There, beneath the hush of night, they finally drifted into sleep. Limbs intertwined, skin pressed to skin, each slow breath shared in silence. It wasn't just exhaustion—it was something deeper. An intimacy that needed no words. A closeness that didn't fade, even in sleep.
The next morning, they awoke strangely rested. Calm. Happy. As if their bodies remembered something their minds couldn't quite name…
In that relaxed haze, they returned to the study—only to be hit with an unpleasant surprise. The night reeked of sex. A consequence of only half-cleaning it the night before.
'We really forgot that party…' Mikael though, wrinkling his nose.
Fortunately, a few stronger cleansing spells solved the issue. In mere moments, the space smelled pristine—like nothing had ever happened the day before.
With the room restored, they summoned their research materials again and resumed work without delay.
Surprisingly, their relaxed state paid off. Their minds moved more fluidly, and in a short time, they made notable progress. Breakthroughs that had eluded them before now came within reach.
And, so the days slipped by. Two and a half more months of near-constant research passed, marked by quiet determination and small but steady victories.
Or at least that was the case for the first half a month. After? Not so much…
***
"Ahhhhhh…" Mikael's long, drawn-out exhale echoed through the study room. "It isn't working!"
Lyra, sitting a few steps away, let out her own sigh, frustration etched clearly on her face as she muttered, "I know…"
Both of them fell silent again, exhaling deeply—annoyance and tension radiating off their bodies as they sank into their own tangled thoughts.
The research room, once charged with focused energy and quiet determination, had taken on an entirely different atmosphere compared to two months ago. Back then, it had been a space of progress and curiosity as they delved into the complex fusion of six distinct energies. Now, it felt more like a prison.
Not much had changed in appearance—scrolls, artifacts, books, and diagrams still cluttered the area—but the air was heavy. The oppressive aura that lingered wasn't from any formation or energy imbalance. It came from them. From their exhaustion. From failure. Mikael and Lyra sat with their heads slightly bowed, weighed down by weeks of dead ends.
Eventually, the silence broke again as Mikael let out another sigh and muttered, "I think we should take a break."
"A break?" Lyra looked up, her voice more tired than skeptical.
He nodded without hesitation. "Yeah. If we stay in here any longer, we're just going to keep hitting the same wall. Maybe stepping away for a bit will help reset our minds. Give us a fresh perspective."
"You're probably right…" She clenched her fist, jaw tightening. "At least I won't feel like punching a hole through the wall. Because right now? That urge is very real."
"Me too, Lyra… me too."
Even as Mikael echoed her frustration, Lyra wasn't done venting. "I mean, it's been two whole months! Not a single breakthrough. Not even the barest hint of progress!"
She shook her head, voice rising with each word. "Not a single one! We've been in here nearly nonstop, pushing ourselves day after day… and for what? Nothing but failure." She took a shallow breath, trying to steady herself. "...It's just too damn frustrating."
"Yeah, I know." Mikael leaned back slightly, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling. "That's why a break might actually help."
He stood slowly, stretching out his limbs. "I think I'll head outside the Sect for a bit. Do something combat-related. Vent some of this steam."
Normally, Lyra might have voiced concern at the idea, but today? Her patience had long since eroded. "I'll go see Kiara. Maybe her music will bring a little peace back into my soul... or at least keep me from snapping."
Mikael was tempted to leave right away, eager to get out of this suffocating room, but he paused himself. Instead, he stepped toward Lyra, closing the distance between them without a word. Then, without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.
The kiss was long and heated—more about reconnecting than passion—but it served its purpose. Neither of them had truly been in the mood, but the simple act of affection, of grounding themselves in each other, helped shift something inside. When they finally pulled apart, some of the heavy fog hanging over them had lifted.
Their eyes met for a brief moment. No words were exchanged—none were needed. A silent nod passed between them, then they turned and walked off in opposite directions, each seeking something that might lift the heavy cloud weighing down their minds.
Before leaving the Wandering Sword Sect's grounds, Mikael took a short detour to personally say goodbye to Amelia and Kiara.
With that done, he made a stop at Sword Heart Peak to inform his senior sister, Lian'er. Mischievous as always in her annoyingly adorable way, she raised an eyebrow at his departure but didn't press him.
He asked her to pass the message along to anyone important—Great Elder Jianhai, Senior Brother Renjiro—if they happened to look for him.
Having tied up those loose ends, Mikael quietly left Sword Heart Peak and made his way toward the Inner Court.
It didn't take long for him to move from the upper levels of the Skycleave Mountain Range to the middle regions. As expected, the qi here was noticeably thinner, a constant reminder of the cultivation divide between the Core and Inner Courts.
Unlike the near stillness of the Core Court, the Inner Court buzzed with movement. Countless disciples crisscrossed the sky, the majority of them without anything but there were some of them that were on swords, others using talismans or spirit beasts to fly.
He passed a few airborne cultivators along the way, landing soon after in front of the Mission Hall.
Since he was planning to head out for a while, picking up some missions on the side seemed like a decent idea. He could train, blow off some steam, and rack up a bit of merit all in one go.
Normally, he would've gone to the Mission Hall of the Core Court, but considering his current cultivation—1st layer of the Spiritual Foundation Realm—he knew those missions would be far too dangerous at the moment.
To avoid unnecessary complications, he chose to visit the Inner Court instead. The difficulty there would be far more suited to his level.
As he descended and began approaching the hall, he moved quietly, drawing little attention at first. But that didn't last long. The moment a few disciples caught sight of his Taoist Robes—the distinct attire of a Core Disciple—murmurs began spreading like wildfire.
"A Core Disciple? What's he doing here?"
"Why would someone from the Core Court show up in the Inner Court's Mission Hall?"
One disciple narrowed his eyes. "Wait—1st layer?"
That single phrase triggered a storm of whispers. The other disciples paid attention to their divine sense passive scanning function, confirming what they couldn't believe—Mikael was only at the 1st layer of the Spiritual Foundation Realm.
"Impossible. Isn't the minimum for Core Disciples supposed to be the 6th layer?"
"No way he's legit."
"Did he sneak into the Core Court somehow?"
The hall buzzed with speculation and disbelief. But Mikael, unfazed, continued forward without sparing any of them a glance.
"Stop right there, imposter!"
A voice rang out across the crowd. Mikael kept walking. He wasn't sure if it was directed at him—and frankly, even if it was, he didn't care.
The disciple, furious at being ignored, jumped in front of his path. "I said stop!"
Mikael halted. His gaze dropped on the man like a blade. Cold, unreadable. Then he exhaled, the irritation he thought he'd buried rising back to the surface.
"What is it re—" He cut himself off mid-sentence, letting the rest hang unfinished. There was no point in wasting breath.
He simply stared at the disciple. The silence between them weighed more than any insult could.
The disciple didn't seem to catch the weight of it. Instead, he straightened and barked, "I don't know how you got your hands on a Core Disciple Taoist Robe, but as an Inner Disciple, what you're doing is an insult to our Seniors. Take it off!"
'Righteous indignation, huh. Always the loudest ones that understand the least.'
Without a word, Mikael reached into his robes and pulled out a plaque. The Core Disciple emblem gleamed in the light as he held it up.
"I'm not an 'imposter,' as you just claimed. I was accepted into the Core Court despite my lower cultivation realm—on the basis of my talent."
He slid the plaque back into his robes, then offered the disciple a smile—small, sharp, and devastatingly disdainful.
"So if you could stop meddling in things that don't concern you—and stop making a fool of yourself in the process—that would be appreciated. Thank you."
Without sparing the man another glance, Mikael walked past him and continued toward the Mission Hall.
Behind him, a wave of hushed chatter broke out.
"Wait... is he actually a real Core Disciple? That plaque looked authentic…"
"I'm not sure, but—" One of the girl's voice caught mid-thought before she gasped. "I think I know who he is!"
Her exclamation drew curious eyes from those nearby.
"Half a year ago, four genius cultivators were directly recruited as Core Disciples. Their cultivation was low at the time, but their talent was unmatched. I heard they were accepted on the spot."
She glanced in the direction Mikael had gone. "He must be one of them."
The others nodded, their skepticism giving ways to murmurs of reluctant awe. Even if it wasn't the full truth, it sounded close enough.
The Inner Disciple Mikael had left behind stood frozen. His expression had curled into something ugly.
Every words reached his ears, and each one landed like a slap. His face burned. The shame was sharp and immediate, and the loss of face in front of so many onlookers made it worse.
And then came the laughter.
"Now that I think about it, doesn't Lin Fan look like a fool?" someone said, snickering. "He blocked the path of a real Core Disciple Senior and accused him of being an imposter like it was a fact… only to be dead wrong."
Other Inner Disciples quickly chimed in, their voices thick with mockery. A few crude jabs were thrown his way, each one deepening the color on Lin Fan's face.
His expression darkened by the second until he could no longer beat it. Without a word, he turned and fled, unable to endure the humiliation any longer.
Meanwhile, Mikael—completely unconcerned with the drama unfolding behind him—arrived at one of the mission counters. His mood, already sour, certainly hadn't improved with the previous event.
The disciple behind the counter had witnessed the earlier exchange and didn't dare question Mikael's status, even if his cultivation realm didn't match the robe he wore. There was no hesitation in his greeting.
He saluted with respect before speaking. "Senior Brother, you may scan the Mission Jade with your Divine Sense. That will allow you to view and select the mission or missions you wish to accept."
Mikael offered a silent nod, then directed his Divine Sense toward the jade-like tablet embedded into the counter's surface.
A flood of information surged into his mind. Dozens of missions appeared at once, layered with details and classifications, each one mapped out with surprising clarity.
'So this is how they handle mission allocation. Efficient, I'll give them that.'
He was midly surprised, but it wasn't his first time extracting information with Divine Sense. The sensation passed quickly, and he began analyzing the entries.
His enhanced mental faculties allowed him to process hundreds of missions per second. Combined with the filtering system embedded in the jade, he rapidly cut through the irrelevant clutter to isolate what mattered.
A few stood out—challenging yet rewarding, designed to push him through brutal combat and encourage rapid growth.
He selected five.
"Senior Brother, are you sure you want to take five missions at once?" the disciple asked, visibly concerned. "The three tied to the Savagefang Mountain Range don't have a time limit, but the Bandit Extermination Mission and the Demonic Cultivator Extermination Mission both have strict deadlines. Only two months. Are you confident you can complete them in time?"
"If I finish those two missions early," MIkael asked, "do I need to return to the Sect to report them in person?"
The disciples shook his head. "That won't be necessary. As long as the tasks are completed within the required timeframe, you can confirm completion directly using your identification plaque."
"I see," Mikael replied. "Then I'll take all five."
"Very well," the disciple said, smiling faintly. "Bring out your identification plaque. I'll register the missions in your name."
Shortly after, the registration was complete. Mikael could now access the details of his five missions whenever he sent his Divine Sense into his identification plaque, allowing him to review them at any time.
With everything settled, Mikael exited the Mission Hall. As before, his presence drew glances, but he ignored them entirely. Without pause, he rose into the sky and flew toward the lower levels of the Skycleave Mountain Range.
The flight took longer than expected, a result of the Wandering Sword Sect's immense territory. Eventually, he arrived at the Outer Court, where the atmosphere shifted drastically—gone was the stillness of the Core Court or the orderly presence of the Inner Court. The Outer Court was alive, packed with activity.
Cultivators filled the area in every direction, the vast majority of them stuck in the Body Forging Realm and unable to fly. Their presence created a scene like a colony of ants, scurrying between training fields, towers, and resource halls. Even though the Outer Court's territory was massive, the number of Outer Disciples had reached into the millions—making some regions feel cramped despite the space.
Mikael continued soaring above the crowd, unaffected. He knew the further he drifted from key structures, the thinner the population became. But he didn't bother changing course.
"Hmm?" He felt a subtle shift as he passed through an invisible boundary. The air rippled faintly—he'd just left the Sect's protective formation.
He turned mid-flight and looked back at the towering Skycleave Mountain Range. For a moment, he simply watched it, letting the silence sink in.
'I'm out of the Sect for the first time in half a year…'
His gaze was drawn to a waterfall cascading down one of the nearby cliffs. The way the light danced across its mist was nothing short of breathtaking.
'I'll finally explore this cultivation world—with all its beauty and its danger.' A subtle smile curved his lips, sharp and eager. 'I'm excited to see what this world has in store for me. Hopefully, it'll be fun… and filled with combat.'
Shiing—
A sudden vibration pulsed from his back.
"Oh?" He reached for Sangrelia with his Divine Sense, drawing the blade in a smooth motion.
As his fingers wrapped around the hilt, the humming quieted. He could feel it—her anticipation, her shared eagerness.
"You too?" he asked quietly "You're excited to face the challenges this world holds ?"
Shiing.
"Hahahaha. Me too" Mikael laughed, with a glimmer of emotion, his previous fool mood disappearing at this moment. "We're finally leaving the safe zone that was the Wandering Sword Sect—to wander in the real world."
His eyes drifted toward the horizon, where distant mountains stood like silent sentinels beyond the reach of the Sect.
A horizon full of unknowns.
His gaze sharpened, lit by a fierce glint—an eagerness to fight, to grow, to prove himself.
Whatever awaited him beyond these borders, he would face it head-on.
He didn't know what lay ahead… but he was ready.
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