The sapphire dragon meditated. In the vastness of the crystal world, he looked inward, surveying the confines that his Qi reached.

He felt glad every time he saw his sect, spread over countless worlds, in relative peace.

Most humans didn't even remember the era when war was the rule. He and his brothers had served as guardians of humanity. They had shown humanity the gift of Qi, serving as bastions of life.

The founders of the great sects were the answer to the impending domination of the monsters. Now humanity had the great sects, defenders of cultivation against the creatures.

Today, the sapphire dragon only watched. Conducting initiations of new disciples was one of his favorite activities. To look for latent talents, for new diamonds to be shaped.

He devoted a miniscule part of his consciousness to each initiation. The task was non-delegable, after all. There could always be a surprise that only he could discover.

Through his senses, thousands of visions passed. Trials, battles, tournaments. Across countless worlds, his influence could be seen, could be felt.

Yet there was no rest. There could be no rest.

The dragons needed to keep their place on the throne. The usurpers needed to be fought. Slayers, cultivators sponsored by the dragons, needed to get strong. They needed to fight calamities.

The irony.

A good number of them don't even know that the elder, the sect leader, was a monster. Of course, that was necessary. After all, someone needed to put an end to the absurdities that had happened in that desolated era.

He had brothers and sisters. One dragon for each gemstone. Each one with a sect. Together, the great sects prospered.

And also fought among themselves.

Thus, the immortal being who carried the color blue all over his body would not rest. Those who carried his draconic form inscribed on their robes needed him.

For a second, the dragon awoke. In one world, his Qi had sensed something. At the stage he was at, he could split his consciousness. Each part was a fraction of the original.

Still, a fraction had found something interesting.

Concentrating on that world, he looked. A boy thirsty for power and without resources, like thousands of others. What was so special?

And then he saw it. After so long, someone compatible with the Phoenix had appeared. Finally, one of the legendary creatures would find a new cultivator.

It was not a simple path. With the phoenix, it never had been.

But the hardest paths led to the richest rewards. Should the cultivator hold out, his place at the top would be reserved.

The dragon did what was needed. Using its Qi, it tore a rift in the world's rules and gave the young cultivator a new opportunity.

Now it was upon him to make the Phoenix rise once again.

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"Oh, how nice! You must be the last one, Dante. I'm Rim, and this big guy here is Hector," said the red-haired girl, as she extended her hand to Dante. He couldn't help but admire the girl's eccentric appearance. Her white skin highlighted her red hair, and freckles painted her skin.

Dante was paralyzed. He didn't know how to deal with attention.

"You know, my dear Dante, where I come from, people usually extend their hands in greeting. I guess that's your cue," Hector said with a playful smile.

Dante knew that there was no set age for trying to enter a sect, but Hector's physique was certainly not that of someone in their twenties. At twenty himself, Dante didn't have a third of Hector's muscles.

There were no strict rules for entering a sect. As long as the cultivator was able, the door would always be open, no matter what.

Promptly, Dante extended his hand and greeted them. "Oh...Sorry. Nice to meet you," answered the young cultivator, trying to ignore his awkward manner.

"You can come in. This here is our common area, and we all have individual rooms within the hall. For now we've only established one rule: you need to tell us all about your path," Rim said, with greed in his gaze. The girl was wearing clothes that looked dirty. If the tools she held in her hand were any sign, she must have been a core craftsman.

Hector sighed, "Stop scaring them, Rim. You don't have to count your way, Dante. We'll have time for that. Now, get in."

Dante was relieved. Disclosing your path was one of the most sensitive parts of a cultivator. A path was a map of one's weaknesses and strengths.

The cultivator entered the room. The space looked like a living room of a family residence. There was a seat and some cushions on the floor, and further ahead, something like a kitchen. In the middle of the cushions, there was a small wooden table.

"That's our common area. Each team gets one, and everyone has their own individual room," Rim said as they passed through the living room and into a hallway. Walking to the last door on the left, Rim showed for Dante to enter.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"And here is your room," Rim said with a genuine smile. The way the girl acted made Dante feel uncomfortable, almost agonized. She must be one of those vile people who wakes up happy, singing to the winds how good life is.

When he entered the room–his room–Dante could hardly believe his eyes. Although simple, the room was much larger than his old accommodations.

His room had a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. Although there were only the basic furnishings, the quality of the materials surprised him. Everything seemed to be made of solid wood, the kind Dante had only seen at the last clan school he had worked at.

To Dante, the new room was pure luxury. He had never had a room of his own, always having to share his accommodations with his family.

Dante threw himself on the bed, feeling the soft sheet on his skin. At that moment, he could only smile. In that moment, he felt his shoulders relax. He had made it!

It was only the first step. But, as they say, the first step was often the hardest.

Looking up at the ceiling, he wondered how far he was from home. No thought crossed his mind at the moment except to make all his family proud. After years of weakness, the Flaming Falcon clan would shine again. And by his effort.

"I know I told you to make yourself at home. I just didn't think it would happen so quickly," Rim said, as she leaned in the doorway and watched the scene.

"I'll pretend I didn't see that, and go back to the room. We're leaving in a little while for class," Rim said, laughing.

At that moment, Dante didn't care about anything."Sorry. It's just that everything seems so unreal so far.

"Give the boy some peace, Rim. In fact, learn from him. Being a little grateful wouldn't hurt you," Hector said. So far, his calm manner surprised to Dante. If someone had told him before that the cultivator who showed such power in the trial would be the nicest person in his room, Dante would be unable to believe it.

"Come along with us, if you want. The class you missed yesterday was just an introduction to the sect, but from now on, I'm sure classes will be mandatory," Hector said as he prepared to leave the common room.

Promptly, Dante left his belongings in his room and accompanied his new teammates. He had already missed the first class and would not do so again.

After all, it was in the classroom that Dante shined. Even in his spare time, he sought every potential job in the schools. Just to have more access to information.

They followed the same path to the lobby. Observing the environment more calmly, it was impossible not to admire the atmosphere of the castle. From the floor to the smallest details of the ceiling, everything was ornate.

The colors varied. Many of the walls were light, in a beige tone that resembled sand. The ceiling was a dark gray, which made the lights bright. Of course, the predominant color was blue, which adorned all the details that made up the ambient decor.

When they reached the reception room, they headed to the opposite side of the ward, where there was a large door. As they walked, Dante spotted Marco and nodded in his direction. He got back a laugh that echoed through the halls. Marco's presence reassured the cultivator a little. He reminded him of his grandfather, a man who had always been good and honest.

After entering the big door, they walked through a few more hallways until they reached the outside area. The scene that awaited them seemed to be straight out of a painting. On the left side, there were plants of all kinds. The variety was so great that Dante doubted he had heard of only half of the plants that were there.

In the distance, even more impressive, was a tall wall of obsidian bricks. The way the sunlight shone on the bricks seemed... wrong. It was as if the darkness somehow absorbed the light that came in contact with it, so that it created a refraction effect around the bricks.

As Dante followed his teammates, he couldn't help but wonder what their Monster Core was. Hector's was certainly something to do with ice. But he did not know what Rim and Sabrina's was.

One thing was certain. He could feel a pressure coming from all three. Dante was currently the weakest on the team, for sure.

Not that this was surprising, as he was just at the beginning of Silver. Usually, the descendants of the big clans at Dante's age were already closer to Gold.

Although it was one of his topics of greatest interest, the result of absorbing a Monster Core was still a very nebulous subject for Dante. Monster cores, Oversoul...there were so many variables in calculating a cultivator's strength that trying to determine someone's power level just by one detail was a guess at the best.

The problem was that the information was difficult to gain. So Dante knew only the basics, and was hungry for more knowledge.

As they walked, Dante remembered his journey to becoming a cultivator. Despite the poverty, his family provided him with a Flaming Falcon core while he was still a child, making him at least a bronze. After many years, he had finally become a silver. This was the reason he could try to become a Slayer.

Dante couldn't help but let out a long sigh. In the lottery of life, he had hit none of the numbers. His Monster Core was nothing special. Of course, a cultivator, with enough skill, could strengthen regardless of the rarity of its monster core. But for someone without many resources, a basic core was a lifetime sentence.

He just hoped that his synergy with his Monster Core would be enough for him to advance to Gold. Dante suspected that he would have to be at least Gold to become a Slayer.

It looked like he would find out soon enough. Ahead, he spotted a place full of disciples. A large platform housed the cultivators.

"Oh, if it isn't the fainting boy, the ice cream man and the metal lady," shouted a man standing in the middle of the arena. Could it be that one requirement to pass the first test was to be weird? Or was the man part of the sapphire sect staff?

When they arrived, Dante saw a man laughing.

"Very well, the last puppies have arrived. Let's start the class," said the cultivator, his voice loud enough to make Dante's head hurt.

Dante recognized some of those present. Among them, Dante noticed that Asta, Nadia and Yajeel were standing next to that girl with the enormous sword. It seemed that they had also formed a team.

Some of those present displayed some of their Qi to their new teammates. For a cultivator who had just received his Monster Core, it wasn't difficult to have instability.

This was not the case with Dante. He had received his Core a long time ago. The problem was only the lack of resources.

Cultivation really began when a human received a Monster Core. The Core gave the ability to manipulate Qi, and gradually improved the cultivator's physique. Thus, it was of utmost importance that the cultivator obtained a Core with an affinity to his Qi aptitude.

The problem was that this equation was not impossible to pin down.

"All right, ladies and gentlemen. You may call me Fig, and I will make one thing very clear to you. During our classes, I want you to look at me the same way a cultivator with fire Qi looks at an S-class red dragon. I want total focus, and you can be sure that you will be well rewarded for that," Fig said, as he took a cigarette out of his mouth, dropped it, and put it out with his foot. From the naturalness of the act, Dante would bet that the eccentric new teacher was not just an occasional smoker.

Despite his rude manner, Dante had to admit that the man exuded power. With muscles worthy of a slayer, he wore tall boots with pants and a black T-shirt. A band covered his left eye.

Well, at least Dante was sure that this class would not be the most boring. Not at all.