Conjuring techniques was mostly about connecting oneself to one's Pathway and making one's intention clear about what was going to happen.
Of course, that was easier said than done.
The weaker the cultivator, the harder it was to conjure anything too complex. That’s why, in the early stages, essence itself seemed to whisper the knowledge of how to activate the first techniques.
Some people needed to chant, others had to move their hands, and some didn’t need to do much more than desire it.
It all depended on the cultivator, the technique, the Pathway, and the intention that connected those factors.
That was why, at this moment, Zamian found himself writing in the air.
His right hand moved so quickly that most cultivators would only see a blur.
White essence flowed from his body to the tip of his finger, but before the technique could be activated or any essence spent, Zamian stopped.
He furrowed his brows, lowering his hand while listening to the whispers from his instincts.
“What do you mean by moving my feet a bit more? Am I a dancing flower?” he scowled. “Besides, this is too slow.”
He went back to moving his hand, this time without using essence, simply practicing the movements.
‘Father stomps his feet. Marlos swings that halberd. Even that vermin Ruen didn’t have to do something ridiculous to conjure his big balls technique,’ he lamented inwardly. ‘So why, when it’s my turn, do I have to write in the air like a dumb oak?’
Beyond the aesthetics, as Zamian trained his movements to conjure Awakening of True Self, a bigger concern took root.
‘Elwood can activate that vortex of his, with the big transparent trunk behind him, in the blink of an eye. There’s no way I can wave my hands around for two seconds without taking a few hits from that vermin,’ he thought, groaning.
No matter how amazing or powerful the technique was, if he couldn’t use it in the middle of battle, it was as good as useless to him.
However, while this problem could stop most people—or demand days or even years of practice—Zamian had a unique advantage.
His movements improved as he now used both hands, jumping from side to side, shifting his hips from right to left, and sometimes crouching before sprinting.
Zamian’s instincts guided him, pointing out flaws to correct, while he constantly changed his approach, testing every variation he could think of to accelerate his learning.
No matter how many whispers he heard or how much his instincts taught him, he listened and learned everything without stopping, merely adjusting his movements.
‘Too slow,’ he thought, using each finger to trace different patterns in the air. ‘Still too slow.’
Not once did he actually conjure the technique.
He had no doubt he could do it—Light’s essence inside him would flow through his body and activate the technique whenever he willed it.
But Zamian refused to settle for something less than useful, in his opinion.
With Luminous Senses still activated, he watched the waves of essence surrounding him shift with his intentions, taking shape as he willed them to move and stop.
Even as he focused on adjusting his body movements and correcting his flaws, the enhanced perception from Luminous Senses allowed him to track how his essence reacted, making it easier to split his focus between both aspects and learn faster.
After all, the primary purpose of this technique was to help a Scholar study.
‘Now I see how good you truly are,’ he thought, his body flowing through the library, recalling every single time he had seen a Chosen, Lin Zhi, or Eve conjure a technique.
‘Could it be?’ His eyes flashed white as he adjusted his rhythm, using mainly his right hand.
Minutes passed, and if an outsider were watching and could understand Zamian’s movements, they would be speechless.
In less than half an hour, his frantic, erratic, and disjointed movements refined into something precise—a grasping motion.
Of course, if that outsider were stronger and had enhanced vision, they would notice that Zamian’s grasping wasn’t a simple closing of his fist.
His fingers moved in rapid succession, each forming a precise motion before his right hand clenched into a fist.
And all of this happened in less than a second.
“Thank you, Eve,” he muttered, realizing his insight had come from remembering her grasping motion. He didn’t know if she used something similar to him, but he was sure this was the best he could manage for now.
Taking a deep breath, he grinned as his body shone with a white hue.
Zamian’s arm rested at his side as he clenched his fingers into a fist.
And his body transformed as quickly as a blink of an eye.
His muscles bulged, the essence surrounding his skin morphing into flowing streams, forming a network of glowing white vein-like trails.
Inside him, his tube-organs multiplied, his blood shifting from red to pink, then finally to pure white.
His bones fused with his muscles and pale skin, their plated structure detaching and reshaping into a white carapace covering his entire body.
Then, most strikingly, at the center of his eight hearts, a fist-sized sphere of pure Light’s essence formed and shot out of his chest, leaving a glowing white hole in its wake.
All of this happened in the span of a single blink.
Now standing twice his original size, Zamian looked down at his right hand.
Instead of human fingers, five white claws extended from his palm, Light’s essence pulsing beneath them, casting a dull glow.
He noticed that the waves of energy that had always flowed from his body were now trapped within, unable to escape past his bone-like skin.
Zamian also had a white orb spinning beside him.
His thoughts raced as his instincts whispered to him, and he used his unique physique to examine his transformed body.
The more he understood about the changes, the more a chilling realization settled over him.
“How is this possible?” he said, his voice booming, layered with the echoes of dozens of different tones.
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Touching his face and head, he felt the absence of not only hair, a nose, and a mouth—but also of eyes.
He could still see clearly, yet he was now a faceless, eyeless being.
“Even the Beginning of the Cycle wasn’t this ridiculous,” he muttered. “How much essence did this even cost?”
Willing the White Dot to show his stats, Zamian flinched as he read the white text.
PERSONAL INFORMATION
Name: Zamian Greenfield
Level: 4 [28%]
Tier: Mortal
Main Pathway: Knowledge
Title: Insightful
STATS POINTS
Body: 10000/24000
Mind: 10000/24000
Soul: 9000/24000
Double-checking, he cursed.
“Twenty percent of my total cultivation, and eight thousand of each point? Is this a blighting joke?” he muttered, dismissing the text and turning his attention to the white orb. “Now, you better work as I think you do.”
Annoyed, he flashed with white light.
At the same time, the spinning white orb shot toward the ceiling at an absurd speed, causing a shockwave followed by a high-pitched noise.
A moment later, a surge of essence rippled from above. Zamian, already watching, observed how the waves of essence shifted in response.
He could still feel the white orb, soaring upward at a steady speed without crashing into anything.
Luckily, his goal wasn’t to hit a target.
Seconds passed, and a vortex formed around the orb, drawing essence into it. After some time, it seemed to reach its maximum capacity and shot back toward Zamian.
Counting the time, Zamian checked his stats again.
PERSONAL INFORMATION
Name: Zamian Greenfield
Level: 4 [27%]
Tier: Mortal
Main Pathway: Knowledge
Title: Insightful
“One percent per minute, just great,” he groaned, his voice causing the air to tremble.
Dismissing the text, he sensed the white orb approaching and opened his arms.
The fist-sized orb shot into his chest through the glowing hole, and immediately, a surge of essence coursed through him. His transformed body radiated a bright white hue.
“Show me the numbers again!” he shouted.
PERSONAL INFORMATION
Name: Zamian Greenfield
Level: 4 [30%]
Tier: Mortal
Main Pathway: Knowledge
Title: Insightful
Zamian stared at his cultivation progress and started to laugh.
The sound of dozens of voices echoed throughout the library.
“It really works,” he said, caressing the glowing hole in his chest. “Too bad it takes so long to charge… And there’s also a huge problem.”
He looked up, noticing the Light’s essence above had barely shifted. “This place isn’t the best training ground. I bet nowhere in the Sanctuary has this much Light’s essence for you to absorb, shiny guy.”
Tapping his chest three times and seeing no reaction from the orb, he shrugged and crouched, planting his left hand on the floor.
“Time for the second test.”
Channeling essence to fortify his muscles, Zamian jumped, pushing off the ground with both feet and his supporting hand.
Neither the floor nor the tower shook, but a different white light cut through the ceiling above.
He had launched himself so fast that, if not for his enhanced Luminous Senses, he wouldn’t have noticed the wall rushing toward his face.
‘Blighting thing, I can’t even shoot myself in a straight line?!’ he cursed inwardly, twisting midair using his essence and pivoting his body so his reinforced legs faced the wall, hoping to cushion the impact.
Of course, he still crashed.
His outer shell didn’t crack, nor did his insides turn to mush. Every fiber of his being and the white essence coursing through him shifted, instinctively minimizing damage.
It wasn’t luck—Zamian had consciously done that.
‘My control over my body is insane in this form,’ he noted as he started falling, sliding down the wall.
Zamian released bursts of essence to slow his descent, but he still hit the ground with a thunderous crash, rolling a few times before slowly pushing himself to his feet.
“Okay, okay, that was amazing. This speed and control compensate for the blighted cost,” he muttered, throwing a few punches as if shadowboxing against invisible enemies. “Now, let’s try this.”
Zamian unleashed a series of hooks before stopping abruptly.
His instincts berated him so fiercely that he almost smacked the side of his head to shut them up.
Straightening his posture, he brought his right hand into a palm, fingers pressed together like the edge of a blade. Concentrating, he directed white essence into his hand.
Then, he stopped, commanding all the essence to flow into his body instead.
A moment later, the claws on his right hand shifted, his fingers fusing together until a white blade formed—its surface pulsing with glowing veins of light.
Zamian stared at it for a moment before refining the shape, smoothing out the edges until his palm transformed into a double-edged dagger. Unlike the wooden daggers of the Sanctuary, his transformed hand was broader and gleamed with an unnatural sharpness.
Approaching the library’s bookshelf wall, he slashed at it, infusing his blade with Light’s essence.
A resounding thud echoed through his transformed body, sending a jolt of pain through his arm.
The bookshelf wall remained pristine.
Looking at his hand, he shook his head. “I can’t test my strength here…Unless…”
Stilling himself, he entered his soul space, shifting his focus to the white crystals above his head.
His gaze locked onto Eve’s crystal.
And he stared.
And stared.
‘Of course, it wouldn’t work here. Blighted White Dot,’ he thought, leaving the dark space.
After that, he spent a few more minutes experimenting with how he could change his body and refining some attack patterns, eventually settling on three.
The first was pure brute force—punches and kicks, relying on his strengthened muscles and reinforced body.
The second was his arm blade, which he could wield like a spear or sword, versatile and precise.
Lastly, of course, came the shooting orb, his long-range option.
‘Yep, I’d rather brawl… What kind of Scholar am I, White Dot? This blighted Pathway isn’t for me,’ he thought, shaking his head as he approached the white book.
“Okay, I don’t know how much damage I can deal outside, but please, let it be enough to destroy that blighted root prison, or I’ll puke blood until death,” he jested, stopping an arm’s length away from the book.
Not wanting to risk anything now, Zamian deactivated both Luminous Senses and Awakening of True Self.
“There’s no way I want to improve my perception while inside that infinite white light, thank you very much,” he muttered, picking up the book and leaning his back against the bookshelf.
Leisurely, he yawned and flipped it open.
“Shine your light upon me or whatever,” he grinned as white light burst from the pages, flooding his vision.
And as expected, a wall of text followed.
Inheritor Found
Analyzing
Name: Zamian Greenfield
Bloodline: Match
Spirit: Match
Accessing Information
Level: 4 [15%]
Tier (!): Mortal
Main Pathway: Knowledge
(!) Limiting Techniques to Mortal Tier
03 Techniques Found (!)
Heaven Path Alliance - Heavenly Gaze
Description: Truth is boundless, unshackled, and ever-present. It exists beyond reach yet closer than a breath, unseen yet all-encompassing, never bound by distance or form.
Heaven Path Alliance - Heavenly Whisper
Description: Truth lingers within all things, in their every thought, every memory, and every unspoken desire, whispering through the force inside their souls.
Heaven Path Alliance - Heavenly Signs
Description: Truth guides us to know that what is seen can be grasped, what is grasped can be known, and what is known can be passed on.
Zamian read the text in front of him three times.
He didn’t even try to hold back his laughter, slapping the back of his thigh.
“Are you blighting kidding me?” he said between loud laughs, pointing at the glowing text. “Heaven Path Alliance? Okay, there could be a Heaven Pathway, but look at these names! Aren’t they too… grandiose? Is that even a word?”
Shaking his head, he reread the descriptions.
“And yeah, yeah, I expected some dumb oak’s explanation, but what is all this about Truth nonsense? Am I not cultivating the Knowledge Pathway? Didn’t you arrange the right book for this, White Dot?”
He glanced at the corner of his vision, waiting.
“Don’t be shy. You can change the text, and I’ll pretend it never happened,” Zamian whispered. “I promise I won’t tell your friends.”
After a few seconds of silence, he shrugged and focused back on the three techniques he had to choose from.
“Okay, let’s not overcomplicate things,” his eyes shone white. “Heavenly Whisper could be some mind or soul technique—pretty useful—while Heavenly Signs could be literally anything. Maybe an advanced writing technique? Who knows.”
Staring at the last technique, he smirked.
“Let’s keep up with the winning team. This one’s description reminds me of my Nameless Physique,” he said, his choice clear.
You chose a technique
Heaven Path Alliance - Heavenly Gaze
Description: Truth is boundless, unshackled, and ever-present. It exists beyond reach yet closer than a breath, unseen yet all-encompassing, never bound by distance or form.
Zamian felt a piercing sting in his head, followed by a dull ache.
“That means it worked, right?”
He looked at the book’s blank pages and grinned.
This time, he didn’t enter his dark space—he was certain a third white crystal would be there.
Instead, his gaze shifted to the bright white ceiling above, its glow intensifying.
Then, the walls of the White Tower began to shine, and soon, the overwhelming white light consumed his vision once more.
Closing his eyes just before his body was engulfed by the Light’s essence, he muttered, “Time to rest is over. Now, I’m ready to kill.”
And once more, Zamian disappeared, becoming part of the infinite white light.
