, but the duel had ended in seconds. Drake's overwhelming power had ground Ardeyn into the dirt before he could even blink.
Ardam walked through the cracked stone tiles and overgrown weeds toward the center of the field. A massive slab of Power Marble stood there, towering over him. It was a material designed to siphon and neutralize Erta, used in high-level arenas for its near-indestructible nature. The fact that this entire field had been reduced to rubble by Drake's single strike years ago served as a grim reminder of the power he was up against.
"Let's see what I'm made of," Ardam whispered.
He unleashed his Erta. The energy rampaged through his newly forged veins. A second later, arcs of strange, violet-green lightning erupted from his body, lashing out at the air. The scent of ozone filled the clearing. Ardam pulled his left fist back, coiling his muscles and condensing every ounce of his strength into a single point.
"Merdun Lightning!"
He struck. The moment his fist met the marble, the world seemed to split. Violent bolts of lightning tore through the air, and a deafening CRACK echoed through the entire sect, a sound so sharp it made the disciples in distant dormitories tremble in their boots. It wasn't just a punch; it was a localized atmospheric explosion.
The massive slab of Power Marble groaned, spiderwebbed, and then shattered down the middle like cheap glass. Ardam groaned, his body buckling under the recoil. The skin on his arm had split from the sheer pressure, blood trailing down to his elbow.
[WARNING!]
[Host's body is unequipped for this load. Muscles and veins are in a critical state!]
Despite the agony, a savage smile spread across Ardam's face. He saw flickering lights in the distance—disciples and masters lured by the sound. He didn't wait. He vanished into the shadows, skirting through the brush until he reached his doorstep, where he collapsed.
"System... reconstruct... my body..."
[DING!]
[Insufficient AC. Current balance: 230 AC.]
[Recommendation: Use the Death Breath Runestone.]
"No! That's too rare. I'm not wasting it yet," Ardam hissed through gritted teeth.
[DING!]
[Alternative: Cellular Reinforcement. This will not numb the pain, but it will repair shredded muscle and realign damaged veins. Cost: 200 AC.]
[WARNING: This process is agonizing.]
"Do it!" Ardam commanded.
The sensation was instantaneous—as if a million poisoned needles were being driven into every inch of his flesh. To keep from screaming, he snapped a floorboard from the hut and bit down on it, his teeth groaning against the wood. Every cell was being torn apart and reassembled. The torture lasted hours until his mind finally gave way to unconsciousness.
Morning light filtered through the cracks in the roof. Ardam opened his eyes to find himself on the cold floor. The pain had subsided to a dull, numbing ache, but as he stood up, something felt... off. He felt taller. His clothes felt tight, the fabric straining against his frame.
He lunged for the small, cracked mirror in his room and froze. A different man stared back. He was at least ten centimeters taller, his shoulders broader, his muscles etched as if cast in steel. His hair was thick and long, his jawline sharper, his eyes burning with a predator's clarity. Cellular Reinforcement hadn't just healed him; it had evolved him.
He reflexively checked beneath his trousers and let out a dark laugh—even his "friend" had grown to match his new stature.
"System, how long was I out?"
[DING! 9 hours. It is currently 8:00 AM.]
"Huh. I thought I'd slept for weeks again," Ardam sighed in relief and checked his status.
[DING!]
[Host: Ardam Cray]
[Age: 25]
[Status: Warrior of the Shadow Sword Sect]
[Technique: Merdun Lightning (Initial) — 30%]
[Attributes]
Body: 19
Strength: 12
Cultivation: 6 Erta Veins
Erta Reserve: 700 URC
[Balance: 30 AC / 600 OC]
[Inventory: Death Breath Runestone (x2)]
Ardam washed his face in the stagnant water outside his hut, tied back his unruly hair, and headed toward the sect's tailoring hall. Every movement was now sharp, deliberate. His tattered rags could barely contain his new physique, poofing out at the seams. Disciples he passed on the way recoiled as if seeing a ghost, their mockery replaced by a primal, instinctive fear.
He shoved open the door to the tailoring hall. The air smelled of dust and old thread. Old man Gelli was slumped over a table, fast asleep. Ardam didn't call out. He lifted his foot and slammed it onto the reinforced floor.
THUD!
The shockwave rattled the building. Gelli jolted upright like he'd been shot, losing his balance and tumbling to the floor. He scrambled up, blinking wildly, his voice a high-pitched squeak when he saw the giant standing before him.
"Ardam... Ardam Cray? What are you doing here, you piece of filth? I thought the sky was falling!"
Gelli's voice trailed off as footsteps approached from the back room. A girl emerged—Lyuna, Gelli's daughter. Her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, her blue eyes sharp and bright. A long black gown hugged her slender waist and long legs, while the plunging neckline offered a generous view of her ivory chest.
"Father! Show the young master some respect!" Lyuna snapped, stepping toward them. She stopped before Ardam, bowing deeply, her eyes lingering on his new build with a flicker of hidden heat. "Good morning, Young Master Ardam. Are you here for a new robe?"
Gelli blinked, confused. "What robe, Lyuna? This is Ardam! He doesn't deserve anything but a broom!"
"Father, mind your tongue! The young master reached the 1st-Rank Warrior stage just yesterday," Lyuna said firmly.
Gelli let out a dry, raspy laugh. "Don't make me laugh, girl! I saw him a month ago. He had two Erta Veins. Jumping from two to seven in a month is a crime against nature! It's insanity!"
Ardam remained silent. I actually have six veins, he thought, but thanks to the Heart Core, my Erta density exceeds any 1st-Rank Warrior.
He didn't bother arguing. He released a fraction of his Erta. The air in the room instantly turned heavy enough to crush. Gelli's breath hitched, his knees buckling as the fabrics on the walls began to vibrate. It was the undeniable aura of a true Warrior.
Gelli's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Realizing his fatal mistake, he dropped to his knees, slamming his forehead against the floor.
"Forgive this fool, Young Master! My insolence is inexcusable!" he cried, trembling.
Ardam pulled back the pressure. Gelli scrambled up and looked at Lyuna. "Lyuna! Quickly, take the young master's measurements! What are you waiting for?"
Lyuna gave a mysterious smile. "I knew the young master would come, so I prepared a special set of robes last night."
"Excellent!" Gelli wiped the sweat from his brow. "You serve the young master. I... I need some fresh air. I almost died!" He scrambled out of the room.
"Follow me, Ardam," Lyuna said, her voice dropping an octave.
Ardam followed her into the inner chamber, a room filled with expensive silks and furs, all humming with faint traces of Erta.
"How did you hear about my breakthrough?" Ardam asked, watching her.
Lyuna stopped and turned. "Is there anyone left who hasn't? It's all anyone is talking about."
"And what are they saying?"
"They're saying Young Master Ardam Cray is a 'Hidden Genius,'" she said, stepping closer. "That you hid your power for years to avoid enemies, and now that the Successor Tournament has begun, you've revealed your true face. You're much cleverer than they gave you credit for, Ardam."
She moved within inches of him. Her perfume began to cloud his heightened senses.
"Take off your clothes, Young Master," she said softly.
Ardam stripped his tattered tunic, exposing his forged muscles under the dim light. Lyuna approached with a roll of Erta-infused silk.
"If you channel a bit of your energy into this, the fabric will mold itself to your exact frame," she whispered.
As Ardam donned the robe, Lyuna's slender fingers "accidentally" grazed his stone-hard chest. Her breath hitched. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the raw masculinity radiating from him.
"Why have you started avoiding me, Ardam? You used to want to be near me all the time..." her voice trembled.
A golden screen flashed before Ardam's eyes:
[DING!]
[Affinity Detected!]
[Status: Intimate Touch.]
[Target: Lyuna (24)]
[Cultivation: 4 Erta Veins.]
[Rating: 7.1 Grade Target.]
[Reward: +25 Affinity Coins (AC) granted!]
Ardam smirked. So this is how I farm AC, he thought. The predator within him stirred. He caught her hand with one of his own and hooked his other hand under her chin, pulling her lips inches from his. Lyuna's eyes widened with a mix of fear and sheer desire.
"I'm not the Ardam you remember, Lyuna," he whispered, his breath hot against her lips. "I've come to take back everything that belongs to me."
He pulled her flush against his chest, feeling her soft frame melt against his iron-hard muscles.