“Should I just kill myself then? If there's no way to progress and I don't have a cultivation technique, then what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Sure, I can continue to devise magical spells but there's no real point to it if I can't use my newly acquired talent—yeah let me just kill myself.”

“Let me go out with a bang. This new Karmic Reincarnation Eye revels in excessive amounts of karma, so if I end up causing a big explosion, inadvertently killing a lot of people, then that should contribute significantly to my repertoire of powers.”

“Might as well see what all the fuss around not fusing qi and mana is about.”

Since the expected and desired result was the complete annihilation of himself and everything around him, there was no need to proceed with caution or apprehension.

Since this roadblock appeared like this, he might as well try fusing his blood-qi with mana-soul-liquid.

“But is blood-qi still qi, and mana-soul-liquid still mana?” Fillan wondered at the last minute. “I have never heard of anyone cultivating with blood-qi, even though it’s theoretically a superior substance, while also being perfectly tailored to the practitioner.”

“God damnit, now I have doubts.”

Doubtful or not, since he made up his mind, he’d go through with the plan without hesitation.

The first step in the plan was fusing mana into the turbulent soul-liquid, something that was bound to be more difficult than blood-qi fusion.

Since the soul-liquid was, for all intents and purposes, just a free flowing independent liquid coming from an area of the soul where his conscious mind held no jurisdiction, gaining a good grasp of its flow was proving to be an arduous task.

When Fillan finally found the rhythm of the soul-liquid, it would spontaneously change, growing either faster, slower, or a completely unpredictable combination of the two. It seemed incoherent, deprived of all sense and logic.

Fillan, since he didn’t really care if all the procedures were performed to perfection, as he was going to die and all, tried to forcefully shove mana into the soul-veins and induce fusion, whether it be on equal terms or not.

Yet the only result that met him was an unfathomable tearing sensation erupting from every single morsel of his being.

He overloaded the capacity of the thin soul-veins, nearly causing them to rupture. This allowed a small part of his already lacking soul-liquid to reenter the free-flowing soul-soup, leaving him with even less material, unprecedented pain, and no idea of how to proceed.

“Damn it. Damn it. Damn it! How could this be so fucking painful? You’re telling me I can cut off the index finger of my soul and feel nothing, I can drive needles of mana in and out of my soul with no issue, but these veins, which don’t have a semblance of nerve structures, can cause this kind of pain? Where is the logic? Where is the sense? Where is the sanity?”

“It also didn’t fucking work!” Fillan exclaimed with vexation. ”Weren’t I supposed to have an inherent control of ‘blood and soul’? It would sure be nice if that decided to show up.”

“God, I feel like I can’t think straight!” he shouted in pure, unrestricted annoyance. “It’s like my mind is being pressed underneath a blanket of stupidity; I don’t understand it!”

“If I’m supposed to have an inherent control of my soul, then maybe this soul-liquid isn’t considered part of me?”

“But if that’s the case, then wouldn’t the same apply to blood? Unless…it has to be produced by the body for it to be acknowledged.”

“That would mean I need soul-marrow to produce soul-liquid, and to do that I would need soul-bones. Just the ultra-thin soul-veins already required seven years of continuous work and effort before completion. If I were to make bones and marrow, I’d be sitting in this cave for centuries.”'

With no options seeming very appealing or fitting, Fillan was left stuck at a crossroads: should he continue with “humanizing” his soul, or just get this life over with and focus on his body tempering?

“The mages on Graaryll, at least the human ones, are so pathetic; there’s no way they have something that can help me out, right?”

“I’ve already scoured most of the important books and scrolls in Garth, Tsunta, and Truhan, if Tella had anything to offer, it could definitely be found there. Searching high and low for random caves and pocket-spaces would be banal, which means I either have to go to Argoria or Pengyro…”

The world of Graaryll very simply consists of five continents: Tella, where humans dominate. Pengyro, where dragons rule. Argoria, the land of light and dark elves. Brothril, home to dwarves. And Emithy, breeding ground for beasts.

Of the five continents, the dragons and elves are considered superior in magic, while humans and dwarves are insufficient in talent and accomplishments. As such, if there is valuable magical knowledge to be gleaned from this barren planet, it would be found on Argoria or Pengyro.

“I can do pretty much whatever I want on Tella since most humans are focused on body tempering and cultivation, but if I show up wantonly and some Dominator fucks me in the face, then I just wasted a ‘valuable’ opportunity.”

Fillan was confident that, even if he couldn’t beat cultivators in a confrontation, they would—considering only his magic—not be able to kill him, nor stop him from leaving. If he considers his various different law comprehensions, combined with his new law talent, he was certain none of them could even remotely hurt him.

Dominators, however, were vastly different. They rule the world with an iron fist, disallowing non Dominators from utilizing spells, and rendering use of laws worthless. Only another Dominator, or an unfathomably powerful and talented cultivator would be able to fight against them.

Fillan might be blessed by the universe’s laws or whatever, but that matters dick when he still hasn’t established his law palace. All of this is to say, Fillan would dare lord arrogantly above the masses, but become a sheep in front of a Dominator.

While humans only had two Dominators currently alive, the dragons had a minimum of thirteen confirmed, and the elves another nine. And there is no way these powerhouses would be welcome to give their secrets to some random human.

“Metamorphosis could work since it’s technically a permanent change, but I just don’t know if someone so powerful can detect the use of a spell or not. If they can’t, then great, if they can, then I’m fucked.”

After some further debating, Fillan quickly decided that since he was planning to die anyway, that it didn’t matter how this turned out. It would be awesome if he gets access and finds something useful, but it wouldn’t be a tragedy if he was discovered.

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The aspect of accumulating more negative karma was also pretty easily discarded by him, since he could technically do that whenever, and however much, he pleased.

“I don’t think I make for a very good dragon, so I’ll visit Argoria,” he decided. “Elves also actively perform research and develop their craft, while dragons are arrogant and stubborn; I’d probably only get some spell patterns from them, which is not at all what I need.”

Elves on Graaryll are divided into two camps: light and dark. While the only biological difference is hair color, their attributes and interests are wildly different.

Light elves are pure yang in nature, even the women, while they tend to focus on radiant magic and the improvement of their bodies. The dark elves, on the other hand, are pure yin in nature, and tend to focus on darkness and improving their souls.

Due to this, both sides also tend to loathe the other, causing countless conflicts over the ages. However, it’s not all bad, as the rivalry has spurred a deep seated urge for improvement, to become better than the other.

As such, Fillan’s destination and transformation were pretty obvious.

With a flick of his wrists, two blood red domes appeared over Fillan’s ears as continuous shifting and wiggling could be discerned from within.

Elves were anatomically similar to humans, with only their ears being different, taking on a pointy shape rather than round. And, since Fillan’s hair was already pitch black, there was nothing more for him to change.

“It’s said that elves tend to live simply, choosing to wear drab clothes and live in simple homes, but surely there must be some outliers who don’t conform, right?”

“If I show up in this outfit, I think it can only strengthen the belief that I’m a true and honest elf, only with an eccentric personality. Surely they would not expect humans to try and infiltrate them without doing their research…”

With a slash of his wrist, a dark crack in space appeared before Fillan. Its insides were completely indecipherable, while its rim radiated a gray hue. It made for a pretty domineering image, which was exactly what he wanted.

Fillan had to establish himself as powerful, but equally opulent. The elves, Dominators or not, had to decide with a glance that he was someone impressive, that way, entering their libraries and vaults would be easier.

The elves supposedly are very frivolous with their sharing of knowledge amongst their group, with only the very fine details of certain spell patterns or discernments being hidden from the public to give themselves some trump cards.

This would give Fillan an easy time with tons of leeway. Unless they require verification or documentation of any kind first, that is.

“Oh, wait! Maybe I should try out that ‘karmic pressure’ and get a sinister air to me…Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Focusing on the area between his brows, Fillan, like he was waking up for the first time, revealed a slit that was slowly opening wider and wider, until it reached almost a third of a normal eye’s volume.

Calling it an eye was not really an apt description, as it was more like an amalgamous shadow that never ceased squirming. Yet, no matter how much it squirmed and seethed, it was unable to leave its confines.

Almost as if resigned to its fate, the shadow slowly turned perfectly still, like a quiet lake underneath the moonlight. And the very second the last tiny river-like tendril settled down, an indescribable, unfathomable, incomprehensible pressure erupted into the surroundings.

Everything within thousands of kilometers became blanketed by this pressure. Trees trembled, the earth cracked, the sky wept, the beasts howled, and the humans prostrated.

No matter whether it was alive or not, all that was put underneath this pressure turned insignificant, like they were met by an undefeatable predator.

Fillan himself, however, was completely unaware of the extent of the pressure. He knew for certain that it was radiating, but couldn’t quite discern it.

It was almost like his back. He knew it was there, but could only ever get a grasp of how it looks with the help of instruments or other means, never with his own two eyes.

Unless he found someone or something to measure the pressure, he would never know how powerful it was.

Of course, he guessed it would be pretty impactful considering the negative karma from his previous life singlehandedly got the entirety of Graaryll destroyed by a giant needle. But it didn’t really matter to him, granted it helped him with his endeavors.

With no more distractions or needs, Fillan set foot in the unnecessary and domineering spatial crack.

…

While the human continent of Tella stretched all the way from the north-east down to the south-east, the continent of Argaria was more like a giant island in comparison, sitting leisurely in the south-west.

The distance between the two continents is considerable, something that has limited their exposure to each other, and therefore also helped cultivate cultural xenophobia.

But other than culture and size, there were no real topographical differences between the two.

When Fillan appeared over the raging waves of the ocean, he damn near thought he miscalculated the “teleportation”.

If not for sensing the considerable span of his journey, he’d truly have been fooled.

“Note to self, if anyone uses spatial cracks to travel they’re just doing it for appearances,” Fillan thought seriously. “Maintaining that shit was several times more taxing and consuming than just teleporting.”

“But damn, I knew beforehand that Argaria looks similar to Tella, yet the way elves were referred to in books and by people made me expect something…more. Their settlements might be where the difference lies.”

The side Fillan appeared on naturally belonged to the dark elves, and for fear of their defense systems blasting him to high heavens, he still decided to appear over the ocean rather than the middle of a city.

Humans, in their hubris, naturally tried to attack the elven continent once. They sent an army consisting of powerful cultivators one million strong, yet they never even saw a single elf before being almost completely decimated.

The elves, with the help of all their past and current Dominators, managed to turn a truly magnificent spell into a large functioning formation running purely on ambient mana. There is no need for anyone to operate it, nor does it need maintenance.

The only time it is ever changed is when a new Dominator is born. They are then obligated to integrate their signature spell into the formation, thus strengthening it over time.

Fillan would rather not be perceived as an enemy by that thing, and therefore decided to approach respectfully.

“Shit, why did the waves calm down!” Fillan thought as adrenaline spread throughout his basically mortal body. “Noooooo…”

Despite acting like an idiot, and bracing for swift death, nothing happened even after a full minute passed.

“Huh? Is it because I’m an ‘elf’?”

“I can clearly see that the waves are completely still with me as the center point, so why is nothing happening?”

Fillan quickly used Float to move away from Argaria, hoping putting a distance between them would relax the taught formation.

However, the ocean waves behind him began to calm as he approached them.

“What the fuck is the point of locking on to me with the formation, making the ocean calm with me as the center, if it’s not going to attack? This doesn’t make any sense, and I don’t feel any reduction in the ambient mana.”

One of the few things humans know about the continental formation of the elves is that it sucks the ocean air dry of all its mana, no matter how minimal the use of the formation is.

It makes up for this by spitting out the mana it didn’t use after finishing its task, but never before.

“Is it not the formation targeting me? Is it someone else? Was it the spatial crack looking too cool? Is it my clothes? Is it a Dominator playing with me after seeing through my disguise?”

Dozens of questions ran through Fillan’s head at enormous speeds, all without answers.

“Maybe they don’t appreciate the sinister pressure coming from my Karmic Reincarnation Eye…”

Not willing to take any risks now that he was here, Fillan simply closed his third eye, making the almost boundless pressure disappear.

With a swoosh, the ocean waves below reacted like water thrown into boiling oil, exploding in every which way. Waves taller than mountains appeared amongst massive geyser-like water jets.

Fillan appeared like a tiny weed amongst giants, looking totally meek and helpless.

Of course, this was just a matter of size, none of the waves could ever hurt him physically.

“So it was the sinister pressure! I don’t know why the fuck it would react like that, but good riddance. My wanting to look intimidating nearly got me sent straight into half a day ago.”

“But did they upgrade their formation or something? Why didn’t the mana density change at all?”

There were too many aspects of the situation Fillan didn’t comprehend, naturally because he was ignorant to the truth. The waves simply calmed down due to the karmic pressure he was flaunting everywhere.

Of course, waves are not living creatures, nor do they have any form of spirituality, but the world does. It has a very rudimentary and rigid “thought” process, and can, in times of need, exert control over itself. So, in the areas it was met with the fear of death and destruction, it simply tried to hide its presence and not to offend the source of danger.

It is a natural survival mechanism that could be useful in situations where outsiders force their way from the upper realms to the lower realm. Those people are often very haughty and easy to antagonize, so learning to act prudently was a must for any infant worlds in the universe.

“It’s water under the bridge anyway, let’s go get this shit over and done with. I’ll be happy if I can find even a sliver of a hint for what I need to do.”