Chapter 3: The Path of the Blade
Elton sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor of his secluded cave, eyes closed in disciplined meditation. Outside, the forest whispered with the wind, its silence occasionally broken by distant beastly roars. For three unbroken days, he had remained here, his body and mind submerged in cultivation. Time blurred, and the world faded until only the flow of energy remained.
Having recently broken through to Silver-Tier First Rank, Elton's Ki Essence coursed through him like a roaring river, weaving into harmony with the natural essence of the world around him. His muscles, tempered by constant strain, absorbed Ki with heightened efficiency, while his bones strengthened into resilient conduits for energy. Though the Silver-Tier power throbbed through every vein, Elton recognized the truth that haunted all cultivators. This was not the summit. It was merely the first step upward.
When his eyes opened at last, faint satisfaction flickered within them. Achieving the Silver-Tier was no minor feat, particularly for one who had crawled from the ruins of war. Relentless effort, sleepless nights, and blood-soaked struggle had carried him this far. Yet his heart still carried the weight of his parents' memory, a hollow ache that no breakthrough could mend.
Within that silence, the other presence—his inner voice—remained quiet for now. It was not gone, but waiting, patient and calculating.
Drawing a deep breath, Elton rose to his feet. The forest outside seemed smaller now, his growth reshaping his perception of the world. Still, he knew his training was incomplete. His true path stretched endlessly before him.
The Mortal Body Realms: Bronze, Silver, and Gold
To grasp the meaning of Elton's progress, one must first understand the mortal body realms of Terraplane. These stages served as the foundation for all who sought power—human, demon, angel, or beast. Though techniques differed, the principles of body tempering remained universal.
Bronze-Tier was the beginning. Muscles were tempered to absorb Ki or Arcane Essence, granting strength and durability beyond ordinary mortals. A Bronze warrior could lift immense weight or break stone, while a Bronze magician could conjure elemental magic in raw, unrefined form. To common folk, their strength seemed godlike, yet to cultivators, it was only a fragile beginning. Silver-Tier was the next stage. Here, bones became tempered into conduits of energy. Magicians refined their elemental control with precision, weaving sophisticated magic. Warriors pushed Ki deeper, amplifying speed, power, and endurance to lethal extremes. Even a Bronze-Tier Fifth Rank would crumble instantly before a Silver-Tier First Rank—the gap was that vast. Gold-Tier stood as the peak of the mortal body realms. At this stage, blood itself was tempered, refining one's essence to its absolute limit. Gold warriors wielded unmatched martial might, while Gold magicians could unleash cataclysmic forces capable of reshaping battlefields. Yet even then, the ceiling of mortality loomed above them, unbroken.
Beyond Gold lay the Mortal Shedding Realm, where only the greatest shattered mortal chains. For most, however, Gold was the highest peak they would ever touch.
After several more days of training, Elton left the forest and walked the winding roads toward New Brawl City. His path carried him across rushing rivers, through deep woods, and along roads scarred by war.
Though far smaller than Vast City or the fortified capitals of other lands, New Brawl had become a hub of survival and trade. Merchants, mercenaries, and wandering cultivators filled its streets, each clawing for opportunity among the lingering ashes of conflict.
As Elton passed a tavern, the hushed voices of mercenaries reached his sharp ears.
"Competition."
He would have ignored it, until another spoke more clearly.
"I heard the Bright Blade Sub-Sect is hosting a martial tournament. The top twenty prospects will earn the right to join or, at the very least, gain the notice of the Bright Brilliant Blade Sect. The rewards are worth the blood."
Elton's eyes narrowed. The Bright Blade Sub-Sect was only a shadow of its parent, but its connection to the Bright Brilliant Blade Sect gave it weight. Recognition here could open doors otherwise locked.
A mercenary scoffed. "None of us could win it. The competition starts in forty days. The winners will gain sect resources—worth more than any treasure a thief could steal."
Elton's thoughts sharpened. A competition such as this would be the perfect crucible to test his strength. He had hidden in shadows long enough.
Inside the tavern, he saw the official announcement pinned to a board. Painted letters confirmed the details. In forty days, the Bright Blade Sub-Sect would hold its trials, and the top twenty competitors would be granted resources and training.
The decision was made.
Elton returned to his cave with supplies and threw himself into unrelenting training. He refined his Star Lightning Speed Steps, sharpening his Silver-Tier Ki techniques until his body screamed with strain. Each day pushed him further, and each night he meditated until energy flowed like molten fire through his veins. The growth was exhilarating, almost intoxicating, but he restrained his hunger with discipline.
That was when the voice returned.
"You restrain yourself," it said with cold arrogance, its tone filled with authority. "Do you believe restraint will carry you to the peak? The Bright Blade Sect is nothing. Their scraps will not make you great. You must walk through blood, not around it."
Elton's fists clenched. His jaw tightened, but he remained silent for a moment before answering. "Power without discipline destroys itself. If I rush blindly, I will fall before my path even begins."
A low chuckle echoed in his mind, filled with scornful amusement. "Discipline? Foolish child. You call hesitation discipline. You claim patience when I see fear. I see our potential, yet you cling to weakness as though it will save you. Listen to me. I am the voice that knows what you refuse to accept. Ruthlessness is the only law this world respects."
Elton exhaled slowly, forcing his fury back into calm. He knew the voice was not entirely wrong, but to embrace it fully was to lose the last fragments of who he was.
With forty days left, he returned once again to New Brawl City. The streets were alive with excitement as warriors and magicians alike gathered near the sect headquarters. Some radiated confidence, others desperation, but all sought the same chance at glory.
Standing at the edge of the crowd, Elton's eyes hardened. His path was chosen.
The Bright Blade Sub-Sect would be his first step. It was the beginning of something far greater, and nothing in this world would stand in his way.