Grandpa Vremya’s eyelids trembled. His eyes were closed, and his legs were crossed in meditation. Three days had passed, and with his understanding of his body, he knew his life was on the verge of ending. It was time for him to finish the last steps of his breakthrough. Even though the strength limit of the world wasn’t very high, the steps to establishing a foundation were still well known. The initial steps involved creating the spirit lake within the dantian. After the spirit lake was established, a spiritual art had to be engraved at the bottom of the lake. The engraving of the art was extremely important as it determined the future of one’s cultivation. The Moon Lotus Cultivation Technique was an ice-based one, and as such, when a disciple established their foundation, they always engraved a symbol of ice at the bottom of the lake. Sometimes it was a snowflake, sometimes it was an icicle. There was even an elder with a depiction of a penguin.
As for what Grandpa Vremya was going to engrave, he already knew from the day he was born. Images of black holes appeared in his mind. As a primordial god who had fought at the beginning of time, he had seen Gravitat slaughter titans with black holes. Vremya didn’t see much since he and Kosmos had gone separate ways from the god of gravity, but what he saw, he’d never forget. As the images in his mind appeared over and over, a black dot formed at the bottom of his spiritual lake. At first, it was just a dot, but then, as Grandpa Vremya continued to imagine more black holes, the dot widened until it was the size of a fist, then a plate, then a house. It continued to expand until it threatened to swallow the whole lake. Only when the darkness reached the edge of the spiritual lake did it stop growing, and at that moment, Grandpa’s Vremya’s eyes shot open. Success!
The cave trembled, and the air shook. Spiritual energy gushed into Grandpa’s Vremya body, filling in the spiritual lake. His dantian was like a vacuum, sucking in spiritual energy without pause. His hair, which had mostly fallen out, grew back in long strands. The roots grew dark, but before his hair could turn black, Grandpa Vremya grunted and suppressed the color change, forcing his hair to stay gray. The thought of having hair the same color as the stinky dog’s fur displeased him. His body, which was scrawny and resembled a skeleton, grew in size. Muscles bulged, causing his skin to stretch taut. If it weren’t for the fact his hair was gray, he would’ve looked like a forty-year-old man. Grandpa Vremya clenched and unclenched his hands, gauging his newfound strength.
A blinding light entered the cave, and the opaque barrier that had been blocking the way disappeared. Rachel and Azalea were standing at the entrance, and upon seeing Grandpa Vremya’s revitalized appearance, Azalea’s face flushed red. A few elders’ heads peeked into the cave from the sides, getting a good view of Grandpa Vremya. “Congratulations on reaching foundation establishment,” Rachel said. “Coincidentally, your punishment is over, and you’re free to go.”
Grandpa Vremya nodded as the formations binding his arms and legs vanished. He approached the entrance of the cave and frowned. The elders were crowding around, preventing him from leaving. “I thought I was free to go.”
Rachel glared at the surrounding elders, and they scattered, making way. One of them coughed and cleared her throat. “Junior Vremya, out of curiosity, are you planning on apprenticing under any of us? There’s more to cultivation than cultivating. All high-ranked cultivators are skilled in at least one of the seven arts.”
Grandpa Vremya snorted. “Repeating myself is a waste of time, but I’ll have to say it again it seems. None of you are qualified to be my master—in anything.” He swept his arms out to the side and placed them behind his back, gripping his left wrist with his right hand. His back straightened as he marched out of the cave, walking past the dismayed elders without looking back.
“Maybe we should’ve kept him in there for longer?” an elder asked. “His attitude hasn’t changed at all.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Forget it,” Rachel said, staring at Grandpa Vremya’s back. “He’s like a piece of mold. He’ll grow perfectly fine on his own, but if we keep shining light on him to inspect his growth, we’ll be harming him instead.”
Grandpa Vremya’s eye twitched, but he didn’t turn back, steadily walking down the mountainside instead. A laugh burst out of Azalea’s mouth, but she quickly stifled it down and bade her farewells to the elders before chasing after Grandpa Vremya. She caught up in a flash and smiled at the no-longer-so-elderly man. “Congratulations on your freedom,” she said. “Now that you’re free, what are your plans? Continue cultivating in seclusion like you’ve been doing for the past hundred years?”
Grandpa Vremya shook his head. “I plan on attending the Frostwind Empire’s wine-brewing competition.”
Azalea’s eyes widened. “You know how to brew wine? When did you learn how to do that?” All this time in the sect, you were cultivating, so you must’ve learned before you joined….” Her eyes widened even further as she recalled the state of the Grandpa Vremya’s not-grandmother’s home during that one time she had visited. “What kind of things did you grandmother teach you when you were a child?”
Grandpa Vremya was about to refute Azalea’s theory, but the real explanation was too much of a hassle to deal with. Instead, he pretended as if he hadn’t heard anything. “If I get first place in the wine-brewing competition, I’ll be presented with an artifact set which should be suitable until I break through to golden core.”
“I know,” Azalea said. Her face flushed pink. “I’m one of the judges of that competition.”
Grandpa Vremya’s brows furrowed. “You? A judge? But you’re just a kid.”
Azalea’s expression darkened to the point of calling down thunder from the skies. “How am I a kid!? Is there something wrong with the way your brain works? I’m nearly a hundred years old!”
“Bah.” Grandpa Vremya snorted. “In river years, you’re still a baby.”
“Why are you measuring my age by river years!?” Azalea stomped her foot. “If I’m just a baby, then you’re an even bigger baby! In terms of seniority, I’m your senior sister!”
Grandpa Vremya ignored Azalea’s protests. “Putting aside your age for now, why are you a judge of a wine-brewing competition? I thought sect cultivators were supposed to stay away from worldly matters.”
“Really?” Azalea asked. “Do you seriously not know?”
Grandpa Vremya stared at Azalea. The woman was serious about wanting to know if he seriously knew or not. He knew a lot of things, and after going through all of them in his head, he still couldn’t figure out why Azalea looked so annoyed. Was she still upset about the age thing? “Should I know?”
“What’s my last name?”
Now, why the hell would he know that? He didn’t even know she had a last name. What kind of person had a last name? He didn’t need one, and he was a god. “I’m not very good with names,” Grandpa Vremya said. “To be fair, I still have no idea what the name of the old lady who raised me is.”
Azalea sighed and shook her head. She should’ve expected nothing else from the blockhead. Even if he had grown older, it wasn’t like he had matured. He spent the last hundred years nearly isolated, so how would he have a chance to grow mentally? “My last name is Frostwind.” Her eye twitched when Grandpa Vremya didn’t react. “I’m the first princess of the Frostwind Empire.”
“Oh,” Grandpa Vremya said. “I see.” He nodded and rubbed his chin. “Is it possible for you to get me the artifact set that’s granted to the winners of the competition? It’ll be much quicker that way.”
“No!” Azalea stomped her foot again. Luckily, the mountain path was tough enough to withstand even a golden-core cultivator’s strike. “Only one set is made every fifty years. I can’t just give it to you.”
Grandpa Vremya shrugged and glanced up at the sky. It was worth a shot. “I’ll just have to win then.” He turned his gaze onto Azalea’s face. “Since you’re judging the competition, should we go to the Frostwind Empire together?”
Azalea’s face flushed pink, and she almost took a step back. “Y-yes,” she said. “We can go together.”
“Perfect,” Grandpa Vremya said and turned his gaze back onto the sky. With a guide leading him, he’d have to spend even less effort. Everything was working out well for him; perhaps he was just lucky. Before his thoughts could wander to why he was lucky, he focused his attention back onto himself, performing introspection. The spiritual lake was still filling up with spiritual energy; considering its sheer size, there were still several days left before it’d be full. Although he couldn’t begin constructing his first foundational pillar until it was full, he could still doublecheck the outline and perform some calculations to save time in the future. Next to him, Azalea was staring at Grandpa Vremya’s face, lost in her own thoughts.