Day 755
Don sat in the main cavern's center. Twenty months of relentless study. Eighty-four techniques mastered. His consciousness cracked but controlled. His essence structure strained but stable.
Now came the hard part: integration.
Knowledge wasn't power. Applied knowledge was power. Don had learned eighty-four ways to break reality. Time to make them instinctive.
He activated three-stream partition—his sustainable limit without risking complete fracture.
Stream one: maintained valve and balance as always.
Stream two: combat drills in the Arena.
Stream three: technique fusion experiments.
Don entered the Arena. Summoned one thousand Stage 6 automatons simultaneously.
The constructs materialized in organized formation. Front line melee. Mid-range support. Back line ranged. Proper military structure.
Don didn't move. Just stood in the center as they charged.
First wave—two hundred melee automatons—crossed fifty meters in three seconds.
Don activated Chrono Field. Time dilated. His perception accelerated three times normal speed. The charging automatons slowed to crawl from his perspective.
He drew Valdris's Oath. The blade ignited with corrupted holy flames shot through with silver threads. King's Wrath activated automatically against non-human enemies.
Don walked forward. Not running. Walking.
His sword moved through the first automaton's neck. Clean cut. Head separated. Body collapsed.
But Don didn't stop there. The moment his blade completed the cut, he activated Severed Consequence.
The next automaton's head fell off. No cut. No strike. Just consequence without cause. Effect manifesting from nothing.
Third automaton received Truth Erasure. "You are functional" stopped being true. The construct seized mid-stride. Not damaged. Just not-functional. The truth of its operation deleted from reality.
Fourth through tenth automatons entered Null Space Don created at head-height. Their heads simply ceased existing. Not removed—unmade. Seven headless bodies collapsed simultaneously.
Chrono Field ended. Time resumed normal flow.
Ten automatons eliminated in four seconds of normal time. Twelve seconds from Don's accelerated perspective.
The remaining melee automatons reached him. One hundred ninety constructs attacking simultaneously.
Don activated Quantum Self.
From one angle, he stood still—fifty automatons' strikes passed through that state harmlessly.
From another angle, he crouched—forty automatons attacked empty space above him.
From third angle, he leaped—thirty automatons struck ground where he wasn't.
The remaining seventy actually connected with real state. Their blades bit into Don's body—
Eternal Liminal activated. Don existed in transition between solid and not-solid. The blades passed through flesh that was between states. No wounds. No damage. Just attacks meeting liminal existence that couldn't be harmed.
Don's eight Executioner's Edge blades manifested. Spread into perfect octagon. Spun.
The blades moved through automatons like wheat before scythe. One rotation: sixteen kills. Two rotations: thirty-two kills. Three rotations: forty-eight kills.
Stream three analyzed the combination. Quantum Self plus Eternal Liminal plus Executioner's Edge rotation equaled untouchable offense. Perfect technique fusion.
Filed for future use.
Mid-range support automatons began casting. Energy projectiles. Elemental attacks. Debuff spells. Three hundred simultaneous techniques launching toward Don's position.
Don activated Contradiction Engine.
"These attacks are both lethal and harmless."
The paradox forced itself onto reality. Three hundred techniques struck Don. All of them hit. All of them penetrated defenses.
But because they were simultaneously harmless, they dealt zero damage. The contradiction existed without resolution—attacks that killed and didn't kill occupying same space.
Don held the paradox for two seconds. Then released it.
Reality snapped back to consistency. The attacks, no longer forced to be harmless, dissipated because they'd already struck. Their energy spent. Their effects concluded.
Paradox as perfect defense. Stream three noted the application.
Back-line ranged units fired. Physical projectiles. Arrows. Spears. Ballista bolts. Five hundred simultaneous impacts incoming.
Don created small Null Space directly in flight path.
The projectiles entered void. Ceased existing. Not destroyed—deleted from reality. Five hundred weapons simply stopped being true.
But Don didn't stop there. The moment the projectiles vanished, he activated Declared Fate.
"Your next volley will miss."
Reality accepted the declaration. The ranged units fired again—five hundred more projectiles. All of them curved away mid-flight. Physics bent. Trajectories altered. Not one projectile hit target.
Not because Don dodged. Because missing was declared destiny. Reality made it true.
Stream three noted: Null Space plus Declared Fate equaled absolute projectile defense. No attack could land if fate declared it wouldn't.
Seven hundred automatons remained. All attacking simultaneously with coordinated assault.
Don activated Supreme Override.
Three seconds. Absolute authority. His word made law.
"You cease."
The declaration wasn't suggestion. Wasn't manipulation. Was pure fact backed by will strong enough to make universe obey.
Seven hundred Stage 6 automatons simply stopped existing. Not destroyed. Not killed. Just ceased. Edited out of reality by authority that couldn't be questioned.
Don's consciousness fractured. The crack widened dramatically—wide line to severe fissure. Pain beyond physical exploded through his essence structure. Silver integration jumped massively. His three-stream partition collapsed.
Don fell to one knee. Blood poured from his nose, ears, eyes. His internal organs showed damage. His essence layers were coming apart at the junctions.
But the Arena was empty. One thousand Stage 6 automatons. Eliminated in forty-seven seconds.
Worth it? Debatable. Supreme Override's cost was catastrophic. Recovery would take weeks.
But the information gained—invaluable. Don now knew exactly what his ceiling techniques could achieve. What combinations worked. What prices he'd pay.
Don dismissed the Arena. Consciousness unified. Stream one immediately focused on damage control—Absolute Dominion and Equilibrium State working overtime to stabilize the fracture.
Day 770
Two weeks of recovery. The crack had stabilized at severe fissure width—concerning but controlled. Silver integration had jumped significantly but remained manageable through the valve.
Don emerged from meditation. Walked to the north wall where Arcturus meditated in eternal star-form.
"Stellar Emperor."
Arcturus's eyes opened—burning points of light like twin suns. "Sovereign. I felt your test. Supreme Override against one thousand constructs." His expression was unreadable. "Excessive."
"Necessary. I needed to understand the ceiling techniques' true cost."
"And now you do. Supreme Override will kill you if used carelessly. Three seconds of absolute authority in exchange for potential permanent damage." Arcturus gestured at Don's visible strain. "Your crack is severe. Another usage like that, and you'll shatter completely."
"I know."
"Do you?" Arcturus's burning eyes narrowed. "I've seen cultivators reach your level before. Learned too many techniques. Mastered too much power. All of them died because they couldn't resist using what they'd learned. The temptation to unleash absolute techniques in desperate moments—it kills more cultivators than enemies do."
Don was silent for moment. Then: "What would you do? If you were me? Knowing these techniques exist but knowing they'll destroy you?"
Arcturus actually smiled—rare expression from being of living starlight. "I'd ask myself: what am I trying to survive? If answer is 'one more day,' then never use them. If answer is 'long enough to achieve my purpose,' then calculate whether cost is worth outcome."
"I survived Stage 4 advancement by using my ultimate technique at critical moment. Burned away forty percent of my essence permanently. Reduced my potential peak from Stage 7 to Stage 6. But I lived. And because I lived, I eventually reached Stage 6 anyway. Would I make same choice again? Yes."
Don processed this. "Ultimate techniques exist for ultimate moments."
"Exactly. You have eight ceiling techniques that can reshape reality. All of them will destroy you. Use them when reality needs reshaping more than you need staying intact. Otherwise, master the other seventy-six techniques so well you never need the eight."
Arcturus's expression became serious. "How many techniques can you use simultaneously without partition?"
"Twelve. Maybe fifteen if they're compatible."
"Not enough. By the time you leave this cave, you should manage thirty. When Stage 4 combat starts, you won't have luxury of careful technique selection. You'll need instant response. Unconscious mastery. Reflex faster than thought."
"Thirty simultaneous techniques without partition means your crack remains stable. Means your consciousness isn't divided. Means you survive."
Don nodded. "How do I reach that level?"
"Repetition. Combination. Integration. Stop treating techniques as separate tools. Start treating them as single unified arsenal. When you draw Valdris's Oath, twelve other techniques should activate automatically. When you dodge, eight defensive techniques should trigger without conscious decision."
"Make your entire combat style one seamless technique composed of thirty smaller ones operating in perfect coordination. That's true mastery."
Don stood. "Thank you, Stellar Emperor."
Arcturus closed his eyes. Returned to stellar meditation. "Eight months remain. Use them well."
Day 785
Don spent every waking hour in the Arena. Not fighting one thousand enemies—fighting ten enemies with thirty simultaneous techniques.
First attempt: complete failure. Don tried activating thirty techniques at once. His consciousness couldn't track them all. Half the techniques fired incorrectly. Quarter failed to activate. The remainder interfered with each other.
Result: ten Stage 5 automatons killed him. First death in Arena since entering the cave.
Second attempt: reduced to twenty techniques. Still too many. Cognitive overload. Killed again.
Third attempt: fifteen techniques. Manageable but inefficient. Don eliminated the automatons but took significant damage.
The problem wasn't power—Don had more than enough. The problem was mental bandwidth. Conscious mind couldn't track thirty techniques simultaneously.
Solution: make them unconscious.
Don spent three days in pure meditation. Not studying new techniques—internalizing existing ones. Making them instinctive. Reflexive. Automatic.
When enemy attacked, Temporal Dilation activated without thought.
When projectile launched, Null Space formed automatically.
When technique was used against him, Contradiction Engine responded reflexively.
Don was programming his subconscious to handle technique activation. Freeing his conscious mind for strategy and adaptation.
Day four: tested in Arena against ten Stage 5 automatons.
Twenty-three techniques activated automatically during combat. Don's conscious mind only controlled seven—the strategic choices. Everything else was reflex.
Result: ten automatons eliminated in nineteen seconds. Zero damage taken.
Progress.
Day 810
One month of relentless drilling. Don could now maintain thirty-one simultaneous techniques without conscious partition.
His combat style had evolved from "use technique, observe result, choose next technique" to "existence in combat is technique."
Every movement triggered multiple effects. Every breath synchronized with essence flow. Every thought connected to reality manipulation.
Test: one hundred Stage 6 automatons. Full power engagement. Thirty-one techniques operating continuously.
Don entered the Arena. The automatons materialized.
Combat began before they finished forming.
Chrono Field (auto). Time Dilation (auto). Probability Sense (auto). Combat Analysis (auto). True Sight (auto). Essence Optimization (auto). Reactive Evolution (auto). Equilibrium State (auto). Absolute Dominion on valve (auto). Sovereign's Authority (passive). King's Wrath against non-humans (auto).
Eleven techniques active before first enemy moved. Zero conscious thought required.
Don drew Valdris's Oath. The draw triggered technique chain:
Blade ignition (auto). Holy flame corruption (auto). Executioner's Edge manifestation (auto). Will Manifest on all eight blades (auto). Execution Field activation (auto). Death Parade preparation (auto).
Six more techniques. Seventeen total. Still no conscious decisions.
The automatons attacked. Fifty charged. Thirty cast spells. Twenty fired projectiles.
Don's automatic defenses responded:
Eternal Liminal against melee (auto). Contradiction Engine against spells (auto). Null Space against projectiles (auto). Temporal Stillness on nearest threats (auto). Reality Overlay on mid-range enemies (auto).
Twenty-two techniques. His conscious mind barely aware of individual activations. Just flowing through combat like water through canyon—following path of least resistance, adapting automatically to obstacles.
Don's conscious focus handled only strategic decisions: Target priority. Formation exploitation. Energy conservation. Technique combination for maximum effect.
His Executioner's Edge blades carved through automatons. Each kill triggered Life Steal (auto). Each nearby enemy received Execution Mark (auto). Each marked target was tracked by Combat Analysis (auto).
Thirty techniques operating. One more slot available.
Don activated Boundary Break manually—his thirty-first technique. The only one requiring conscious decision because of its cost.
His presence surged. Stage 3 power touching Stage 4 threshold artificially. For twelve seconds, Don was beyond what Stage 3 should achieve.
Those twelve seconds: fifty automatons eliminated. Combination of elevated power plus thirty automatic techniques plus perfect strategic focus.
Boundary Break ended. Don's body strained but held. Crack widened slightly but stabilized immediately through Absolute Dominion.
The remaining fifty automatons fell in next twenty seconds through normal combat. Thirty techniques plus Don's natural capability.
One hundred Stage 6 automatons. Thirty-two seconds total. Minimal damage.
Don dismissed the Arena. Examined his internal state through True Sight.
Crack: severe but stable. Integration: high but controlled. Essence structure: strained but intact. Mental state: exhausted but functional.
He'd achieved Arcturus's goal. Thirty-one simultaneous techniques without partition. Combat had become seamless integration of everything learned.
One more test remained.
Day 825
Don stood in the main cavern's center. All five ancient cultivators present—gathered without being called. They'd felt what was coming.
Don looked at each of them in turn.
Arcturus. Seraphine. Null. Echo. Eternal Mind.
All Stage 6. All centuries old. All more experienced than Don could ever claim.
"I need final test," Don said simply. "Not against automatons. Against real opponents with real tactics and real experience. All five of you. Simultaneously."
Silence.
Then Eternal Mind spoke: "You want us to try to kill you."
"Yes."
"You'll die," Seraphine said flatly. "We're all Stage 6. You're Stage 3. Numbers don't matter at that gap. One of us could kill you. Five of us will obliterate you."
"Maybe. But I need to know what Stage 6 combat feels like. Need to understand the gap between my techniques and real power. Can't learn that from automatons."
Null's void-form rippled. "...You're insane..."
Echo laughed—broken-glass sound that hurt to hear. "He's RIGHT! Testing against EQUALS is POINTLESS! Test against SUPERIORS or don't TEST at all! HAHAHA!"
Arcturus's burning eyes met Don's mismatched gaze. "If we do this, we won't hold back. Stage 6 against Stage 3—there's no 'training mode.' Either you survive through your techniques, or you die. Permanently. No resurrection. No second chances."
"I understand."
"No, you don't." Arcturus's expression was grim. "You've died in the Arena before. Each time, the cave restored you. This time, we'll be trying to kill you so completely that not even this cave can bring you back. Soul destruction. Essence obliteration. Conceptual erasure. The works."
Don's expression didn't change. "I. Understand."
The five ancient cultivators exchanged glances. Some wordless communication passing between beings who'd existed for centuries.
Then Eternal Mind nodded. "Very well. When?"
"Now."
Arena - Final Test
The Arena expanded. Larger than ever before—five kilometers across, high ceiling lost in shadow. Terrain varied: mountains, valleys, forests, rivers. A complete battlefield.
Don stood in the center. Alone. Thirty-one techniques already active automatically. Valdris's Oath drawn. Eight Executioner's Edge blades orbiting.
Five kilometers away in five different directions—
Arcturus. Seraphine. Null. Echo. Eternal Mind.
All at Stage 6. All releasing their full presence. The pressure alone should have crushed Don flat. Should have made breathing impossible. Should have frozen his blood.
Should have.
Sovereign's Authority pushed back. Three-meter radius around Don where reality bent in his favor. Not enough to equalize the gap. Just enough to keep him functional.
Arcturus moved first.
Not running. Not flying. Just existing five kilometers away, then existing directly in front of Don.
Instantaneous travel. Stage 6 spatial manipulation that made Distance an optional concept.
His fist moved. Not fast—actually quite slow from external perspective. But the space between his fist and Don's chest simply didn't exist. The distance was edited out of reality.
Don activated Quantum Self. Existed in three states simultaneously.
Arcturus's fist struck all three states. The Stage 6 attack didn't care about quantum uncertainty. It hit everything.
Don flew backward. Three states collapsed to one. He tumbled through the air for two hundred meters before crashing through a mountain.
His Vitality screamed. Internal organs ruptured. Bones shattered. Essence structure cracked. The crack in his consciousness widened dangerously.
Immortality skill—currently absent in the cave—would have saved him. But here, he had only his Vitality and techniques.
Reactive Evolution activated automatically. Don's body adapted to the blunt force trauma. Resistance building rapidly.
He stood from the crater. Blood covering him. But alive.
Seraphine appeared above him. Frozen Queen in full power. The temperature dropped three hundred degrees instantly. Don's blood started freezing in his veins.
She gestured. Ice formed around Don—not surface ice, but conceptual ice. The idea of being frozen made real.
Don couldn't move. Couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Frozen at molecular level.
Temporal Dilation activated automatically. From Don's perspective, the freezing slowed. His consciousness operated at three times speed even as his body became ice sculpture.
He activated Truth Erasure. "I am frozen" stopped being true. Not because he melted—because the freezing was negated at truth level.
Don shattered the conceptual ice from inside. Fragments exploded outward.
Seraphine raised her hand again—
Null appeared between them. Void-form expanding. Everything within ten meters simply ceased existing. Matter. Energy. Space itself. Just void.
Don fell into the void. No ground. No air. No light. Nothing.
He activated Null Space himself. Created void within the void. Paradox of nested nothingness. The two voids collided—
Reality screamed. The contradiction was too much. The voids collapsed. Don expelled forcefully back into normal space.
He landed hard. Took three seconds to reorient.
Echo's laughter surrounded him. Coming from everywhere and nowhere.
"PEEK-A-BOO! I SEE YOU! HAHAHA!"
Twenty Echo-duplicates appeared. All attacking simultaneously with techniques that violated causality. Attacks landing before they were thrown. Wounds appearing before strikes connected.
Don activated Severed Consequence. Cut the connection between Echo's attacks and their effects. The wounds manifested but dealt no damage. Effects existed without cause.
But that only worked for three seconds. After that, Don's technique ended and Echo's assault resumed.
Don activated Scattered Self. His existence fragmented into fifteen pieces. Each fragment scattered in different direction.
Echo's attacks hit seven fragments. They dissolved—parts of Don's essence lost permanently.
The remaining eight fragments fled. Tried to distance themselves from the five Stage 6 cultivators.
But Distance was meaningless to these opponents.
Eternal Mind appeared before all eight fragments simultaneously. Not duplicates—somehow present in eight locations at once. Stage 6 consciousness transcending spatial limitations.
"Poor choice, young Sovereign. Fragmenting against Stage 6 opponents? Now we just kill each piece individually."
His presence expanded. Psychic pressure so intense it crushed three fragments instantly. Their essence evaporated. Three more pieces of Don gone.
Five fragments remained. They began recombining—desperate attempt to restore wholeness before being eliminated completely.
Arcturus appeared again. Grabbed one fragment. Crushed it with casual grip. Four fragments left.
Seraphine froze another. Shattered it with contemptuous flick. Three fragments.
Null consumed one into void. Two fragments.
Echo slashed one with blade made of broken time. Final fragment.
One piece of Don remained. Twenty percent of his original existence. The fragment struggled to maintain cohesion. To not dissolve. To survive.
Eternal Mind appeared before it. "Impressive that you lasted this long. But this is the gap between Stage 3 and Stage 6. Techniques can't compensate. Only cultivation can."
He raised his hand. Psychic energy gathered. Enough power to obliterate Don's final fragment completely.
In that moment—Don made decision.
He activated Supreme Override. Three seconds. Absolute authority. His word made law.
The cost was catastrophic. Using it while fragmented and damaged? Insane. His consciousness should have shattered completely. His crack should have exploded beyond repair. His essence structure should have disintegrated.
But for three seconds—Don's word was law.
"I reassemble."
The declaration imposed itself on reality. Don's lost fragments were called back. Not voluntarily—reality itself commanded their return.
The seven dissolved pieces reformed. Eight fragments became Don again. Whole. Complete. Restored.
Then Don spoke his second command.
"They stop."
All five Stage 6 cultivators froze. Not because they chose to. Not because they were paralyzed. Because Supreme Override said they would stop. And reality made it true.
Even Stage 6 had to obey. For three seconds.
Don used those three seconds.
He activated Sovereign's Ascension. Elevated every aspect of his existence to Stage 3 maximum. Then activated Boundary Break. Pushed past Stage 3 into Stage 4 threshold.
Then activated World's Ascension. Elevated everything around him for five seconds—but modified it with Unified Paradox to target only himself.
Three ultimate techniques. Stacked. Synchronized. Combined.
For the overlap period where all three were active simultaneously—Don touched something beyond Stage 4. Briefly. A glimpse of Stage 5 power from Stage 3 foundation.
Supreme Override ended. The five Stage 6 cultivators unfroze.
They saw Don—existence burning like star going nova. Power that shouldn't be possible radiating from cultivator who shouldn't exist.
Don raised Valdris's Oath. The blade wasn't burning anymore—it was reality-warping just by existing.
He swung.
The attack crossed five kilometers instantly. Hit all five cultivators simultaneously. Not because it moved fast—because the space between Don and his targets temporarily didn't exist.
The blade struck Arcturus. Seraphine. Null. Echo. Eternal Mind.
All five Stage 6 cultivators were knocked back. Actually damaged. Not significantly—but damaged. By Stage 3 cultivator.
Then all three ultimate techniques ended simultaneously.
Don's consciousness exploded.
His crack shattered completely. Not widening—disintegrating. His essence structure collapsed. His six layers came apart. His body started unmaking itself at molecular level.
He fell from the sky. Broken. Defeated. Dying for real.
The five cultivators caught him before he hit ground.
Arcturus held Don's dissolving form. "Idiot. Beautiful, glorious idiot. You actually damaged us."
Seraphine pressed her hand to Don's chest. Ice flowed out—not harmful ice, but preservation. Keeping his essence from dissipating completely. "He's dying. We need to stabilize him now or he's gone forever."
Null's void-form wrapped around Don. Darkness that somehow felt protective. "...I'll contain the damage... you repair it..."
Echo laughed—but for once, not broken-glass sound. Almost fond. "He SAW it! Saw the GAP! Understood the PRICE! Paid it ANYWAY! MAGNIFICENT!"
Eternal Mind's consciousness dove into Don's shattered mind. Began reconstructing the fragments. Piece by piece. Thought by thought. "This will take time. Days, perhaps. But we can save him."
"Worth saving?" Seraphine asked quietly.
"Absolutely," Arcturus said without hesitation. "Anyone insane enough to stack three ultimate techniques against five Stage 6 opponents? And actually land a hit? He's earned our full effort."
The five ancient cultivators worked together. Stage 6 power focused on saving one Stage 3 cultivator who'd pushed himself past every limit.
Day 850
Don woke.
Not in the Arena. In the main cavern. Lying on stone floor that had been carved into makeshift bed.
All five ancient cultivators present. Waiting.
Don tried to move. Couldn't. His body was functional but his essence structure was... different.
He activated True Sight. Looked inward.
His crack was gone. Not healed—replaced. The five cultivators had reconstructed his consciousness with new foundation. Stronger. Stabler. Designed to handle strain that would have shattered old structure.
The silver integration had been... distributed. Instead of flowing through crack, it now permeated every layer evenly. Diluted but present everywhere.
His six essence layers had been re-optimized. Rebuilt from fragments with Stage 6 expertise guiding the reconstruction.
Don was fundamentally changed. Again.
"How long?" His voice was rough.
"Three weeks," Eternal Mind answered. "You were clinically dead for first two days. We forced your essence back into cohesion. Then spent another nineteen days rebuilding your consciousness piece by piece."
Don processed this. Three weeks of recovery. But he was alive. Against all probability.
"The test's conclusion?" He managed to sit up. Slowly.
Arcturus smiled. "You failed spectacularly. We obliterated you with embarrassing ease. But—and this is critical—you landed hit on all five of us simultaneously. Stage 3 cultivator damaging five Stage 6 opponents, even briefly, is unprecedented."
Seraphine added: "Your technique mastery is perfect. Your tactical thinking is exceptional. Your willingness to sacrifice yourself for tiny advantage is..." She paused. "Disturbing but effective."
"What you lack is raw power," Null's void-voice said. "...All your techniques... all your skill... couldn't overcome six-stage gap... Nothing can except cultivation itself..."
"So you've reached your limit in this cave," Eternal Mind concluded. "No more techniques to learn. No more optimizations to make. What remains is pure cultivation advancement. And that requires resources we don't have here."
Echo laughed—fond sound again. "Time to LEAVE! Time to GO! Hunt your HUNDRED! Shatter your VEIL! Come back STRONGER! HAHAHA!"
Don stood. Shaky but functional. "How much time remains?"
"Three months," Arcturus said. "Cave's seal weakens in exactly ninety days. You'll be expelled automatically. Better to leave recovered than damaged."
"The modifications you made to my consciousness—"
"Will hold," Eternal Mind assured. "We rebuilt you stronger specifically so you could survive Stage 4 advancement. Your crack is now distributed reinforcement. Your silver integration is manageable. Your essence structure is optimized to Stage 6 standards using Stage 3 materials."
"You won't have cracks or fractures when you attempt the Veil. You'll have refined structure most Stage 4 candidates would kill for. We gave you the foundation. Rest is up to you."
Don looked at each of the five ancient cultivators. Beings who'd spent centuries in this cave. Who'd taught him everything. Who'd saved his life when he'd shattered himself.
"Thank you."
Arcturus waved dismissively. "Thank us by surviving Stage 4 advancement. And maybe coming back to visit after you reach Stage 6 yourself. Would be nice to have peer rather than student."
"If I survive."
"When you survive," Seraphine corrected. "With your technique mastery and our reconstruction? Your survival probability is seventy percent. Better than most."
Three months remained. Don would use them for final preparations. Organizing the Hall. Stabilizing his new essence structure. Preparing mentally for exit.
Then the hunt would begin. One hundred Stage 4 entities. Years of searching. Deadly combat against opponents who'd all crossed the Veil.
Don activated True Sight. Examined his rebuilt consciousness one more time. The distributed reinforcement. The optimized layers. The perfected structure.
He was ready. Or as ready as Stage 3 cultivator could be before attempting Stage 4.
The Sovereign's education was complete.
Three months until emergence.
Then everything would change.