In the middle of a desolated courtyard, Artemis sat cross-legged upon a vast stone table. His body was perfectly still, his breathing faint, as he attempted once again to draw in the cosmic energy of heaven and earth.
Threads of cosmic energy surged toward him from every direction, converging on his seated figure. The energy flowed into his body through his pores, slipping into both the major and minor acupoints. From there, the currents coursed along his meridians, resembling countless small rivers slithering inward, all moving toward a single destination—his core.
The streams of cosmic energy converged before that point, but a thick and stubborn barrier guarded the location of the core. The gathered energy circled around it once, spiraling as if testing for an opening, before scattering into countless strands. Powerless to penetrate, the strands dispersed back into the meridians, flowing aimlessly before fading.
Yet Artemis did not falter. Instead of discouragement, determination welled within him. He gathered cosmic energy once more, pulling it into his body in greater volume, driving it toward the barrier with renewed force.
Wave after wave pressed against the core, but the result remained unchanged. Each volley circled the core fruitlessly, then returned to the meridians like defeated soldiers retreating from an unbreakable fortress.
After several cycles, the cosmic energy surrounding his body began to thin. The courtyard's once vibrant flow grew faint, drawn dry by his efforts. Still, no matter how much he strained, the energy refused to enter the core.
In the end, the energy dispersed through his body instead. The remnant power seeped into his skin, muscles, and bones, nourishing them slowly. His flesh grew denser, his frame harder, his body honed until it became unnaturally tough and resilient. Only after this final trace of cosmic energy had been absorbed did his cultivation attempt reach its end.
Artemis opened his eyes and let out a long breath. Frustration weighed on his chest. He lowered himself onto the cold surface of the stone table, lying flat as he stared upward into the empty sky. Once again, he had failed. Once again, the core had rejected him.
This hurdle had haunted him from the very beginning. Ever since he first stepped onto the path of cultivation, the cosmic energy he absorbed never once entered his core. Instead, it diverted entirely into his flesh, bones, and skin. What should have been a flaw, however, became both a curse and an advantage. The ceaseless tempering forged his body into something extraordinary, unnaturally durable, frighteningly strong.
At sixteen years of age, Artemis's raw physical strength already eclipsed that of many full-fledged cultivators. Against anyone unable to activate their Cosmo, his might was overwhelming. Yet, it was a hollow advantage. Without awakening his Cosmo, he could not distill the cosmic energy into its condensed form. And without Cosmo, the vast arsenal of combat techniques remained forever beyond his reach.
In battle against higher-level cultivators, who wielded true Cosmo, his brute strength alone would mean nothing. Facing them with only his body was no different from courting death.
On the Mirage Continent, talent was measured by how early one awakened their Cosmo. The gifted awakened before the age of twelve. To awaken after twelve was considered a sign of mediocrity, proof that one's accomplishments on the cultivation path would never touch greatness. Those born with ancient bloodlines often awakened their Cosmo within mere days of birth, destined from the start to rise far above their peers.
The earlier one awakened, the brighter their future blazed. That was the iron law of cultivation on Mirage Continent.
But Artemis was the exception. Born in the smallest city of the Arthdel Kingdom, Kora City, he was already sixteen years old, yet the reason for his failure to awaken remained beyond his comprehension. No teacher, no scroll, no meditation had explained why his core remained sealed, why the energy nourished everything but the place it was meant to enter.
In Mirage Continent, true champions were forged through ascension, the climb through the Eight Sacred Realms of Cosmo, each realm a trial of will and power. With each step forward, a cultivator gained more than strength. Their speed quickened, their senses sharpened, their endurance expanded, and their very lifespans stretched far beyond mortal limits. To climb higher was to live longer, sometimes for centuries, sometimes for millennia.
But the price of ascension was steep. The path demanded balance—body, mind, and spirit in perfect harmony. It was a journey without shortcuts. Many awakened, but few ascended. Fewer still reached the final stage, where mortals shed their fragile nature and rose as living legends.
The Sacred Realms of Cosmo were divided into eight great tiers: Cosmo Initiate, Cosmo Adept, Cosmo Master, Cosmo Lord, Cosmo King, Cosmo Monarch, Cosmo Sage, and Cosmo Emperor. Each realm was further split into inferior, medial, and superior grades. To climb even a single step was to transform one's destiny.
Yet here was Artemis, unable even to take the very first step.