A girl in green settles into meditation with slow, measured breaths, her awareness drawing inward until the world around her fades into nothing. The cold stone beneath her, the vast chamber that stretches beyond her closed eyes, and even the menacing black orbs’ presence all slip away as her focus sinks deeper and deeper. Within moments, she is no longer aware of her surroundings at all—only the steady rhythm of breath and the soft pull of spiritual energy guiding her inward.
The moment her consciousness drops fully into the flow of spiritual energy, a soft warmth blooms inside her body.
It should make her happy—and it does—but the moment she feels her spiritual energy circulating, she grimaces. This is going to take forever…
A sigh escapes through her nose. The novels she read always made early cultivation realms seem fast, almost effortless—one epiphany, one lucky herb, one dramatic breakthrough. Reality, however, sits heavily on her shoulders.
If this were an MMORPG, I’d just grind monsters for experience… this “natural gathering over months” nonsense is so slow.
She pushes the thought away. Complaining won’t change the pace. All she can do is sink deeper, refine her breathing, and let her Spirit Roots guide the spiritual energy as it fills her core. Her consciousness slips inward like a drop falling into still water.
The first thing she feels is the familiar pull just below her navel—a warm, swirling basin of energy, expanding slowly with every breath. The spiritual energy pools there, shimmering in a clear sphere of glowing light the size of a small marble.
There you are, she thinks. My dantian.
She calls it that without hesitation. It matches the descriptions from the cultivation stories she devoured. A core center. A place where energy gathers, compresses, transforms.
She lets her awareness spin around it. Warm. Dense. Harmonious.
Then, she withdraws from the dantian and examines the next location—one she hasn’t properly explored despite noticing the faint pull before.
Her awareness rises toward the region near her heart. Immediately, she feels resistance.
A strange, muted sensation—like a door shut tightly from the inside. Spiritual energy doesn’t flow into it. Instead, it pushes back, rejecting every thread of energy she tries to guide toward it.
What… is this?
The space feels sealed. Not dormant, but blocked. Deliberately shut. There’s no pain, but the feeling is distinctly wrong.
She lingers only a moment, unease curling in her throat.
I’ll… deal with that later.
A wise choice, she decides. If the spiritual energy doesn’t want to go there, she won’t force it. It never worked out for characters who forced an issue in cultivation in those novels. She moves on to the third location.
Her consciousness drifts upward, toward the center of her forehead, just behind the space between her eyebrows. The moment she reaches it—
Everything goes white.
A horizon of pure white stretches endlessly around her. It feels familiar.
Too familiar.
Her chest tightens. Wait. No. No, no—am I dead again?
The last time she saw this endless blankness was in the moment of her death. The memory crashes into her—that mocking red and black system panel hovering in front of her like she was some punchline to a really bad joke. Panic spikes.
But then—
A soft chime rings out behind her, crisp like struck glass.
A translucent system window unfolds before her eyes, glowing pale blue.
[Skill Unlocked: Palace of the Mind (Rare)]
The text repeats in a more elegant, floating script just beneath:
[A mental construct formed from spiritual development and comprehension affinity.
Enhances the user’s clarity, calculation, and comprehension speed.
Reduces mental strain and spiritual fatigue for comprehension-based techniques.
Slightly reduces spiritual energy consumption for comprehension-based attacks.]
Her fear evaporates instantly.
“Oh.” Her voice echoes strangely in the empty space. “So… I’m not dead. Good. Great. Let’s not do that again.”
Another chime.
[Cultivation Attribute Unlocked: Spiritual Palace (Minor)]
[A spiritual realm within the mind.
Accessible during meditation.
Allows skill practice without stamina or spiritual energy consumption.
Physical limitations do not apply.]
She stares at the white void again—this time with awe. A mental realm. A literal training dimension. A place where she can practice indefinitely without exhausting her body.
Her excitement bubbles so strongly she laughs—quiet but breathless.
This… this is insane.
The moment the realization hits her, she gleefully clasps her hands in excitement.
“Alright then. Let’s make the most of this!”
She begins immediately. Her rusted sword materializes in her right hand—not summoned, but imagined, her mind shaping its presence here. The blade appears cleaner in this space, less chipped. Her comprehension smooths its edges subconsciously.
She moves. Void Flower Steps flow like drifting petals, each footfall soft yet unsteady at first. She shifts from one position to another, slowly improving step by step.
After countless tries, she moves without disturbing even the imaginary dust beneath her. Her form becomes lighter, movement sharper, faster—and more importantly, in full control.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Then she shifts into her sword practice. The Nine-Lotus Sword Art feels clumsy at first—her grip awkward, her stance a little too tight, each swing lacking the clean force she imagines it should have. She repeats the sequence anyway, again and again, small corrections creeping into her body without her noticing. Gradually, her movements smooth; her blade cuts cleaner arcs; her footing settles into something closer to instinct than guesswork.
And then—unexpectedly—her sword leaves a faint afterimage trailing behind it, a soft, translucent shape like the curve of a petal drifting loose in the air. She startles for a moment, almost breaking form, but continues. More strikes follow, and occasionally another petal-like shimmer appears, fragile and incomplete, as though the technique itself is testing her readiness.
It’s only when her movements finally align—breath, stance, intent—that the faintest suggestion of a blooming pattern begins to form around her, subtle and fleeting, gone the moment she loses focus.
She repeats the sequences. Again. And again. And again.
There is no fatigue. No soreness. No hunger. No time. She sinks deeper into form, meaning, intent—her comprehension sharpening like a knife’s edge.
She loses herself.
Suddenly, an all-too-familiar chime echoes.
[Level Up — Level 5 (Mid Stage) — Qi Condensation]
She pauses, blinking. “Huh? Already?”
Numbers flicker:
[Spiritual Energy: 1600 / 3200]
A rush of warmth flows down her arms and legs, settling in her core.
The moment the update completes, a second window slides open.
[New Skill Pending]
“Perfect timing.” She grins. “Let’s see what I can make.”
She sits in the white expanse with her palms resting lightly on her knees. The [New Skill Pending] prompt lingers at the edge of her vision, waiting. She doesn’t select it right away.
Instead, she lets her thoughts settle.
She already has a sword art. She already has a movement technique. Both feel good—natural even—but they have drawbacks in Aldun. Sword forms rely on angles, precision to cut through flesh and bone. Her footwork lets her slip past danger. Yet neither answers the problem she keeps circling back to: people—specifically people in plate armor.
“How do I fight tin cans?” People—trained, deliberate, and likely wrapped in metal from throat to boot, like the armored knights she’s seen in stories and half-remembered visions of a world she doesn’t quite recognize anymore.
Steel doesn’t bleed. Steel doesn’t yield just because a form is elegant.
If she ever faces someone like that, how does she break through? What can she rely on when her blade glances off plate and her movement only buys time?
What she needs isn’t reach. It’s a way to crack armor… or bypass it entirely.
The thought lingers like a quiet truth she’s been avoiding.
I need something simple, she thinks slowly. Something I can always use. Something that doesn’t depend on a weapon, but on being faster than whatever is coming at me.
A palm strike seems the most natural option. No overly complicated posture. No dependency on the sword in her hand. Just her body—and her own spiritual energy.
She lifts her hand, watching her fingers relax into an instinctive shape.
Spiritual energy flows better when I’m calm… so a technique built on flow, not brute force, makes sense.
The idea settles deeper.
A technique that moves smoothly from one point to the next. One that transfers energy efficiently. Something that behaves more like a continuous stream than a single, explosive hit.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing flashy.
Just a strike that always connects cleanly… and can thread spiritual energy exactly where she wants it to go.
Her thumb brushes her palm. The concept sharpens.
Fluid. Steady. Controlled. Like guiding water through narrow paths.
The moment her intention fully forms, the System responds.
A gentle chime.
A blue window unfolds before her.
[New Skill Created: 1000 Rivers Palm Technique (Unique)]
[A palm technique that flows with the user’s movement.
Fast, fluid, and capable of striking acupoints through armor.
Infuse spiritual energy for increased damage.
Base cost: 5 Spiritual Energy + 5 Stamina.]
She lowers her hand, suppressing her excitement with a slow, quiet nod.
“Yes… this one fits.”
She visualizes her status window. It appears instantly:
[Status]
Name: ???
Race: Human
Level: 5 (Mid Stage) — Qi Condensation
Main Class: Cultivator
Sub Class: Swordsman
Title: Immortal Sword Cultivator
Health: 150 / 150
Stamina: 150 / 150
Spiritual Energy: 1600 / 3200
Attributes:
Body: 11 + 4
Dexterity: 10 + 4
Comprehension: 11 + 4
Luck: 11 + 4
Cultivation Attributes:
Spirit Roots: Heavenly Wood Root, Heavenly Water Root
Spiritual Palace (Minor)
Skills:
Void Flower Steps (Unique)
Nine-Lotus Sword Art (Unique)
Minor Spiritual Energy Sense (Rare)
Minor Identify (Common)
Palace of the Mind (Rare)
1000 Rivers Palm Technique (Unique)
She studies it carefully.
“My stats still suck,” she mutters. “Slow and steady is good, I guess.”
Then realization strikes.
Dexterity isn’t part of Body because—
She recalls how her movements refined themselves during training. Micro-adjustments, grip, balance, posture, trajectory—all require dexterity.
Strength and speed matter—but this makes swordsmanship an art.
“That explains a lot, actually,” she mumbles, scratching her cheek.
She breathes out slowly and dives back into training, adding the 1000 Rivers Palm Technique to her cycle. Time continues to flow outside, but she gives it no attention. She is so lost in the white space, she hardly notices the changes outside.
She stumbles suddenly in surprise.
A familiar chime rings out, and excitement bubbles within her as she looks at the panel in front of her.
[Level Up — Level 10 (Peak Stage) — Qi Condensation]
She hastily opens her status panel.
[Status]
Name: ???
Race: Human
Level: 10 (Peak Stage) Qi Condensation (max level for stage reached. Breakthrough required)
Main Class: Cultivator
Sub Class: Swordsman
Title: Immortal Sword Cultivator
Health: 200 / 200
Stamina: 200 / 200
Spiritual Energy: 51200 / 51200
Attributes:
Body: 15 + 5
Dexterity: 14 + 5
Comprehension: 15 + 5
Luck: 15 + 5
Cultivation Attributes:
Spirit Roots: Heavenly Wood Root, Heavenly Water Root
Spiritual Palace (Minor)
Skills:
Void Flower Steps (Unique)
Nine-Lotus Sword Art (Unique)
Minor Spiritual Energy Sense (Rare)
Minor Identify (Common)
Palace of the Mind (Rare)
1000 Rivers Palm Technique (Unique)
New skill pending…
She stares at her Spiritual Energy. “Fifty… thousand…?”
Her eye twitches when she notices a big detail.
She can’t level up anymore.
[Breakthrough Required — Foundation Establishment Needed]
“This is going to be a problem, isn’t it?”
She tries recalling the cultivation novel steps—visualizing cores, revolving energy, anchoring the self, merging soul and body.
Nothing happens.
She tries meditating more deeply.
Still nothing.
She tries holding her breath dramatically, even puffing out her cheeks.
Negative progress.
After a long moment of stony silence, she lets out a small groan.
Cultivation novels lied to me.
“Fine. Whatever. Breakthrough later.”
She waves the notification away and focuses on the pending skill instead.
She barely begins contemplating a ranged technique when her senses scream at her.
Her eyes snap open. The world explodes.
A man in plain steel armor with gold trim and burgundy accents stands before her, sword raised. Another figure in white robes with gold trim lunges nearby. They are mid-attack.
1000 Rivers Palm Technique activates automatically. A flurry of invisible strikes bursts from her.
The figure in robes is hurled backward, slammed into a distant pillar. The armored man staggers from another wave of unseen blows, sword clanging violently.
Then an explosion erupts behind her, dust and energy rippling through the hall.
Okay… that was too close.
Her heart trembles as she takes in the scene in front of her. Spiritual Energy envelops her by instinct. Green eyes narrow as she scans everyone before her, rusted sword raised. Her heart sinks as she views the system prompts.
This is so unfair…
