The Murim world was a strange mix of Chinese Wuxia and Xianxia in terms of the power ceiling. There were no universe-splitting sword techniques, but it was certainly higher than the barely–above-human feats of Wuxia. I think Murim was comparable to this world’s ceiling, and considering that, it wasn’t an exaggeration when I said learning Cultivation will double their powers.
In hindsight, I had the question: shouldn’t cultivating to the next stage push one’s Levels to the next stage as well? Somehow, it didn’t do that. Despite having [8,290 Qi], I was still Level 42. That was what allowed this ‘cheating’ to work. I could have Qi in the hundred thousand, therefore becoming a Martial God, and yet be considered Level 1 by the system.
That is the best part. I watched the two of them sitting and circulating their energy using the pattern I had taught them earlier. The room grew hotter on Solara’s side and cooler on Lilian’s. It was an odd scene.
Lilian and Solara were far from newbies if their mana amount was considered. Since they already had that much energy, it wouldn’t take much time for them to grow into martial artists.
Solara, for example, had somewhere around 3,500 Mana despite being Level 28. Her bloodline granted her more mana than usual. If my calculations weren’t incorrect, that amount of energy was what a Second Class Martial Artist had. So… if she circulated it for a few days in the method I provided her with, her body—cells, bones, tendons, and organs— would grow tougher. Enough that her body will be considered Second Class.
Solara’s Mana Core was outside her heart, making her a [Knight]. Of course, the term Knight here was very vague. In this context, it was the term for any fighter class. Most Lifestyle Class people, such as [Farmer] or [Baker], also had their Mana Core outside their hearts. Solara’s core made her a physical fighter, which naturally made her body tougher than a Mage. However, from what I’d noticed, it wasn’t an active effect. In the sense that if a 5th Ascension Knight’s mana ran low or dried out totally, his body would be incredibly weak. Not as much as a normal man’s, but close.
On the other hand, martial artists circulated their qi to advance to the next stage of immortality and, therefore, permanently raise their bodies to the next stage. On top of that, depending on what martial arts they learn, the benefits could be even more intense.
It was an odd difference. After all, people of this world also [Ascended] stage by stage. So it’d be alright to assume that their strengthened body will remain so, even without Qi. However, that wasn’t true. Even a 9th Ascension Knight would wear the heaviest armor, while barely any man in Murim cared for armor.
Perhaps a body’s growth-per-ascension was less than in Murim? Or maybe a body here was more reliant on mana if it wanted to tap into its higher limits? I do believe that this world has more energy than Murim, so it’d make sense for people here to evolve in this manner. Also, maybe the system also mattered. Maybe the ‘hidden stats’ applied more easily if Mana could be used as a medium?
In the end, I had no idea.
I only knew it worked for me and that it’d work for them too. It worked on both Knight types and Mage types. So in the future, I’d be able to help Nebula as well if she joined me. I think she will… No, I’ll make her.
I leaned against the wall and watched the two girls sweat on my floor. They’d been at it for hours, and finally, Solara’s eyes fluttered open, and she gasped. Energy exploded in the air for a moment as the room trembled.
I rushed to her as she fell to the side, catching her before she could fall to her side. “There. Are you alright?”
“A-ah, yes…” she heaved out a breath. “It was intense. But I do feel stronger now.” She looked down on her fist, clenching it. The grip looked like it could tear apart steel.
Solara had always been physically stronger than others due to her phoenix blood, but it wasn’t as much as a dragon hybrid or others. Phoenix’s main focus wasn’t strength, after all. It was her flames. However, it seemed her strength would catch up to a dragon-hybrid in no time.
Maybe it already had.
“Great,” I smiled and looked at Lilian. She was still cultivating, relaxed, and sitting in a lotus position, her back straight and tight. Then she heaved out a breath and opened her eyes. She looked much calmer than Solara. “How do you feel?”
“I feel… great~!” She cheered. “A little tired though. Would it always be tiring, young master?”
Turned out she felt great because she felt stronger than before, not because it wasn’t tiring. I shook my head, “No. When I provide you with specialized cultivation methods, you’ll be able to absorb the mana in the air. That’d take care of the fatigue. What you two were doing today was circulating your existing mana to strengthen your body.”
“Oh.”
The high-class circulation method I provided them was something that I had to edit quite a bit since it was designed for a core in the lower abdomen and not in the heart. It was really troublesome since the initial energy channels were different. The only reason I managed to modify it at all was that the memories of the Heavenly Demon that were growing more ‘clear’ in my head.
Initially, what was only a general idea of martial arts now showed more specific techniques if I searched. It was a jackpot.
“Will the technique be from your cult?” Solara raised her hand and asked. I nodded. That made her frown in worry. “But then won’t we leak demonic mana too?”
“No, don’t worry about that. Not all ‘demonic techniques’ from Murim use demonic qi. To be with only Demon God Mara’s reflections, the Heavenly Demons, learn techniques that use true demon qi. You guys will only use qi that circulated in reverse in your energy channels. It’d be painful though, but your techniques will be powerful. Although later on, I do plan to teach you some true demon techniques suitable for a shadow wolf and a dark phoenix.” I said, and they looked relieved. They didn’t seem worried about the pain part that I mentioned.
But honestly, they should be.
“How much have you refined your body? As in, how much more do you think you can refine your body using your mana?” I asked.
“Like two or three of these sessions, and I should be done,” Lilian said, and Solara agreed with a nod.
“Same here.”
“I see.” I could only say how strong they were after they finished. Regardless, this was good progress.”Alright, get up and go take a shower,” I said, covering my nose with my hand. “If you guys haven’t noticed yet, your bodies are covered in black tar,” I said and watched the two girls blink.
They looked at each other’s bodies, gasped, covered their chests for some reason, and rushed to the washroom.
****
Since I'd started teaching cultivation to my cult members, I needed resources. From now on, the cult would require a stream of expenses. So I have to figure out a way to make money. A lot of it.
I cleared my head of my thoughts as I pushed open the door and entered the manor that was quite silent, almost suspiciously so, for a building on the academy grounds.
It was a lavish estate, an expensive villa nestled beside a lake, away from the academy’s usual noise. The air felt untouched here like the whole place had been crafted just to preserve the calm, and yet there wasn’t a single attendant or guard in sight.
I took another step, and a smooth and unhurried voice called out from somewhere within, “I’ll be right there.” The voice belonged to Amelia, as did this manor.
I drifted further in, taking in the place. The room was flooded with light that streamed through wide windows that looked over the lake, casting a soft glow over everything. The room had a refined air, the kind that says “wealth” without bothering to say it loudly. That wasn’t surprising, as it was the abode of the Chancellor. Then something else caught me. A smell drifting faintly but distinct—too foreign so for a place like this.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
I almost shivered.
Is that chicken nuggets?
Before I could put it together, Amelia appeared in the doorway, balancing a tray with a small dish. Her expression was an odd mix of seriousness and ease. She was wearing an apron over casual clothes, her hair pulled back, and her eyes glinting with something close to amusement as she crossed the room. She set the tray on the table between us, the dish still steaming.
I raised an eyebrow, taking in her getup. She caught it, of course, but she just gestured to the chair across from her.
“Sit,” she said simply, and so I did, the food filling the air with a smell I hadn’t expected. She took her own seat opposite me, nudging the dish closer with a look that said she wasn’t letting me off without trying it.
“Go ahead,” she insisted, dipping a piece herself into the dark sauce. “It’s something from my homeland, the Saharan deserts. I figured, seeing as it’s your first time visiting my house, it’s only proper. Been a while since I had someone over. Especially a young man…” Her lips curved slightly, and then she blinked, feigning surprise. “Ah, I forgot that you’re already spoken for.”
I raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. I looked down at the chicken nuggets. There was Ramen in this world, in a nearby shop, so chicken nuggets weren’t that surprising, in truth. I grabbed a piece slowly.
The first bite hit with a burst of spices, smokey and warm, with a richness that lingered. I nodded, impressed despite myself. She raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the reaction.
“Mhm! Not bad,” I said, and she shrugged, the slightest hint of satisfaction creeping in.
“Back home, food is passed down,” she added, almost as if thinking out loud, as she reached out a hand, holding a nugget and feeding it to me. I bit into it while maintaining eye contact with her purple eyes. “...I miss those days. It’s been a long time since I’ve last been there.”
The atmosphere changed slightly. A half-smile hung on her lips, a bit of mystery in her eyes. I wondered if I should say anything, but I couldn’t keep my curiosity. “Your family,” I asked, “is from the Erebian Empire?”
“The Saharan Deserts can hardly be considered a part of Erebia. It’s simply because the King of the Saharan Deserts couldn't care less about dealing with paperwork that it’s considered a part of Erebia,” she corrected, her gaze drifting far off for a second. “The Gold Dragon bloodline goes back to the deserts, even before the empire had names or borders.” Her voice lowered, deepening with a gravity that hadn’t been there before. “It’s… become a part of me. I didn’t like that place in the beginning, I liked to spend more time with my mother, who was a human. I feared my father and hated the ruthless Gold Dragons.”
“Sounds like a story.”
“It is,” she smiled. It taught me the truth of the world—power. It also taught me much about the Holy Knights. " Her tone turned grim as she looked away, her eyes shadowed. She seemed to be shifting through memories too distant yet too sharp to have dulled with time.
Silence hung between us, and I waited for her to continue. In a quiet voice, she spoke. “Iskandaar, I need you to understand something. You’ve dealt with a Holy Knight only because you were lucky. You don’t know them.”
Her tone had changed—turning firm and unyielding. I put down my nugget, pushing it further into the sauce, catching the glint of something unsettling in her expression.
“They’re dangerous,” she said, her voice hardening. “More than you might think. The churches are not to be underestimated, nor are their knights. They strike first and ask questions later. They raze towns over heresy, over the mere suggestion of darkness.”
“I realized that during the encounter with Sir Likard,” I said, and she scoffed.
“Barely. The United Church is considered the headquarters of the twelve churches. It’s located in the Holy Nation of Celestara. You’ve heard of it, right? The floating country that’s called the Island of Ascension. During the recruiting season for Holy Knights, an alarming number of people have reported that screams of children withering in pain danced down from the island flying over their heads.”
She paused as though she were choosing her next words carefully. “I learned about the cruelty of the Holy Knights in person. I was fourteen, I think, when I first saw them.” Amelia’s gaze fixed somewhere distant as though peering into the ghost of a memory. “I’d gone to visit my grandmother, my maternal one, who lived by a small oasis just outside a desert village. It was a remote place, quiet, with little more than sand dunes and rocky crags for miles in every direction.”
She drew a breath, voice lowering. “That day, I saw the Church for what it truly is. I was fetching water from the well, and… they rode in. Rows of them, all in golden, helmets gleaming like mirrors under the sun. They called for the village elders, demanding answers. Someone had reported ‘demonic rituals’—some old grudge probably, a petty village feud, but the accusation was enough. I’ll never forget what happened next.”
I frowned, putting the heavy-dipped piece of nugget in my mouth. A shadow crossed her face as she continued. “The villagers tried to explain it was nothing, just superstition. The elders pleaded with them to believe, but they weren’t listening. The knights didn’t care; they wanted one thing—a display of punishment. I watched them line up the eldest women and men, saying dark forces had touched them. They made the youngest—the children—stand and watch. They burned them in pits of holy fire, making them confess until their last breath. And when they finally left, that village was nothing but ash.”
Her voice had dropped to a whisper, her fists clenched. “The smell… it lingered in the sand for weeks, even after they’d gone. That was the Church’s brand of justice.”
She looked up, meeting my gaze. Her expression was closed, hardened by the weight of that memory. “They don’t forgive, Iskandaar. They don’t listen. You might think you can escape it, that their eyes won’t follow you here, but their reach stretches further than you know. They’ve made it their holy mission to eradicate any ‘darkness’ they come across, and their methods are ruthless. You can’t afford to take them lightly.” She added, “I’m incredibly happy that you survived this encounter, but… please make sure never to do something that’d catch their attention again.”
The weight of her words hung in the air, and I felt the edges of her memory settle like a cold blade against my own awareness. The Holy Knights were too fanatical to be ‘holy’.
“I’m sorry to hear that about your grandmother,” I said, and she blinked before the seriousness in her expression melted, and she giggled.
“Oh, no, don’t worry about that. I screamed when they tried to harm her, and then my father came flying over,” she said. “He didn’t want his mother-in-law dead. His wife would have killed him. And…” Her gaze glinted. “It might sound arrogant as he’s my father, but when the King of Gold Dragons wants something, nobody can stop him.”
I stared at her for a moment, realizing that the Vampiric Father wasn’t wrong about her identity. Daughter of Sahrazzakhan. “...Ah, the sweet smell of power,” I smiled at her, pretending to hide my shock. Regardless, the intensity of her identity meant that the weight of her warning was heavier. “So you’re saying they’re not done here with me?”
“They’ve decided to step back,” she replied, her expression easing slightly, “but only for now. You’d do well to remember that. You may think you know this world, but you’re still learning. You’re just a boy in the end.”
I didn’t think so. If Sahrazzakhan could have anything he wanted using his outmatched strength, why couldn’t I? Of course, I didn’t say that out loud. That’d sound too arrogant when spoken out loud. Still, I had to clear up something. I hadn’t mentioned this before.
“Likard,” I replied after a pause. “He came after me. He wanted me dead; that was the intention behind each of his swings. Worse, he was after someone else in my team too.” I hesitated, not saying any names, but she could figure it out if she wanted to. “All because he saw something dark in us. It gave me no choice. He called us demons, and he tried to kill us. The only way out of it was if I killed him in return. So I did.”
For a moment, her face hardened, something unreadable flashing in her eyes, but then it softened. She sighed, “Well, I’m just saying that you should be careful.” Her voice was soft, steady. “Potential can be a dangerous thing to waste, young man.”
I leaned back, letting out a laugh to shift the tone. “The best I can do is stay clear of alleyways in dark robes,” I said, watching her lips twitch.
When we’d finished the food, I rose, giving a slight nod in thanks. She stood as well, a strange light in her gaze that seemed both amused and something else.
“Take care of yourself, Iskandaar,” she said, and I nodded.
As I reached the door, I paused. A thought struck me. “Ah, one last thing,” I said, turning. “Let’s say I create a new alchemical pill that boosts physical strength for a moment. How does one put something like that on the market?”
“Huh?”
****
It was sudden, but while listening to her story and eating chickens, I'd figured out a way to make money. Something from another world, just like those nuggets.
The Surging Blood Pill.
It was a simple yet ingenious creation from the Heavenly Demon Cult. By forcing qi to flood the muscles and bones, it temporarily boosted physical strength and speed, converting qi directly into raw power for a short period.
The only downside? A wave of exhaustion once the effect wears off. That, of course, wasn’t permanent. In this world humming with magic and monsters, that was a small price to pay for a potential lifesaver. Such a pill might as well revolutionize this world.
Back in the cult, these pills were quite common. The Shamans loved them because they could wield spells while still punching like a beast. Martial artists loved it because it turned them into unstoppable forces, if only for a few minutes.
The [Mages] and [Knights] of this world would also love a pill like that, I was sure. It could tilt the scales in battles, save lives, and make me some coin. Win-win.
The Demon Cult couldn’t run on my pocket money that the Count gave me, I needed a stable income source, and this could be a good start.
There was a single problem, however. I needed someone to help me make the pill, for I lacked many of the memories, and also not all the ingredients were available in this world. Someone like the Forsaken Alchemist would manage to recreate the pill with ease, but I wasn’t him. I needed a helping hand.
“Hello,” I greeted Mirella the maid when she opened the door. “Is Nebula in there?”
A Blood Mage seemed like the perfect candidate for that.