Without a moment’s hesitation, Armad summoned the full extent of his abilities and activated the formidable power of his eyes. With a focus as sharp as a blade, he directed his profound cultivation years into one of the ten pol strings arrayed before him. These strings, delicate and fine, appeared so fragile that it seemed as though a puff of wind might carry them off into oblivion. In the future, they might become more robust, but for now, their slender form was of no concern to Armad. They shone with a radiant brilliance, their color a pure and striking white. Despite the tumult and disarray of the battlefield around him, these strings defied the very essence of chaos, remaining motionless in the air, as if they were part of a painted scene rather than the tangible reality. These strings were responsive only to the touch of Armad’s cultivation; to his adversaries, they were invisible strands, while to Armad, they were as clear as day.
As Armad channeled his cultivation inside the string, the string began to animate, stretching and growing in length. Before this infusion of power, the string had been no longer than Armad’s hand. But now, it rapidly extended, snaking its way through the air toward the chest of Armad’s opponent. This growth was swift and purposeful, and without delay, the string pierced through the chest of the adversary as if the physical barriers of flesh, bone, and sinew were nonexistent.
In this extraordinary moment, a clarity of vision beyond anything Armad had experienced in his lifetime was bestowed upon him. He had never before perceived the inner core of a person with such stark vividness. The Wilberforce tribesmen, to which Armad belonged, possessed the ability to peer into the cores of others, yet their vision was obscured, never reaching the level of detail that Armad was witnessing now. They could gauge the level of cultivation within a human core, but the finer details, such as the presence of a demon or board in the core of a human, were beyond their sight.
Yet, what unfolded before Armad’s eyes transcended all previous limitations. He not only saw the core’s cultivation but also discerned an object within—a small, rusted sword, lying dormant in one sector of the core. It was as though Armad’s vision had pierced through layers of obscurity, allowing him to scrutinize every nook and cranny with impeccable precision.
One of the prevailing reasons behind the view that he was the feeblest scion of Emperor Ayrion’s bloodline was Armad’s apparent deficiency in seeing into the human core with the same lucidity as his siblings, who boasted the ability to perceive every nuance within it. However, mirroring the capabilities of the esteemed Wilberforce individuals, Armad did possess the aptitude to measure a person’s cultivation level meticulously. Yet, identifying demons and discerning the intricate patterns in the core remained a formidable challenge for him—a hurdle that his siblings navigated with ease.
Tales were often told of Prince Ikenga’s extraordinary gift, a talent that allowed him to perceive everything within a person’s core with unparalleled clarity since his earliest years. This ability set him apart and above many others within the imperial lineage.
It was speculated that Prince Armad might have been born with a diminished version of the Wilberforce vision, which could explain why the council had hesitated to bestow upon him the same degree of esteem and virtue as they did upon his peers. However, the events of this critical day were about to upend any preconceived notions, for Armad found himself able to see with unfettered clarity into the core of his current foe—there was not a single detail that eluded his gaze.
With deliberate intent, Armad directed his pol string toward his adversary, aiming to probe and understand the depth of the opponent’s cultivation. The pol string made contact with the cultivation essence of his adversary. At that moment, Armad braced his mind for the task at hand—to siphon and gauge the maximum amount of cultivation he could extract from his opponent.
The battle raged on, and in the thick of combat, the opponent launched an aggressive strike aimed squarely at Armad’s head. Armad, in a testament to his combat prowess, managed to divide his focus, maintaining awareness of the pol string while simultaneously confronting the immediate physical threat. He lifted his sword with both hands, a defensive maneuver born of necessity rather than choice, as there was no time left to dodge the rapidly approaching strike.
The impact that followed was more intense than Armad had braced for. The enemy’s weapon collided with Armad’s sword with such force that it sent his blade flying from his grasp. The adversary’s sword continued its deadly arc, seemingly unstoppable as it bore down towards Armad’s head. Yet, in the scant moments provided by the clashing of steel, Armad’s instincts and reflexes spared him from a fatal blow. With a swift side-step, the strike that was aimed to cleave his skull merely grazed his shoulder. A sonorous clang echoed, akin to metal striking dense stone, suggesting an unexpected toughness. Although the blow was powerful enough to sever his garment, leaving it in tattered halves, Armad’s skin remained unmarred—no wound, no blood, only the undamaged flesh as if protected by an unseen armor.
Although Armad bore no external marks of injury on his shoulder, yet deep within, he was acutely aware of a peculiar sensation: it felt as though the muscles lying beneath his skin had been split into separate entities.
At this moment, Armad’s focus was not solely on his physical sensations; he was intently engaged in the process of draining the cultivation from his adversary. The opponent, suspended in the air, was poised to unleash another powerful strike against Armad. However, he came to an abrupt halt, hovering motionlessly as confusion took hold. The initial sign of something amiss was an intense warmth spreading through his core. It quickly escalated to a sense of panic as the opponent realized his cultivation—accumulated over thousands of years—was rapidly diminishing.
For someone of his advanced cultivation level, spanning more than 30,000 years, each year was a cornerstone built upon countless experiences and insights into the deeper mysteries of cultivation. To lose even a single year was to feel a weakening in the very foundation of one’s power. Yet now, the opponent faced the horrifying fact that not one, but seven years of his cultivation had been stripped away in an instant.
This was not merely a minor setback; it was a profound assault on his very essence. The opponent’s initial shock gave way to a mix of emotions: disbelief, fear, and a growing realization of his vulnerability. He gazed upon Armad with a mixture of awe and horror, his eyes wide and mouth agape, as he grappled with the implications of what had just occurred.
It was common knowledge that members of the Wilberforce tribe were endowed with a unique ability—their elevated eyes were capable of extracting the cultivation from others. This power was legendary, but its use was considered impractical in the heat of battle due to the considerable time and concentration required to draw the cultivation out from its owner’s core. Only a handful of the Wilberforce, whose names were shrouded in secrecy, were known to possess the skill to perform this feat amidst the chaos of combat.
The capacity to use this skill on the battlefield was a game-changer. If the Wilberforce could harness it at will, their combat prowess would be unmatched, and their ascent to global supremacy would be all but guaranteed. Such was the fear this ability instilled in the hearts of other tribes, who would think twice before engaging the Wilberforce in direct conflict.
The opponent’s shock was compounded by the identity of his assailant. Prince Armad had been rumored to be the least powerful among the sons of Emperor Ayrion. If Prince Ikenga, known for his potent Wilberforce lineage, had been the one to extract seven years of cultivation, perhaps the opponent would have accepted his fate more readily. But Armad? The thought that this prince deemed the weakest, could possess such formidable power was both baffling and alarming.
As the opponent wrestled with his disbelief and the implications of his diminished power, he was struck by another wave of weakness—another seven years of cultivation were being siphoned off by Armad. The realization hit him like a physical blow, compelling him to stagger back a step, his composure shattered as though he had come face-to-face with a nightmarish apparition.
Initially, he had been under the impression that, from the very start of their confrontation, Armad had been attempting to leech off his cultivation base. It took a considerable amount of time before he recognized this belief as a misconception. He now saw the fallacy in his earlier thinking. As he recoiled, staggering in retreat, he felt an additional seven years’ worth of his hard-earned cultivation being forcibly extracted. In the span of a single encounter, he had lost 21 years of cultivation. The astonishment that had initially spread across his features was swiftly supplanted by sheer terror. He gritted his teeth in determination, understanding that even if today marked his end, he needed to defeat Armad and unveil the startling truths regarding the prince’s hidden capabilities.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Such an occurrence, where someone from the tribe of Wilberforce possesses the capacity to swiftly deplete another’s cultivation, is taken very seriously by the larger tribes worldwide. Typically, these tribes would convene in a council to deliberate on the appropriate response to such a threat. Their concern is far from unfounded; a single Wilberforce tribesperson endowed with this rapid siphoning ability could potentially bring about the ruin of their tribes, which is an intolerable prospect for the elders and leaders of these major tribes.
Historically, the Wilberforce tribe has seen its fair share of aggression from these larger clans. Time and again, these powerful factions have sent assassins with the intent of eliminating pivotal members of the Wilberforce lineage, such as this prince. While these actions have triggered numerous brutal confrontations, the larger tribes have not ceased in their aggressive tactics, demonstrating their unwavering commitment to neutralizing what they perceive as a significant threat.
One of the prominent leaders among the larger tribes was even quoted expressing their steadfast resolve. They would not permit the proliferation of influential individuals within the Wilberforce tribe who are capable of such rapid cultivation drainage. They recognized the dire implications: should these powerful individuals become numerous, it would only be a matter of time before they could individually undertake missions to decimate the larger clans. Hence, the reason why the espionage activities of the Wilberforce tribe within the empire are legion. Conversely, the empire of Wilberforce also plants its spies among the larger tribes. The rest
coexistence between these two entities is marked by necessity, not through mutual desire.
The ease with which Armad was depleting his cultivation led him to ponder these grave matters.
Was it possible that the Wilberforce empire was deliberately obscuring the true extent of the prince’s cultivation abilities? Were they circulating propaganda to portray him as the feeblest among the emperor’s progeny? Could this strategic misinformation serve as a protective measure to safeguard the prince from the predatory eyes of the larger tribes? As this realization struck him, anxiety overwhelmed his senses, and perspiration began to form on his forehead.
The important thing now is that now he has discovered this secret and he is the only one with the fortitude and right to eradicate Armad. While he may not receive accolades or tangible rewards from the world at large, the pride of his ancestors will be his guiding star. They will look upon his actions with honor, even if it means he meets his end in the wake of fulfilling his solemn duty to slay Armad. Success in this mission will not go unnoticed; the great tribes will certainly sing his praises for this act of valor.
The dynamics between the formidable tribes are subtle yet profound. Each tribe is acutely aware of the Wilberforce tribe’s might, which overshadows their own. Yet, they have come to the collective understanding that their strengths are insufficient when isolated. The Wilberforce tribe’s influence and power are on an inexorable rise, and without a united front, the names and legacies of the smaller tribes could face extinction. This shared threat has led to an alliance forged from necessity, transcending their deep-seated enmities and histories of warfare. When the time comes to stand against the Wilberforce, they put aside their differences and collaborate with a singular purpose.
At this critical juncture, the second-stage deva has resolved to make the ultimate sacrifice. The threat he perceives emanating from the Wilberforce tribe is so severe that he is willing to forego his very existence to prevent it. As he is making this decision, He lost another 14 years of cultivation to Armad, a part of a cumulative toll exceeding 35 years since Armad began his voracious consumption.
With eyes shut tight, he is engulfed by a maelstrom of terror and fear. The ruse perpetrated by Emperor Ayrion and his council is now laid bare; they have spread the notion that Prince Armad is the weakest among the emperor’s progeny. Such deceit is transparent in the face of Armad’s extraordinary ability to siphon cultivation at such a prodigious rate. Only a select few in the empire possess such power—commanders within the King’s Legion, esteemed members of the emperor’s council, the emperor’s kin, and the emperor himself, along with a scant number of others throughout the Wilberforce domain. The big tribes are well informed about each individual who bears this rare ability; their surveillance is relentless and all-encompassing.
Yet, Armad’s rapidly growing capability to drain cultivation has somehow eluded the scrutiny of the tribes. Should he continue to ascend in power unchecked, the tribes may soon find themselves facing a cultivator of unparalleled brutality. The second-stage deva, acutely aware of the precipice upon which they stand, is determined not to let this potential calamity unfold. Now, presented with a chance to alter the course of the future, he is prepared to surrender an additional 10,000 years of his cultivation—a staggering sacrifice—to assassinate Armad.
His body began to emanate a brilliant light; his cultivation was not just active, it was burning, his power levels escalating with each passing moment. There exists a profound distinction between merely utilizing one’s cultivation to execute an attack and the act of burning one’s cultivation as fuel for an assault. When you harness your cultivation for an offensive move, there is a possibility to replenish it afterward. However, choosing to burn your cultivation for an offensive move means that it dissipates irretrievably, potentially causing irreparable harm to your core, or worse, its total annihilation. Despite the risks, the second-stage deva, in the heat of the moment, was ready to lay down his life; if his actions could lead to the downfall of Armad, he believed that his ultimate sacrifice would not have been made in vain.
Armad, perceptive as he was, had already pieced together the second-stage deva’s desperate gambit. His upbringing within the confines of the Palace of the Wilberforce tribe had been unique, to say the least. Although he was surrounded by council members, none took it upon themselves to mentor him. It was his mother who became his educator, his guide through the labyrinth of tribal lore and the annals of their history. Through her teachings, he had grown acutely aware of the simmering undercurrents of rivalry and distrust that flowed between his tribe and the other major tribes.
Before a pivotal examination that would reveal the extent of his cultivation prowess—or the lack thereof—his mother had imparted upon him a word of caution. She warned that if he were found to possess ‘elevated eyes’—a term used to describe an extraordinary perceptive ability combined with formidable cultivation power—he must go to great lengths to conceal his full capabilities. This was to shield him from the lurking dangers that such a revelation might attract.
His mother’s warnings were not without basis. She spoke of a dark time when the major tribes, in a rare show of unity, orchestrated the assassinations of several prodigious youths of the Wilberforce lineage. Among the fallen was the younger brother of King Aldaima, a youth whose eyesight was so profound that the combined tribes could not bear his existence. His untimely death at their hands ignited a war that raged for ten years, leaving scars and memories that neither time nor tears could wash away. In the end, the Wilberforce were forced to relinquish their thirst for vengeance, despite the egregious act of murder committed by those tribes.
This tragic past elucidated why, even though the Wilberforce harbored no overt animosity toward those tribes, many of their most powerful individuals still chose to veil their true strengths. It was a lesson in survival, a strategy to avoid becoming targets themselves.
Amid these tales and teachings, Armad’s mother secretly harbored the hope that her son would awaken to a mighty skill. But as fate would have it, Armad did not manifest the anticipated abilities. In a way, his lack of exceptional power shielded him from the predatory gaze of the major tribes. Without the burden of such a threat, as Armad stepped out into the wider world, he did so unscathed by the shadows that had once threatened to ensnare him.
Even in the bustling heart of the capital city, the name of Armad was beginning to slip into obscurity. The masses appeared apathetic, showing little interest in the tales of his exploits. Yet, there was a whisper of concern among those who knew: should the secret of Armad’s newly awakened skill be laid bare to the world, the level of danger he would face was inconceivable. His current adversary might remain ignorant, but the truth was that Armad’s eyes power had soared to such heights that within the vast Wilberforce Tribe, which boasted a population exceeding 40 million souls, fewer than a thousand individuals possessed the capability to harness the enigmatic power of Pol String.
The rarity of such a skill meant that if Armad’s opponent were to become aware of its true nature, the terror reflected in their eyes would surely deepen. With grim resolve, Armad had made a fateful decision: anyone who suffered the fate of being targeted by his Pol String would have to be eliminated. He was acutely aware that any failure to do so would result in the great tribes of his world initiating a relentless hunt for his life.
Despite the looming threats and the weight of his decisions, Armad’s inner joy remained untarnished. The awakening of the Pol String had not only enhanced his physical abilities; it had amplified his inner virtues to an unprecedented scale. If his virtue could once be quantified as a mere level of ten, it was now soaring at the dizzying heights of a hundred. With the enhancement of his Pol String, every skill he wielded now carried an increased potency, and the true extent of this augmentation was something Armad had yet to fully comprehend or measure.
Armad’s tactical mindset underwent a transformative shift. No longer was he content with simply extracting the essence of cultivation from his opponent; now he aimed to utterly annihilate it. He pondered deeply on the ramifications of such an act. What degree of injury would result from the destruction of an opponent’s cultivation? Would such a crippling blow leave them capable of continuing the battle, or would it spell their definitive defeat?
The Pol String that resided within the core of his adversary, once a subtle instrument for the extraction of cultivation, now shone with a menacing brilliance. It was as if the Pol String itself was anticipating the moment of its explosive unleashing, a harbinger of the devastation it was about to wreak upon those who would dare to challenge the might of Armad.