Alex stood amidst the stillness of the chamber, his thoughts heavy with the techniques he had absorbed. He suspected no one else would consider this possible—not for someone like him, not in this world. The number of techniques he had learned was staggering, overwhelming even. Countless. His mind churned, sorting through the knowledge now permanently etched into his memory. Though a select few techniques among those he had learned appeared near perfect, most were far from it. The flaws within them were obvious, their inefficiency grating against his instincts. Techniques designed to manipulate energy rather than master weaponry. Movements full of unnecessary complexity. Their creators had been blinded by the pursuit of supernatural spectacle, sacrificing function for form.
He summoned and raised a sword, his grip firm as he brought it to readiness. It was a lighter metal taken from his soul armoury, a simple blade untouched by Qi. He focused inward, summoning the energy that had been dormant in his navel. His breath steadied as the strain began to spread through his arm, faint but present.
Sword Qi emerged. The blade’s edge bright in his vision as energy condensed around it, sharpening to a deadly focus. Basic Sword Qi was intended for those at the Foundation Establishment stage and above. It was the foundational mastery of condensing one's Qi into a tangible extension of a sword, allowing the user to project sharp, cutting energy beyond the blade's physical reach, with a thought the translucent edge extended in a burst, shooting outward. If he wanted to, he could extend the length of his blade’s edge as far as his Qi would allow. The effort pulled at him, a persistent strain required to hold it steady.
It’d be better if it didn’t feel like lifting weights, he thought with a grimace. He had learned that using techniques meant for higher cultivation stages, even with perfect understanding, was dangerous. These techniques required spiritual energy and physical strength far beyond his current level. Pushing past those limits could cause serious injuries to the body and meridians, a loss of Qi control called Qi Deviation, or even the collapse of one’s cultivation path entirely. The mental strain could also lead to confusion or worse. Fortunately, his system perfectly managed the intense and advanced flow of Qi, ensuring he faced no risk of Qi deviation, cultivation deviation, or permanent meridian damage.
But while his system protected him from Qi deviation, cultivation collapse, or permanent meridian damage, it couldn’t shield him from the physical and mental toll.
Alex studied the weapon in his hand. The flow of energy had stabilized, now as long as a spear. Good enough, he thought, letting the blade lower as the energy dissipated.
Cultivation and magic... The thought lingered, pulling at itself as Alex considered the nature of the two vastly different energies.
Qi feels... Potent. he thought, summoning the energy through his pathways and into his fingertips. It almost feels a little like a more elementary form of... Lifeforce?... It was immensely powerful when purified, far more so than mana, and he could only imagine how much more powerful purified and condensed Qi became at the higher stages of cultivation. But mana... almost feels like... Building blocks, he thought tentatively.
Cultivators depended entirely on their bodies as vessels for Qi. Their strength came from turning internal energy into power, but that reliance made them rigid. Magic, in contrast, used the environment effortlessly, whether through his domain, inventory, or spatial skills like Pierce Reality or Sovereign Executioner. Magic enabled a practitioner to wield the elements—fire, water, earth, air—and even abstract forces like space and time. Cultivators required rare constitutions, treasures, or extreme cultivation levels to achieve similar results, and even then, it came at a great cost. Cultivation techniques focused on control, ensuring Qi manipulation didn’t harm the body or pathways, but this rigidity made innovation immensely treacherous, one would have to have an almost precognitive knowledge of the movements of pathways, or simply risk the dangers that came with trial and error, where the slightest mishap could lead to permanent and irreversible damage. Magic, on the other hand, thrived on creativity. It demanded ingenuity and planning but rewarded them with unique effects and adaptability. The dangers of magical experimentation were always present, but with the system, they became far less prevalent. Simply put, while Qi and Qi techniques offered a more immediate and devastating, arguably incontestable power—
Magic was simply more versatile.
[2-hour mana cooldown ended. Skills now available for use]
Alex triggered Mana Blade. The energy surged into the weapon, spinning into a lethal, razor-sharp force in a saw of lethality. Eternal Infusion followed, rushing to meet it. The second sword skill charged toward the blade, colliding with the already active energy. The spinning edge of Mana Blade broke apart under the second skill, consumed entirely.
The first skill gets devoured by the second. That’s no good. This time, he decided to guide the mana as he had the few times he’d altered his skills in the past. Mana Blade. Eternal Infusion. He felt the two skill’s forces clash at the blade's surface briefly before he guided them, forcing their distinct natures into alignment. The edge sharpened briefly before the infusion absorbed the rotation, collapsing one into the other as a bright spark flared.
They conflict now but don’t destroy one another. Maybe I can merge them together instead of simply forcing them—
“You’re experimenting,” Mei said flatly as she crossed her arms, leaning against the pedestal. Her gaze followed the length of his flashing and sputtering blade, then snapped back to him. “But I can already tell you’re going about it wrong. Magic isn’t just brute force or throwing energy at something until it sticks.” She stepped forward, her tone sharp, almost instructive. “Magic is a methodology. A system. You’re coming at it from a place of instinct, and while that might work for now, it’s no way to achieve mastery.”
Alex turned to face her, his sword still in hand. “So what’s the way, then?” His attention focused slightly, curiosity overtaking caution. “I’m listening.”
She raised four fingers, ticking off her points as she spoke. “It’s a combination of four things. Your understanding of the world, your understanding of the arcane, how strong your will is, and owning a skill that lets you manipulate mana, sensing it’s better, too.”
Alex tilted his head. “Understanding the arcane? Sounds vague. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s not vague,” Mei shot back. “The arcane is as complex and deep as the real world. You think mana is just ’energy’?” She air quoted with fingers as though the idea was idiotic. “It’s charge, atoms, cells, matter, spirit, soul, life, evolution, summoning spirits, even dimensional conditions, there are some more things I don’t quite get, but it’s a lot. It’s everything. The more you understand the intricacies, the more control you have. And the more control you have, the more devastating your magic becomes.”
“The system helps,” Mei said, gesturing toward him. “If you’re lucky enough to get a skill to manipulate mana. Active skills, passive skills, doesn’t matter—it gets much easier if you have one of those, otherwise, you’ll have to brute force it.” She shook her head, “real power comes from how you use skills, not what the system gives you. People at the top don’t just rely on the system to do everything for them.”
“That’s where most people fail—they either don’t have or can’t combine the different fields of knowledge, or sometimes they don’t have the strength of will to impose their intent on reality.”
“Understanding, will, control,” Alex muttered. “What about worlds where technology and magic coexist? Seems like both could have huge advantages.”
“They don’t,” Mei said simply, she glanced briefly at ancient scorch marks on the wall, then back at Alex. “You’ll rarely find worlds that balance two dominant resources—like magic and technology. One always wins. Politics, industry, costs, or culture push things in one direction or the other. You see it time after time. You don’t see worlds using crude consumable fuels and renewable energy equally. Magic and technology are no different—one will dominate the other. So almost all worlds are limited in some way. That’s why incursion dungeons are so critical.”
That makes sense, Alex thought, like the prevalence of wired technology on earth, even though it was clearly inferior to Tesla’s wireless technology, invented over a hundred years ago at that, or earth's illogical reliance on crude oil despite its near redundancy when compared to renewable alternatives. Throughout Earth’s history, the need to cling to existing infrastructure and basic human greed had stifled social progress at every corner.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“So... it’s like engineering,” Alex said, lowering his blade slightly. “You study the real world and the… Arcane, and figure out how they interact with reality.”
“Exactly,” Mei replied with a nod. “Magic and technology are no different. You need all four elements: Miss more than one, and you’re stuck playing with parlour tricks.”
Alex stayed quiet for a moment, processing her words. “Alright,” he said finally, the faintest hint of a smirk crossing his lips. “Show me where I’m wrong.”
Mei snorted, crossing her arms again. “That’s what I’m doing, genius. Now stop playing with half-baked skills and start thinking like a magician.”
With her words still fresh in his mind, he condensed his Domain and his perception expanded, wrapping around the weapon as if he had become the god of all that existed in its range. He traced the current of mana, splitting it into streams, commanding them to spiral without interference. Both skills ignited again, the blade now holding their combined weight. Within the Domain’s clarity, the chaos sharpened into manageable patterns.
His skill, Eternal Infusion’s description claimed it would infuse his sword with the essence of magic… whatever that means, he grumbled internally. Mei’s description had felt like an introduction to a concept he had hardly even stepped foot on. Like antimatter theory or something equally esoteric.
So instead of focusing on something he had never heard of, on a hunch, Alex decided to focus on something simple, an element his past life had caused him to be passingly familiar with.
Lightning. Alex focused, drawing on everything he knew. He pictured electrons building charge, the massive potential difference between clouds and the ground, and the sudden discharge as currents tore through the path of least resistance. Rather than focusing on the chaos of mana manipulation—he chose the set systems of reality. Movement, conduction, heat, and ionization working together, driven by the laws of nature. From observing the gravity dragon, Tarabyzan, he realized that mana could behave no differently. It was energy—transferable, convertible, bound by conservation. Energy doesn’t come from nowhere, and it doesn’t disappear. It changes form. With that thought, he shaped the mana, condensing it. His intent turned it sharp and volatile, forcing it into a dense, electric charge. The edge of his blade crackled, the mana visibly stabilizing into a contained thick and almost solid arc. Sparks leapt and popped, charged with devastating energy, the blade radiating an aura of precision and control.
His focus then turned to fire—its essence grounded in combustion. He imagined its base elements: heat, fuel, and oxygen merging into a steady burn. Mana followed, forming a bright red glow around the blade. He compressed it further, knowing from experience that higher temperatures would shift the fire’s colour. The red deepened, turning blue as the heat intensified and molecular motion quickened. He pushed harder, stripping the particles of their electrons until the fire transitioned into plasma, its brilliance overwhelming. The volatile energy roared, radiating destructive heat that warped the space around the blade. The heat radiated outward in waves, blistering the stone beneath his feet and burning the air around him. Alex shifted immediately, dispersing the plasma before it could spiral further.
[System Message: Skill consolidation detected]
[Initiating Skill consolidation protocol…]
[Skill: Mana Blade removed!]
[Skill: Eternal Infusion removed!]
[System Alert: Skill consolidation has been influenced by your class]
[Consolidating Skill Masteries…]
[Completed]
[D ranked Skill - ‘All-Knowing Cut’ (Active) gained!]
[All-Knowing Cut (Active) - The user gains the ability to infuse their blade with any element they can conceive and understand to a satisfactory level of mastery. This user gains two functions: imbuing the blade with the chosen element to enhance damage capabilities or launching a mid-to-short-range crescent strike of the imbued element, which explodes upon impact. At D-grade, the skill can infuse any physical phenomena the user can comprehend. Higher levels of mastery enable the infusion of more esoteric or abstract elements.]
“All-Knowing Cut,” Alex muttered the words and barely thought of lightning before his blade transformed into a crackling arc of thick and coiling lightning. So I only have to imbue the element once before the system registers it to the skill, he noted, observing the vibrating blade. He swung his blade, watching as sparks crackled along the blade’s edge with compressed energy, a dense and volatile, sharp, almost tangible edge. He knew that if he were to swing the blade with intent, the energy would tear forward, cleaving through the vault’s interior to explode upon impact. But that would be an extremely stupid thing to do, he thought, resisting the intrusive impulse.
“That’s annoyingly bright,” Mei observed as he deactivated the skill. Her gaze shifted between Alex and the path he had forged through the dense protective layers. “When you walked through the inner doors and its defences… How were you doing that?” she asked, her brow furrowing and her head tilting to glance at the talismans hanging overhead.
The edges of the formations merely hummed faintly, undisturbed, their overlapping barriers stretching from the floor to the high vaulted ceiling. Mei had witnessed Alex had walked through them unimpeded, his stride unbroken, his body moving through the dense lattice of talismans, Qi traps, dense metal and reinforced arrays as though they weren’t there. He had reappeared in the main entrance chamber unharmed and without so much as a hair out of place, much to her startlement.
Alex didn’t pause in practising his new skill. He glanced at her briefly over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “The Dao,” he said simply, his tone casual. “It was a quest reward. Sort of. I kind of just ran with it” His eyes turned to the complex formations once more, “But to be honest I think there’s more to it. I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface.”
Mei’s expression shifted, thoughtful now as though reevaluating something about him. “The Dao…” she said, her voice softer now, almost to herself. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.” She didn’t say more, but her thoughtful look lingered as he moved toward the outer chamber.
Alex glanced at her again, his voice breaking the silence. “Anything you want to take?”
Mei snorted, crossing her arms. “Hell no. You think I’m crazy? I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get yourself caught.” She hesitated, her expression tightening briefly. “Besides, I’ve got something I wanted to talk to you about—”
A low and deep metallic groan cut through the stillness.
Both of them froze as the massive outer doors shifted, their ancient frames grinding open with a slow, deliberate weight. The first tremor of power washed through the chamber. Alex’s stomach churned as he felt the oppressive force pressing against the walls, filling the room with a suffocating presence. It was a power far beyond that of an outer disciple—vast, unyielding, and ancient.
Alex moved without thinking, grabbing Mei’s arm as the floor beneath them seemed to ripple. The polished stone folded inward, swallowing them both in a fluid motion as they sunk into the mountains depths.
The chamber above them fell into silence once more.
***
Back at the medicinal hall’s entrance and shrouded in Mei’s stealth skill, Alex glanced back to the mountain’s upper reaches, his brow furrowed. It felt like the entirety of the mountain range’s peak was being observed, somehow. “Who the hell is that?” He asked.
Mei shook her head, her gaze fixed behind them. “Not someone we want to meet.”
Mei glanced toward Alex before speaking. “I wanted to warn you, that’s why I came tonight. I overheard something,” she said with mild concern. “The elders are expecting to see you tomorrow morning.” She leaned her shoulder against the stone wall, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face as she added, “Some kids from Elder Zhen’s circle said your reward’s been changed. You were supposed to get a Spirit Furnace Pill—ten years of Qi in one dose. But they swapped it for some secret technique that’s impossible to master unless you’re at Soul Formation. Three months of seclusion training to learn it, they said.” She paused, her expression sharp. “Zhen’s trying to weaken you. He’s giving the others time to surpass you—and after that? He’ll send his outer disciples to deal with you.”
“Let them come,” Alex scoffed in dismissal of her warning.
Mei moved to the edge of the medicinal hall’s entrance, turning her attention fully to Alex. “It’s not all bad. You’ll have three months to yourself. Maybe you can visit ‘Earth’ in that time.”
Alex’s gaze remained steady on her. “I don’t even know where Earth is,” he said flatly. “All I have is Pyra.”
“Oh yeah.” Mei stepped forward and raised an empty palm toward him. In an instant, a golden sphere appeared, hovering above her hand. It radiated faintly, its surface alive with shifting and overlapping runes, rituals, spells, and complex patterns of stored energy of unrecognisable kinds. “Jin told me to give this to you. Said you were supposed to have a world treasure,” she said, tilting her hand slightly to offer it to him.
Alex took it, studying the sphere as he spoke. "Did he say what kind of world it holds?"
“Dunno.” Mei glanced at the sphere before turning her eyes back to Alex. She shrugged, her tone nonchalant. “No clue.”
A wave of powerful Qi washed over not just the pair of them, but the entire sect, causing the nearby trees to sway and waterfalls to ripple in disturbance as Alex heard distant shouts sound across the mountain range.
Both he and Mei looked outward, moving deeper into the medicinal halls open double doors.
The sect’s valley stretched out beyond the hall's walls, its structures bathed in faint moonlight. From this vantage point, the scale of their earlier intrusion became painfully clear.
Alex felt it again—a ripple of energy that seemed to stretch and bend the space around them. The figure entering the vault was powerful; deliberate, and precise, their presence filling the entire mountain like an all-seeing storm. Lanterns were being lit, one after the other, as the sect entered high alert. “Let’s head back inside,” Alex said.
Getting caught now wouldn’t do; tomorrow he would have to face the sect’s elders, and perhaps see what world his companion, Jin, had brought to him.