A few minutes later, the ghostly figure of the lady erged from the misty confines of Sky Mist City, soaring effortlessly through the air to et the young man who radiated powerful spiritual energy and a fierce sword intent. Her presence was ethereal, almost unreal, as if she were a wisp of smoke yet to fully take shape. The handso young man, standing alone in the silence, remained still as she approached, his eyes unwavering. He did not speak a word, his focus fixed on her every movent as she drew nearer.
When she was within clear view, he noted the subtle yet distinct change in her attire. She wore the sa pale white robe as before, but this ti, the fabric was cut differently. It no longer draped down gracefully to her ankles; instead, the hemline stopped just above her legs, offering a glimpse of the delicate skin beneath. Despite the change in length, the robe retained the sa haunting simplicity, its beauty only enhanced by her ethereal presence.
The two figures exchanged no words but shared an unspoken understanding, as if they had known each other for lifetis. Together, they ascended toward the Ancient Flying Sword hovering above, its massive form radiating an overwhelming presence. Without a mont’s hesitation, they boarded the sword, and in the blink of an eye, it tore through the very fabric of the sky. The space around them seed to shudder as an imnse rip appeared in the heavens, allowing the Ancient Sword to pass through unimpeded. In the next instant, the rift closed behind them, leaving only a faint, oppressive aura that lingered in the air for a mont before it too disappeared.
Below, at the bustling port, a collective sigh of relief escaped from the lips of both mundane citizens and cultivators alike. The imnse sword aura that had once overwheld the area seed to evaporate, leaving behind only the remnants of a lingering tension. For those untrained in the ways of cultivation, the oppressive energy had felt as if a blade had been poised over their necks, ready to strike at any given mont. The cultivators, on the other hand, had been acutely aware of how close they were to a lethal fate, their bodies suffused with the feeling of impending doom. But now, with the disappearance of the aura, they regained their composure, their faces slowly losing the pallor of fear. The day resud its rhythm, yet the awe-inspiring sight of the Giant Ancient Flying Sword and the overwhelming sword intent it had carried would remain etched in their minds for a long ti to co.
Elsewhere, far away on the vast, unpredictable waters of the Berserk Sea, the scene aboard a slender magic ship was markedly different. Grey, the young cultivator, sat in silence, his senses tuned inward as he entered a semi-conscious state, his eyes closed in deep focus. He was neither fully awake nor entirely asleep, but in this altered state, his consciousness flowed freely, connecting with the spirit energy that surrounded him and entered his body. It was a place where thoughts wandered like whispers in the wind, and the mind could stretch into realms beyond normal perception.
As he entered a semi-conscious state where he was neither awake not asleep, but able to interact with the spirit energy flowing into his body, he slowly drifted into his thoughts.
’Netherworld Ascension Technique... The second part of the Forbidden Monarch art that can only be practiced by those in Foundation Establishnt realm and upwards. It implents the use of the Cold Core within the body by creating it in the dantian. Then, practice making it circulate through your ridians. However, despite the fragntary knowledge he had accumulated, much about the technique remained elusive.
"I still lack the full understanding..." Grey mused inwardly. "Maybe once I reach Foundation Establishnt, I’ll have access to more information. Sky Mist will surely provide with the guidance I need then."
The words of the captain echoed in his mind, sothing she had spoken to him only monts ago. She had provided him with a key insight into the Cold Core, and this information had been nothing short of a revelation. In that brief mont, the fog in his mind cleared, and Grey finally understood the bottleneck he had been facing in his cultivation. The realization ca as a sort of epiphany, like a light turning on in a dark room.
"When I reach Foundation Establishnt," he thought, his mind still deep in ditation, "my Cold Core will naturally grow, and I’ll also develop a Spirit Core made from spirit energy. The Spirit Core will act as a furnace for my Spirit Fires in the future. But... will my dantian be able to hold both a Cold Core and a Spirit Core? Is that even possible?"
The question lingered in his mind, unanswered, but not disturbing. He knew that answers would co in ti, that he only needed to continue cultivating and progressing on his journey. For now, his focus was on the present mont, on the steady intake of spirit energy that filled his body.
Inside his body, Grey could sense the tiny, almost imperceptible particles of spiritual energy as they filtered into him, moving through his ridians like grains of dust being sifted from precious stones. It was a process he had grown familiar with since his transmigration. These particles, though small, were crucial. They slowly but steadily fused with his body, invigorating him from the inside out. His muscles felt more alive, his mind clearer, as if he had just awakened from a deep and restful slumber.
Grey had co to understand that, for cultivators, sleep was not as necessary as it was for ordinary people. The spirit energy that flowed into their bodies replenished and refreshed them in ways that re rest could not. Though he had first experienced this strange phenonon several months ago, it wasn’t until then that he fully grasped its significance. Since then, he had co to relish these monts of cultivation, the brief interludes where he could enter a semi-conscious state and allow the energy to seep into him.
But there was a caution that ca with this: the dangers lurking in the world outside could not be ignored. Grey knew better than to let his guard down for too long. While in this state, his awareness of the outside world was dulled, and although his cultivation would benefit from it, he could not afford to remain in this state for extended periods. There were too many threats, too many dangers lurking in the shadows, and he needed to keep so part of his consciousness alert, aware of his surroundings.
Ti felt strange in this half-conscious state. Monts could stretch into what felt like hours, or they could slip away in the blink of an eye. But Grey had learned to manage it, knowing that as long as he maintained his balance, he could cultivate effectively without losing himself entirely in the process.
As he continued to ditate, his mind cald, and his body absorbed the energy, Grey continued to cultivate until night ca. As the pale moonlight touched his skin, he slowly opened his eyes. A bright glint that could be understood as enlightennt suddenly flashed in his eyes.
Because he had been in deep cultivation for so ti, it took him several monts to get used to his environnt. But when he did, the first thing he did was to check his storage bag and see if Roxanne had woken up from her sleep.
Unfortunately, the little Phoenix was still in deep sleep. And Grey was afraid of what would happen if he forcefully woke her up, so he kept his thoughts to himself and went to eat dinner.
As he was eating a cold dinner of fish, Caster’s words flashed through his mind at this mont.
***
"You are a young boy, so you’re supposed to be eating a lot more than just twice a day. And if you do want to eat, make sure your food is warm. Never eat cold food! Although it will not harm you as a cultivator, you are still a young child after all..." As those words recalled in his mind, Grey couldn’t help but feel a heavy feeling of lancholy which he struggled to shrug off.
’What are you feeling lancholic for? Caster is not yet dead! With his strength and sharp mind, I doubt he would die easily. Not to ntion his generating Battle Armor and his Domain. It will be hard to find a counter to those unknown factors.’ Grey shook his head as he thought.
But while Grey was still in deep thought, the plate with which he was eating from was suddenly flung away from the deck and into the sea. The person who threw it away stood before him.
Naturally, it was the captain-Violet.
Her seemingly unnatural purple hair fell down in waves by the side.
She two plates of roasted fish in her hands and silently sat down on the deck opposite Grey.
When she saw his surprised expression, she bead a sudden smile at him which took him by surprise.
"What are you doing?" The captain pretended not to listen to him and instead set the food down in front of him.
"You’ve not eaten all day and I didn’t see you eat anything yesterday at all. And now that you want to eat, you’re eating cold fish. Didn’t nobody ever tell you not to eat cold food?" The captain berated him in a serious expression.
But seeing him not reply, she could only hold back her blush and say. "Well eat up, I over cooked an don’t have any other animals to feed..." The captain did not finish her words and instead took a large bite out of the fish in front of her.
’Did she just call an animal...’ Grey said internally. He wanted to decline the Captain’s offer for food, but after she gave him a long stare, he could only smile bitterly and begin to eat as well.
And that was how under the moonlight, two figures silently ate fish while keeping each other company with their presence. It was an ethereal sight, just as much as it was lancholic.
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