The cave where he will live

"Live here," the old man said.

That was all.

 Just a simple statement and then the elderly shuffle of his ancient body turning around and walking away.

Vaen looked at the rocky cave in front of him, a jagged wound dangling from the neighboring mountain peak. He floated there for a second, suspended on his flying sword.

"What is this? Cave-living therapy?"

Still, he did not grumble. The old man was not a man you grumbled to. Vaen glided soundlessly to the door and inside.

The interior wasn't spectacular. Steamy air, granite walls with brusque corners, no seating. A neat cave with one stone block that might be used as a bed and a place of meditation. Quiet and isolated—perfect for cultivating.

Which was, of course, the idea.

The old man had called this an assignment, saying it was something in his training. Something about "seeing the world without seeing the world," whatever that meant.

Vaen sat cross-legged, eyes shut. The past days had been packed—Yu Rael's assignment, the journey, the trial of being accepted, the questioning words of the ancient man…

Quiet now, finally.

He took a deep breath and began to circulate the Tenebris Energy around his body. It was something he did every day, something that every cultivator did.

Vaen was different from every cultivator.

He didn't use Origin Qi.

His true power was derived from something else—Tenebris Energy. The void's black fire, maybe. A force not of this world. It moved differently. It lived differently. It was different.

In contrast, Origin Qi was. bland.

Dull, even.

He frowned. "What is the point of this?"

Regardless, he did not stop. This time, He continued by transforming Tenebris Energy into Origin Qi while trying to understand the both.

He felt something click.

It wasn't a roaring, screaming thing. Just a tiny, gentle epiphany: he could translate Tenebris Energy to Origin Qi better now. Purified. Faster.

Not simply dump it into his body and have it brute through to fit. But guide it. Shape it.

"Wait," he growled, "this… is new."

With his improved foundation in Origin Qi, the conversion process had become more refined. Sharper. The moment he added Tenebris Energy, it ran smoother, less wastage. Fewer inner struggles. And then—

Boom.

His body erupted with power.

Before this, even when adding Tenebris Energy, he was on par with a Half-Step Golden Core cultivator. Strong, yes. Powerful enough to stun others, yes. But still not quite at the level of the true Golden Core.

Now?

Stage 1. Solid. No doubt about it.

It wasn't merely the Tenebris. It was controlled. The perfect blend of the world's laws and the supernatural power he held.

Vaen's eyes flickered open. They glowed for a moment with a soft black hue before resuming their normal deep gray.

"I see now. Mortis was correct. Power without stability… is rubbish."

He extended his hand, the currents of Qi around his arm jerking into life at the command of his mind.

It was then that the voice of the old man echoed from

behind the stone wall.

"You've learned the first lesson."

Vaen's brow furrowed. "You were following me?"

"No. The stones inform me. You think too loudly."

"Right."

A scroll poked out of a crevice in the stone wall. It floated before Vaen, faintly glowing.

"This is your next lesson. The Limit Break Art."

Vaen's eyes narrowed.

"The name sounds theatrical."

"This is Version 4.1. Improved and built by centuries of Qi Scholars. This one lets you bypass the Golden Core without resuming bloodlines."

Vaen sat up straighter. He had waited.

"This help advance the Nascent Soul?"

"No, through mastery. Most fail. Some go mad. Some vaporize themselves."

"Beautiful," Vaen said dryly.

The tone of the old man was unusually somber now. "You have to acquire something. In this world, and in nine of every ten others, the path beyond Foundation Formation is decided by blood. Human, beast, spirit—it does not matter. Your blood defines your boundary."

"And this approach bypasses that?"

"It crushes that. You construct a soul upon the foundation of will and comprehension. No blessing of blood. Bare, unflinching comprehension of your own power."

Vaen's expression turned contemplative.

In the human world, the strongest had all been favored by bloodline of origin beasts. The ones that didn't were considered garbage.

This is not an art. This is a rebellion. Silent, bookish rebellion—but rebellion nonetheless.

He reached out his hand towards the scroll.

As soon as his fingers grazed it, what was within exploded into his head like a deluge of golden ink. Diagrams, procedures, mental equations, spiritual anchors…

It wasn't flashy. It wasn't grand maneuvers or lethal strikes. All internal remodeling. It was about defining your soul for yourself.

"Hmph," he grumbled.

"This is the answer of the human race to bloodline tyranny," the old man said, voice a soft but proud one.

Vaen didn't say a word. He simply stood and moved over toward the entrance of the cave.

The wind at this altitude was bitter. It capered across his robes and tugged at his hair.

He was not human, not quite.

But he had decided to be one, for now.

Perhaps, like in this painting, so he was a rebellion too. A silent, peculiar one.

He took a deep breath.

The next step lay before him.

And he was ready to take it.