Another few weeks passed, and like always, he spent every waking hour helping around the farm and practising.

He was still getting used to his new knives and had not touched the daggers for anything other than looking at them.

Eventually, he would get around to them, but for now, he wasn't at that level and preferred to make incremental improvements.

Twinblade training was the same as ever, with more stances and movements designed to facilitate building muscle memory and the dexterity required to use such a weapon.

He was no longer hitting himself in the shins or falling on his face during flips, which was a significant improvement for him.

He constantly created and tested new mirages using his skill and discovered various applications and limitations. What he formed depended on the size and energy he input.

Creating a small group of insects to last for a while wasn't as taxing as creating a large shed. That would change if he created hundreds of smaller objects as he was always limited by the amount of essence, spirit and willpower, as these weren't infinite resources.

Spirit power from the soul he found acted much like the body as far as energy was concerned. If a person ate and breathed, your body would get energy. If someone ran around all day, they would use that up and probably faint due to exhaustion.

It was the same with the soul. Someone would cultivate and send essence into the soul aperture. This would make the soul stronger or recharge the spirit if it had been used, then make it stronger.

If someone used up all that energy, then it would cause problems. He had never reached the point yet, but he knew using too much spirit power would lead to injury and possibly death.

The one that he understood the least was willpower. Essence, you pulled from the surroundings and made it part of your core. You would then use those to strengthen the body and soul.

He had no idea where willpower was stored or what it was compared to the others. He knew it was within him and could call it up and felt a mental strain when using too much of it, but that was about it.

Asking others or reading through his growing collection of books yielded no results. Even though it was practically the first cornerstone of cultivating, information on it was sparse. It was thought of as something that was with no explanations. He suspected people at this level just didn't know.

There was still plenty of learning ahead of him, but he felt like he was in the race now, not standing on the sidelines. That was even more true today as it wouldn't be long until he broke through to the next tier of his realm.

He had still performed all his cycles in reverse and allowed his core and the medicines the herbalist provided at cost to offset the damage done and let him avoid the downsides of that method to a degree. He felt his soul power was far above where it should be for his age, but his body was lacking.

His 'Cultivation for Dummies' books listed the first few layers of power a cultivator would work towards, called realms. A realm would then be broken up into six tiers called minor realms.

His cultivation was currently in what was known as the mortal realm, and he was in the first tier of six, a complete noob.

He looked at his mother, sitting across the table from him as she ate. She was in the Mortal shedding realm, one large realm above him, in the sixth tier, and it wouldn't be long until she advanced to the next realm, the essence moulding realm.

Glancing to his left, he watched Marcus take a large bite of bread as he dipped it into the soup bowl on the table. Marcus was in the essence moulding realm at the second tier, and this was known as the body destruction phase.

The first realm he was in was considered tiers one through six, with nothing more complicated than that. When a cultivator advanced to the higher realms, that changed.

He knew Marcus was undergoing his destruction phase, which meant the man was weaker than he should have been. In this phase, your power drops, and you're more susceptible to injury. Eventually, he would come out the other side of it into the third tier, body rebirth. That was the realm the General was currently in and what was considered powerful in this area of the world.

It was also why the village was so caught off guard when the terror attacked. Fortunately, his core ignition had solved that issue, although he had no idea how he'd killed something so powerful by forming a core. He added that to the ever-growing list of mysteries that cultivation had.

Dragging himself away from his musings, he looked down at the paper covered in basic shapes of all kinds and nodded. He hadn't done anything more than practise his drawing skills when he had free time, but he felt he was close to attempting his inscription.

He still hadn't given up on his attempts at working smarter, not harder, but he knew that using his cheats would only hinder his path in the long run, so he didn't want to entirely rely on that.

"There's not a lot of work to do today, so you can use it as you please," Marcus said, looking over at him as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

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"I might go for a walk this morning to clear my head. I want to try my hand at drawing my first inscription today." He replied as he put his arms above his head and stretched.

"Alright, well, don't go too far." His mother said as she stood up and opened the wooden flaps they used as windows.

"I won't," He promised as he stood up, grabbed his fur coat and walked outside, deciding to take it easy on his walk.

Strolling across the farm, he looked up and into the distance, noting the dark storm clouds approaching in the distance. It wasn't raining yet, and he still had time to wander around, not that he minded adverse weather.

Leaving the farm, he headed across the road and down a side path between the fields, reaching the valley's edge where it met sharp rock faces.

Turning left, he hugged the edge and followed a worn-out trail created mainly by him and his frequent laps around the valley.

His body was much stronger than it had been when he first started out performing his cycles. Whilst it wasn't at the point of leaping tall buildings in a single bound, his stamina and toughness were above an average child his age back on Earth, allowing him to work harder.

It wasn't long before he reached the woodland area that was the entrance to the valley, and he looked up at the nearby mountain to where he knew a sentry point lay hidden, nestled amongst some trees.

The valley entrance wasn't large, a few hundred metres across at the most, and he had always wondered why they never bothered building a wall here until he thought about it some more. The surrounding mountains here weren't as high as the ones near the village, and using them to bypass the wall was far more manageable.

Hugging the treeline, he walked across to the other side of the valley and heard voices coming from inside the forest as he drew close. This technically was inside the village as some trees had still crept into the valley inside the bottleneck.

Curious to see what was happening, he headed between the trees and towards the source, recognising some of the voices as the dew closer.

"Filthy peasant, at least put some shoes on. It's embarrassing." Tantalus spat.

As he rounded a few more trees, he slipped in behind a small bush, using his hunting skills to stay undetected as he peered into the small clearing and spotted a group of four village children and the new arrival Tantalus.

Lysander lay on the ground, his nose bloody as he stared up in hatred at the young noble and Rhea, who was practically hugging the arrogant boy's arm. It was more fitting to call Rhea a young woman now than a girl, with her womanly features coming through.

"You're a spoiled rich kid sent here by Daddy to learn to behave," Lysander called back as one of the other children helped him to his feet.

His insult seemed to hit a nerve as Tantalus angrily flushed red and reached for the sword at his waist.

"You're a tramp with no shoes. You should leave before you get hurt." Rhea spoke in a condescending voice that lacked pity for the boy who had practically been her shadow for years.

"And you're a harlot who thinks she has found her path out of this village to a better life." Lysander snapped back as he wiped the blood from his nose with his sleeve.

He couldn't help but nod.

He had never particularly liked the girl, but she was precisely that to him, a girl. There was no point in blaming her for being childish, and apart from teaching her an odd lesson here and there, he left her to make a fool of herself.

Seeing her standing over the boy who had followed her around, who caused trouble at her instigation, with a look of disdain, made him reevaluate her in a new light.

Ganging up on the other children around the village like him was one thing, but taking the side of an outsider who had just arrived against one of your own was a new low.

"Peasant, call her a harlot again, and I'll cut out your tongue," Tantalus shouted as he removed his hand from the sword and pointed at the boy.

"I'm just saying it true. If you don't like what you're hearing, then fuck off back to Daddy." Lysander shouted back as he stepped forward, his face boiling with rage.

"Bastard," Tantalus screamed and launched himself at the other boy.

The pair met halfway, and he watched as fists flew.

It wasn't uncommon for the children around the village to get into a fight, and with the sturdy bodies that essence cultivation provided, those usually ended in minor injuries. That's why he remained where he was and watched what was going on.

He had fought Lysander several times over the years, so he had a rough gauge of his strength and was curious to see how the newcomer would fare.

Tantalus was well-trained, even though it looked like he was an arrogant brat born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

Fluidly ducking under a punch sent by Lysander, he caught the barefooted boy in the stomach with a punch that forced air from his lungs.

Before Lysander could react, blow after blow bypassed hastily erected defences, knocking him around and causing him to stagger backwards.

Lysander then used his bare foot to stomp on the ground, causing a tiny ripple of earth to spread out that would cause his opponent to lose his footing.

Tantalus stepped over the passing wave of earth and sent out a palm strike as a wave of freezing cold water essence blasted out a larger image of the palm that hit Lysander square in the chest.

The younger boy was blasted away, his top torn as he rolled across the ground and through the skill he had formed. It didn't seem like he was out of the fight as he dove straight back up.

His torn top was wide open, revealing a black handprint as he wiped some blood from a graze on his face.

Stomping down, a rock flew out of the ground, and Lysander kicked it, sending it spiralling towards Tantalus, who drew his sword and cut forward.

The rock was cleanly cut in two and flew to the sides as an arc of ice flew forward, catching Lysander across the upper body and knocking him backwards to the ground with a nasty cut that leaked blood.

"Now you see the difference between a noble and a nobody like you," Tantalus said as he pointed the sword at his downed opponent.

"Go... Fuck... Yourself." Lysander wheezed out between pained breaths as he sat up and stared across.

"You!" Tantalus roared and raised the sword, ready to bring it down.

"Enough!" He shouted and stepped into the clearing as everyone turned to look at the new arrival.