CHAPTER 13

Two months had passed; I was now at the fourth rank of the Human Realm.

I was progressing quickly thanks to the orb in my abdomen. Over time, the black color continuously enhanced my strength nonstop, independently of the ather, while the white color continuously enhanced my speed, also independently of the ather—but it also represented my life.

The golden part represented the maximum amount of ather I could handle. When I tried to exceed that limit,

I would feel an unbearable heat that started in my lower abdomen and then spread throughout my entire body.

When testing my limits, I felt like I was in an oven at over 260 degrees.

My control over fire had greatly improved. I could cover my arms in flames, change the temperature and density of the fire, and even throw fireballs at any intensity and speed I wanted.

Ever since I unlocked the ather within me, I've been able to see through walls—well, only living beings and ather, actually.

Today marked six months since I arrived here.

Who would believe me if I said I had spent a hundred years in this place?

Even though staying two or three more years would likely have brought me to the eighth rank of the Human Realm, I decided to leave.

I still needed to be careful not to go insane, because I realized that madness was part of me.

It has exactly the same strength as I do—it's a version of me that knows all my techniques and is completely unpredictable.

As I walked toward the exit of the fifteenth floor, I heard noises.

People were coming down. I clung to the wall and climbed high enough so they wouldn't see me.

There were four men. I recognized all of them—they were cultivators of rank three or four.

"Mr. Gérard wants us to torture Tony Morga if he managed to survive, and to bring back his corpse. Even if you find his dead body, Mr. Gérard said to bring it too."

I was happy to see other humans for the first time in six months… but no, they were here to kill me.

I dropped to the ground, right in front of them.

Two of them were rank three, and two were rank four.

"Well, young man, it's a miracle you survived here, but despite that, you're going to die now. Guys, get him on the ground," said the leader of the group.

The other three rushed at me.

I knew they couldn't beat me—not for a second. I opened my hand, pressed my fingers tightly together, and disappeared from their field of vision.

Five seconds. That's how long it took me to decapitate them and appear in front of their leader.

He fell before me. "How is this possible? Even Canou Gérard isn't that fast, and you're only supposed to be rank one!"

I had been right about one of my theories: cultivators only increase their speed and strength through rank-ups.

There's no direct ather inside their bodies—no absorption.

Because the condition for absorbing it is to feel and see the ather. Without that, it's impossible.

The only time they use ather is to cultivate—and even then, just sensing it slightly increases their abilities, and even that's temporary.

That explains everything.

Canou Gérard reached the sixth rank at the end of his life, which made him young again.

But before that, he was in his mid-nineties.

So Lucien Mordy, who claims to be rank four, is lying.

Actually, I believe many of them are lying.

I grabbed the leader by the throat and lifted him up.

"What's your real rank? Answer me if you want to live," I said.

"Okay, okay, you're right… I'm actually rank two," he said.

"Do many cultivators do this?" I asked.

"Yes, yes… there are plenty who exaggerate their rank by one or two.

Look at Lucien Mordy. He supposedly is rank four, but in reality, he's just rank one.

Because he has a handsome face and comes from a rich family, they chose him to be the public face of the Cultivator Association.

You must've heard the story—he graduated from the academy in just two years, became the youngest ever to reach rank four, etc…"

"And Canou Gérard—is he really rank six?" I demanded.

"Yes, yes, he really is rank six. But most of the honest ones are people who were poor or professors at the academy.

You can be sure a lot of the rich ones, or the kids of the rich, are lying," he said.

Alright. I had enough information.

But where does Canou Gérard really live?

I doubt he truly lives in the United States, letting everyone know that so openly.

"He lives at the academy in London. Even if he's no longer the director, he lives on the top floors… Now tell me, are you going to spare me? I told you everything."

Smiling, I covered my right arm in flames and let it burn while he screamed.

I also burned the three others I had decapitated, and returned to the surface.