“What the fuck was that old man talking about? Maybe it’s because of their narrow minds and prejudice that the elves have yet to produce an advanced spell.”
Fillan had just finished reading How Planting Stars In the Soul Could Elevate It to New Heights, and was shocked to realize how intricate the technique actually was.
It was neither haphazardly thrown together, nor unrealistic. It contained great detail for nine different stages of refinement, with enormous theoretical knowledge behind every single one.
Fillan would even go far enough to say this “experimental” technique was superior to most cultivation techniques in terms of potential and results.
“If the dark elves put some effort into this technique, then there would be nothing that could ever threaten them on Graaryll,” Fillan thought with surprise and mockery. “I can’t believe they would discard it just because verifying it could prove slightly dangerous; utterly wasted potential.”
In essence, the technique centered around the concept of how starlight, while emitted by blazing stars of pure yang energy, shifts into yin during its long journey towards Graaryll.
This gives it a one-of-a-kind uniqueness not found anywhere else in the universe, and it must therefore contain certain properties not yet explored.
Since the body is generally yang and the soul yin, with only a few minor exceptions, the author of How Planting Stars In the Soul Could Elevate It to New Heights reasoned that starlight would allow the soul to enter a harmony of yin and yang given enough time, refinement, and resources.
You slowly start working your way up from introducing starlight into your soul through a unique spell pattern, all the way to “planting”, which is more like creating your own, soul-stars, that forever produce both yang energy and yin light.
Unfortunately the technique was all that could be reasonably concluded by the author. What effects it would have, or how it would revolutionize magic was beyond his reach.
Fillan, however, already had some ideas about what would happen if someone practiced it to completion.
“The way these soul-stars are explained makes it seem like the yin-yang duality of the soul will bring it into balance. Which, if I’m not totally off my rocker, sounds like it would stabilize the tumultuous inner areas of the soul.”
“Not only that, the author also suspected that there would be a limit to how many soul-stars one could hold at once, and that a specific orientation of theirs would bring out optimal benefits; this sure sounds a lot like a body’s acupuncture points.”
“If so, then this technique would be an integral, and extraordinarily powerful asset for those who want to ‘humanize’ their souls.”
It’s recognized that the human body consists of three major layers of acupuncture points, all of which are the basis for a functioning energy vein system. It’s important to note that the acupuncture points themselves are not important, only their position and effect as energy vein anchors are.
Some speculated that energy veins are devolved and inadequate versions of the natural acupoints, but since no one has ever possessed “functioning” acupoints, this has just become an unsubstantiated rumor.
Those that believe in the rumor, however, often consider the energy core as an independent fourth layer,
Regardless, the first layer consists of 365 acupoints, the second 52, and the third 12.
“It would be incredibly fitting if I’m right about this, since it coincides with the amount of days, weeks, and months in a year.”
“This trip ended up being worthwhile after all! It’s a shame the other two works I had an interest in ended up being just theoretical possibilities without anything concrete…”
Despite not being farfetched, Ten Thousand Steps of Magical Refinement: Engraving the Soul on Magic, and Sacrificing the Body to Become an Innate Dominator, were something Fillan would have to spend a long, long time creating himself, and the benefits seemed quite lackluster.
Fillan knew becoming an innate Dominator would be great, especially with the potential benefit from his time-loops, but the time spent on creating a feasible technique and then refining it would take probably ten times longer than him reaching the Dominator normally.
It also came with massive restrictions on the person, like them being unable to leave their domains—areas Dominators hold jurisdiction over.
All in all, it wasn’t worth the hassle or limitations it imposed.
Engraving the Soul on Magic, however, was just speculating on how one could create multiple domains through the fragmentation and splitting of the soul to different parts of the universe. Hence, it too was worthless to him.
“There’s still around ten minutes before nighttime; I would like to be in an optimal location by then…It could only be Brothril. Even the smallest mountain there is twice as the tallest one on Tella.”
“Now, the question is whether the formations on Argaria will react to me teleporting away.”
Fillan was more than aware of how someone teleporting unauthorized in the city would be treated, but similarly wouldn’t want to walk all the way back to the city gates.
“What if something ‘went wrong’ with the library’s teleportation spell, and it ends up sending me far, far away into the lands of angry dwarfs? Logically, it wouldn’t react, right? It would be a massive oversight if a faulty formation results in people getting killed for nothing…”
“But then again, these people don’t even have advanced spells; can I really trust their formations?”
“You know what, it doesn’t matter. Hell, something interesting might even happen if I die inside the spatial turbulence.”
Die in lightning, get or improve his lightning aptitude. Die in fire, get or improve his fire aptitude. Logically, if he were to die in or of spatial turbulence, then he should receive a spatial aptitude. Of course, correlation does not necessarily equate causation.
However, even so, Fillan would be fine getting closer to discovering the parameters of the time-loop.
He still hadn’t forgotten that the entire reason he actually came to Argaria in the first place was to stabilize his soul-liquid, so that he could try and fuse it with mana and qi. Or in other words, kill himself and everything around him.
Since death was always the objective, Fillan wouldn't worry too much after obtaining some decent benefits.
With quick and swift steps towards the tube-teleporter, Fillan made some simple calculations on his chances of success through a spell of his.
“The fuck!?” Fillan accidentally shouted out loud. “What kind of psychotic episode is Risk Evaluator going through? Either ninety-nine percent chance of success, or five percent, or twenty, or thirty…which one is it? It’s impossible for the success rate to be every single number between zero and one.”
“Even if the risk was continuously changing with the person's position in space, there should still be a limit to the uncertainty.”
“I don’t understand how this could even happen. Risk Evaluator is fused with thirteen simple spells and one advanced one, the synergy should have made it capable of calculating the risk of anything happening during the teleportation, and make an educated estimate.”
“It, albeit barely, directly taps into fate to get a read on the situation, yet it can’t reach a conclusion? The only way that could happen is if fate doesn’t extend to the spatial pathway the spell establishes…but that should be impossible!”
“If fate doesn't exist there, then no one who enters will ever end up where they wanted to go; they’d just appear in randomized locations, if they even get to leave at all.”
“The spell is also far from powerful enough to permanently affect both space and fate and not be crushed…”
“...”
“...”
“...”
Despite standing around in deep thought like an idiot for over three minutes, Fillan still couldn't make heads or tails of the situation.
“This is so damn frustrating!”
“Fuck it, I’m going in!” Fillan decided. “If the answers don’t want to show themselves, then I’ll make them, damn it.”
Seeing as the destination didn’t matter much, Fillan just typed in some random combination of letters and numbers, and braced for teleportation.
With the sound of air moving into his prior position, he disappeared.
…
“Urgh!”
A loud groan echoed across a derelict dungeon-like location.
The walls were made of coarse black bricks all of which radiated a terrifying suppressive sensation directed towards, body, mind, and soul.
The floor was covered in barely fluorescent moss-like growth, and the ceiling hosted dangling mystery mushrooms in various colors accentuated by the weird light.
There was no apparent way in or out of the room, yet there was an ever present breeze ruffling the life forms within.
“What the hell happened,” mumbled one of twelve indiscernible figures leaning up against the dungeon's walls.
“Shut the fuck up, newbie,” snarled another.
“You’ve been here less than two days longer than him, you shut the fuck up;” derided someone else.
“How about all of you keep quiet?” came a serene voice from a darkened corner where the moss’ light seemed unable to reach. “Only me and that vixen have the right to tell others what to do here.”
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“I’ve been here two years longer than you, ascetic,” the vixen rebutted. “Don’t lump the two of us together.”
“You know I’m stronger than the both of you combined, so it doesn’t matter how long the two of you have been here; it doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” uttered a grizzly voice.
“Oh, please be merciful towards us, Bull Head,” the vixen exaggeratedly gasped. “I beg of you not to circumvent the suppression to deal with us!”
“Hahaha, you can be as sarcastic as you want, but when you’ve turned to dust, I’ll still be here, waiting,” Bull Head responded.
“Wow, I’m so envious that you’ll be trapped here forever while I’ll be free in a few centuries,” she mocked again, only to empty ears this time.
‘Where am I? What kind of place is this? What is going on here? Who are these people?’
Fillan felt close to an aneurysm just listening to the nonsense being spewed across the room.
The incomprehension, combined with his blaring confusion, left Fillan feeling like a newborn.
It was a truly unsettling sensation. Not to mention there was this strange power settling over him like a blanket that disallowed him from moving more than his eyes and mouth.
The tiny power he had built up from reaching the peak of Blood Transmutation also felt out of his reach, like someone was keeping it away from him.
Similarly, the trace amounts of free flowing qi in his energy veins came to a complete stop, almost as if frozen in time, while his connection to the universe’s laws was severed.
Oddly enough though, his mana was flowing normally. In fact, the environment was especially abundant in mana, making his soul and mana well feel invigorated.
‘This can’t be Brothril, right? There’s no way I miscalculated arriving thousands of meters above sea level into arriving deep underground. Even I’m not that incompetent.’
‘Damn it; the last thing I remember is using my spatial comprehension to teleport after being tossed like a stick around in that teleportation spell.’
Finally, more lucid than he was right after waking up, Fillan decided to wring some answers from the circus crowd he was surrounded by: “Where are we?”
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up, newbie?”
“Didn't I tell you to shut up?”
“Didn’t I tell all of you to keep quiet?”
“Didn’t I say weaklings don’t have the right to tell me what to do?”
Fillan: “...”
‘What kind of nut jobs are these people? Especially that first guy; he sounds like a little boy, yet he’s got such an attitude. I guess insanity doesn’t really differentiate between age.’
“Okay, okay, okay,” Fillan shouted. “I don’t care who wants who to shut up, but someone better tell me what is going on and where we are, or I. Will. Lose. It.”
“That’s going to be difficult, brother,” answered one of the other figures who previously remained silent. “We don’t really know either. Only senior Bull Head and the vixen have any idea of what his place is, but they refuse to tell us.”
“That’s right, those selfish egoists can’t even tell us where we are, or why we’re here.”
“I’ve been here for more than ten years, yet they still refused to tell me anything.”
“Ten? I’ve been here for over fifty, way before Bull Head arrived, yet even I’m still clueless!”
“I knew the vixen personally before ending up here, yet she hasn’t told me anything!” someone cried with indignance. “We went through life and death battles together, and she even attended my sister’s marriage ceremony.”
“I’m quite new, so I just thought no one knew. Never would I have expected to be surrounded by such pitiful people and rotten beasts!”
‘How the hell does that help me? I don’t care about your sob stories, just tell me where I am, and I’ll get the fuck out of here.’
“You, vixen, you better tell me everything you know,” Fillan demanded.
“If I told you everything I know, I’d have to talk for years; I can’t be bothered to do that,” she responded coyly.
“Funny, you’re a funny girl,” Fillan responded without emotion. “I think I might be dying of laughter over here. Ha. Ha. Ha.”
“Now, listen here you old bag, if you don’t start acting your age soon I’ll smack you! Now that’s a promise. And here’s another, if you don’t start throwing out the answers I want, I'll blow you straight into reincarnation.”
“It seems you hit your head on the way in, or maybe you’ve always been like this, but you should learn your place, and do so quickly, or this won’t be a very gracious place for you,” the vixen responded.
“None of us can move, not even that arrogant immortal bull, so show me how you’re going to ‘smack’ me, a helpless ‘old bag’.”
“Smack!”
“Smack!”
“Smack!”
“I threw in another two for good measure,” Fillan commented as the crisp slapping sound ricocheted between the walls.
‘It seems like everything related to cultivation and body tempering is suppressed by this place, while magic functions perfectly. Sucks to suck I guess.’
“H-how did you do that?” the vixen asked in disbelief.
“It’s rude to ask someone questions when you haven’t answered theirs; get to it!” Fillan reprimanded.
“Do you have any idea who I am!?” the vixen shouted towards the clearly gloating Fillan. “I promise that when I reform my body I’ll destroy everything related to you! Your home, your family, your friends, your accomplishments—”
“You have not the slightest clue who I am, so stop with the nonsense. Also, what part of ‘send you straight into reincarnation’ didn’t you understand?”
Since Fillan clearly chose the wrong target for questioning, he redirected his attention towards the towering shadow across the room.
“Bull Head, right?” Fillan asked. “An esteemed immortal like yourself wouldn’t need to withhold information from us plebeians like that witch did, would you?”
Of course, Fillan didn’t believe for a second that the guy was an actual immortal. It’s impossible for Fillan to have traversed the Realm Barrier at his level, and it was even more impossible for an immortal to descend onto Graaryll without the whole world knowing instantly.
The only conclusion he could reach was that these people came from an isolated place on Graaryll, separate from common knowledge and power, so they didn’t understand what the title “immortal” actually signified.
It was like how commoners would often call cultivators immortal, no matter how weak, just because they didn’t know any better.
“Hahaha, of course not!” he responded pridefully. “While she is trying to stop the others from leaving this place, I couldn't care less about what you guys do. I’m not leaving until I get what I came for regardless.”
“Senior Bull Head, are you serious?” asked the one who answered Fillan’s initial query.
“I never lie! This place is—”
“No!” the vixen interrupted with fury.” Who gave you the right to tell them!? We had an agree—”
“Boom!”
Before she could even finish her sentence, a strange ripple appeared in the air, before shrapnel-like debris shot out at incomprehensible speeds, quickly turning her vaguely visible figure into minced meat, before that was degraded further into blood and dust.
Only after every trace of her prior existence was erased did the shrapnel spewing ripples disappear.
“Don’t worry, senior Bull Head, she won’t interrupt you anymore; please continue,” Fillan said calmly.
“Impressive, young man,” Bull Head complimented. “Despite being suppressed, she was still a Law Palace, Earthly Palace dual-cultivator. To use magic to kill her with such ease shows how powerful you are.
‘Okay, so it’s not that they don’t know what an immortal is, it’s just that Bull Head enjoys pretending like he is one. What Law and Earthly Palace dual-cultivator? That clearly showed that she was only at the Golden and Sanguine Specter realms. If it wasn’t because getting knowledge from dead people is insurmountably more difficult, I’d have killed this pretentious asshole already.’
“You praise me too much, senior Bull Head, it’s nothing compared to you.”
“Hahaha,” Bull Head laughed.
“Hahaha,” Fillan reciprocated.
“Okay, enough laughing, back to what I was saying before I got so rudely interrupted by that flesh puppet, “ Bull Head continued after the humorous bout. “This place is an ancient zoo and graveyard, where only the most powerful of creatures in the universe could stay.”
“It has long since been abandoned by the owner whose fate is unknown, but all the beasts buried here still remain. Not only that, the zoo, even when the owner was around, was a place where only the fortuitous could enter for trial.”
“If you passed the trial, you could obtain the inheritance of the living beasts in the zoo, often along with their bloodlines. It’s said that the Ascended Dragon Emperor was just a common carp until he accidentally entered this place and obtained a transcendent bloodline and all its inherent memories.”
“Now, of course, there are no more living creatures remaining, but the cemetery is still ripe with treasure.”
“Phoenixes, dragons, qilins, vermillion birds, rocs, kun-pengs, hydras, griffins, almost every renowned and powerful species has at least one representative buried here. I even heard there are certain legendary beasts, that the universe could only ever birth one of, resting in peace here.”
“What creatures,” Fillan asked with suspicion.
‘How powerful would a creature have to be for the universe not to create more of it?’
“Like the Brazen Divine Eye, the Shapeless Thief, and…the Katesthio,” Bull Head answered with reverence, ladened with anticipation and greed.
‘Katesthio? Am I truly this lucky? I just go out for an elaborate way to commit suicide and return with a way to improve not only my soul, but potentially also my cultivation? Does the Karmic Eye of Reincarnation turn negative karma into luck or something?’
“Unfortunately, since the owner left, the only way to enter is ending up here by pure luck and happenstance, before waiting until a trial that suits you is generated.”
“Back in the day, this would have been instantaneous, but now it is run entirely by the remnant intent left behind by the expert, and can take anywhere between one to ten thousand years.”
“And the only way to leave this place is either through death, passing the trial, or sufficiently powerful magic. Of course, if you do manage to leave, you have still obtained the qualifications to enter the trial, and whenever it’s ready, you’ll be whisked back here to participate in it.”
“That’s why that puppet was acting so arrogant; her real body is somewhere else, while only a part of her soul wormed its way in here through possessing someone with staggeringly high luck. Since she obtained her qualifications, she couldn’t care less about staying here.”
“However, she knows that I have the power to send people out of here, so she tried to make sure I wouldn’t spread the news and have her killed through underhanded means.”
“To me, though, it doesn’t matter if she lives or dies, passes or fails the trial, nor whether any of you do; I’m confident I’ll walk away with the most benefits regardless. It also makes no difference to me whether I wait in here or out there, since my lifespan is endless.”
“Are you sure that was only part of her soul?” Fillan asked Bull Head with suspicion.
“One hundred percent!”
‘Maybe it was the original soul of that body then, ‘cause I know for a fact that I attacked a complete soul, and that it entered reincarnation…whatever.’
“Senior Bull Head, does the cemetery only produce one trial at a time, or does it do multiple at once?” Fillan asked for clarification.
“How would I know?”
Fillan: “...”
‘Why is he pretending like he didn’t just spend like five whole minutes spewing non-stop information about this place?’
“However, I can feel that the next trial is about to open,” he revealed. “That breeze is one of the first signs, the thick mana is another—since all the qi is being used for the final touches of the trial—and the sudden addition of multiple candidates is the greatest tell. My guess is someone will get whisked away in the next two days or so…”
Just when Fillan was about to ask Chatty McChatterbox for more details regarding the trials themselves, he discovered with amazement that the moss underneath his ass and feet began squirming intently, before violently throwing him directly towards the mushroom-filled ceiling.
With a poof, only the echoing sound and some free falling spores showed any trace of Fillan Strand ever being in that room.
“Not even half an hour; he wasn’t here for more than half an hour before a trial was ready for him…the world is so unfair,” grumbled Bull Head.