Danial gestured for Sophie to sit on the bed while he took a nearby stool, placing it directly in front of her. Sophie hesitated for a moment, glancing at him before sighing and sitting at the edge of the bed, her hands resting tensely in her lap. Natasha, standing beside Sophie, looked equally concerned. Sophie reached for her hand and pulled her down to sit beside Danial, though Natasha gave him a sympathetic glance, clearly understanding the weight of the conversation that was about to unfold.Danial took a deep breath, rubbing his face with his hands as if trying to gather his thoughts. He locked eyes with Sophie. "Mom, fire away. I won’t hide anything."Sophie narrowed her eyes, her voice thick with concern. "Danial… what is going on?" She looked around as if the entire academy perplexed her. "This place has kids fighting with swords and spears, some even throwing fire and water like magic. What is this academy, and how did you get caught up in all of this?"Danial sighed again, r
Sophie’s eyes pierced through Danial as she sat on the edge of the bed. Her voice was steady but carried the weight of every mother’s fear. “Now to the main question,” she said, her tone brooking no evasion. “Why were you so injured? What happened, and most importantly, who attacked you?”Danial’s chest tightened. He’d been preparing for this question, but now that it was out in the open, he found himself at a loss for words. How could he explain the battle with the Curse King without revealing everything? Without unraveling the complicated web of secrets that involved the Academy, the Cultivation world, and the System that guided him?“Mom,” Danial started slowly, choosing his words carefully, “it’s better if you don’t know. It’ll only make things harder for you to understand. Trust me, it’s not something you need to worry about.”But Sophie wasn’t having any of it. Her face hardened, her determination radiating through her every word. “I don’t care how complicated it is. Do you have
Danial stepped out of the room, taking a deep breath as he adjusted to the commotion just outside. His eyes landed on a familiar scene that made him both smile—and cringe. Pavan was in the middle of an animated conversation with Sophie, his mother, gesturing wildly with his hands. Maria stood nearby, seemingly engaged in a polite yet strained conversation with Natasha. There was a certain tension between the two—a quiet rivalry that seemed to flicker just beneath the surface.Danial’s stomach dropped as he approached his mother. He could feel disaster brewing, especially with Pavan in the middle of it.“Danial!” Sophie called out the moment she spotted him. “Why didn’t you tell me you had such good friends?” Her tone was light, but her eyes were filled with curiosity. There was warmth in her smile, but also the unmistakable glint of a mother digging for more information.Danial forced an awkward smile and threw a quick glare at Pavan, hoping his friend would behave. But Pavan, always
Danial’s eyes narrowed as he sized up the group in front of him, his tone icy as he addressed Leo, “Leo, what do you want?”Leo raised his hands defensively, a mocking grin plastered on his face. “Whoa, easy there, Danial. Nothing serious. I just wanted to see how someone like you is still breathing after facing the Curse King. You’re too damn lucky, you know that?”Danial’s face grew colder. His patience with Leo and his cronies was already running thin. He turned to Natasha and Sophie, his expression softening just a little. “Natasha, take my mom. Go ahead without me. I’ll catch up later.”Sophie’s eyes filled with concern. “Danial… are you sure?”Danial gave her a reassuring smile and a slight nod, though inside, tension simmered just beneath the surface. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Go on.”Sophie hesitated for a moment but then, understanding the unspoken request nodded and walked away with Natasha. The moment they were out of earshot, Danial’s expression hardened once more as he faced L
Danial sighed deeply as he entered the training hall, the weight of the past few days pressing down on him. His encounter with the Curse King had left him feeling powerless, a sensation he despised. No matter how hard he had fought, he couldn’t even scratch his enemy. The memory of it gnawed at him like a thorn lodged deep in his chest. The hall was quiet, a peaceful contrast to the storm raging inside him. Soft light illuminated the polished wooden floors, casting long shadows along the walls. Danial made his way to the center, sitting down in a lotus position, closing his eyes as he prepared to meditate. He had to find the gaps in his technique, to understand why he had failed so miserably. As his breathing steadied, Danial’s mind grew calm, like the surface of a still lake. Slowly, he raised his hand, and with a flick of his wrist, a small flame ignited on the tip of his fingers. He watched it flicker, the warm orange glow casting shadows on his face. The flame expanded into a
Danial blinked several times, adjusting to the new, strange environment that surrounded him. The ground beneath his feet was as dark as coal, jagged and uneven, with a sheen that made it look almost unnatural. Above him, the sky stretched endlessly, filled with countless stars, glittering in a blanket of dense constellations. He squinted against the brightness—staring too long made his eyes burn.“Where am I?” he muttered under his breath, his muscles tensing instinctively. His mind raced. Is this another trick of the Curse King? Did he do something to my consciousness? His heart pounded faster as he scanned the unfamiliar terrain, his senses on high alert.As if in response to his confusion, the familiar System panel appeared in front of him, floating in the void-like realm. A string of text scrolled across its translucent surface: "Your consciousness has been transferred to this realm to train in the Sword Drawing technique."Danial’s eyes widened in shock. Consciousness transferred
Danial’s tension eased slightly. So, this figure wasn’t an intruder but rather an avatar of the swordsman who had created the technique. His mind calmed as the System’s explanation settled in. He had nothing to fear—this was an opportunity.His heartbeat began to slow as curiosity replaced his initial fear. If this was the man who had created the Sword Drawing technique, Danial didn’t want to miss a single detail.The figure stepped forward into better view. The man wore simple robes, their fabric plain and unadorned, the color a faded gray as though worn by time. His face was humble, almost serene, with deep-set eyes that spoke of experience and wisdom. He looked more like a wandering hermit than a powerful warrior—an unassuming figure who might have gone unnoticed in a crowd. But as Danial stared, the man’s presence became increasingly overwhelming. Beneath that humble exterior was an aura of immense power, like a storm quietly raging beneath the surface.The hologram slowly drew th
Danial dumbfoundedly stared at the System panel, the words burning into his mind as if mocking him."1 billion???" His voice echoed through the empty realm, disbelief twisting his face. "What the hell are you talking about? Do you know how much 1 billion represents!?"The System’s cold, emotionless voice replied instantly, cutting through his protests. "This is the condition for leaving the Realm of The Broken Stars."Danial’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He gritted his teeth, feeling the tension in his jaw. For a few moments, he stood there, fists trembling, before he exhaled sharply and collapsed onto the ground. The weight of the challenge before him was crushing. His mind raced, trying to come up with a loophole, an alternative, something—anything—that could get him out of this impossible situation. But as the minutes dragged on, the harsh reality began to settle in."There’s no other way," Danial thought bitterly. "I’m stuck here until I complete one billion repetition
Danial’s mind raced as the hooded figure’s words echoed in his ears. “Fine meal? What does that mean?” A chill ran down his spine. There was no time to dwell on fear. His gaze shifted to Kuro, slumped and barely conscious, and a surge of determination coursed through him. No matter what, I’m getting us out of here.He glanced at Crystal and made a subtle hand gesture, signaling her to prepare. She caught his movement, her eyes widening in surprise, but she quickly composed herself. Taking a deep breath, she began circulating her internal energy, her frosty aura intensifying as she prepared for whatever was to come.Danial turned back to the hooded man, mustering every ounce of courage he had. His voice trembled slightly, but he managed to ask, “W-what do you mean? And who are you?”The hooded figure tilted his head, his hidden gaze boring into Danial. “You are not qualified to know,” he said, his voice low and dismissive. Without further ado, he raised his hand, which began to glow a
Santigo leaned back in his chair, the flickering light casting long shadows across the room. His smile stretched wider, full of mockery and malice, as his gaze shifted lazily between Danial, Pavan, and Crystal. "Took you long enough," he drawled, tapping his fingers on the armrest. "I was almost about to start another session with Kuro, but you arrived on time. Tsk tsk, what a pity."Danial’s eyes darted to Kuro, his chest tightening at the sight of his friend slumped over, bruised and barely conscious. Rage bubbled beneath his calm exterior, his fists clenching so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. He knew what "session" meant—and judging by Kuro’s state, it was far worse than he’d imagined.Gritting his teeth, Danial stepped forward, his fists clenching at his sides. “What do you want from us, Santigo?” His voice was low but edged with anger. “We’ve never crossed paths. We have nothing to do with you. So why drag Kuro into this?”Santigo waved his hand dismissively as if bru
The trio made their way through the desolate industrial district, their steps echoing faintly against the cracked asphalt and rusted pipes that sprawled across the ground. The Lapanzo Foundry loomed in the distance—a massive husk of steel and concrete, its faded name barely visible on the old factory’s rust-eaten board. Broken windows and gaping holes in the walls stared back at them like the hollow eyes of a corpse, and the air was heavy with a metallic tang mixed with an unexplainable decay that clung to their senses.There were no birds, no stray dogs, not even insects. The silence was unnatural, almost suffocating. Each breath they took felt too loud as if the factory itself might hear them.Pavan looked around, his face pale and his voice just above a whisper. "Yeah, this is the place where I’m going to die."Danial shot him a sideways glare. "No one is going to die." His voice was steady, but his jaw was clenched.Ahead, the board with “Lapanzo” scrawled in faded letters jutted
Danial sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers interlocked and his face stoic, though his mind churned with conflicting thoughts. Pavan, pacing back and forth like a caged animal, threw his arms up in frustration. "Danial!" Pavan snapped, his voice rising. "Are you even listening to me? How can you sit there so calmly when Kuro’s life is on the line? And Crystal—she’s a target too!" Danial finally looked up, his eyes sharp and cold. "Calm? Do I look calm to you, Pavan? I’m just not panicking like you are. If we lose focus now, Kuro’s as good as dead. And if Crystal gets caught in this... it’ll be worse." Pavan stopped pacing, running a hand through his hair. "Then tell me, what’s the plan? What are we doing? Because I can’t just stand here waiting for them to kill Kuro." Danial leaned back, exhaling deeply. "We can’t afford to act recklessly. Whoever this is, they’re not some common thug. They know Kuro’s strength, and they still managed to take him down. That tells me this is pers
Santigo paced around Kuro, his leather boots thudding against the cold, damp concrete floor. The dim overhead light flickered sporadically, casting ominous shadows across the room. The sharp edges of Santigo's features seemed exaggerated in the erratic glow, giving him an almost predatory appearance."Ah, cousin," Santigo drawled, his tone mockingly sweet as he circled Kuro. You look so pitifully tied up like this. I must say, it suits you—a star brought down to earth, groveling in the dirt."Kuro's wrists were bound tightly behind his back, and his legs were shackled to the chair he was forced to sit on. His clothes were torn, and his breath was ragged, but his eyes burned with a fiery defiance that refused to be extinguished.Santigo crouched down to meet Kuro’s glare, his grotesque grin widening. "Tell me, cousin," he whispered, his voice laced with venom, "how does it feel to have the tables turned for once? To be... insignificant?"Kuro’s chest heaved, his breath shallow but stead
Pavan’s hands shook uncontrollably as he processed the words he had just heard. His friend’s life was hanging by a thread, and the weight of the situation bore down heavily on him. His normally composed demeanor was in tatters, replaced by fear and anxiety.Danial, though visibly calmer, felt a storm brewing within. His sharp mind worked through the possibilities, piecing together how this could have happened. Kuro is strong, far stronger than most people realize. For someone to have captured him, this isn’t just about strength—it’s planning, manipulation… or something far worse.Pavan’s voice broke through Danial’s thoughts. “D-Danial, we can’t handle this on our own. We need to go to the authorities, to someone who can—”Danial interrupted, his tone firm but low. “We can’t.” His eyes locked onto Pavan’s. “You heard him. If we go to the authorities, Kuro’s life is the first thing he’ll take.”Pavan clenched his fists, frustration, and helplessness written all over his face. “But… wha
The emissaries from Emsgate couldn’t hide their broad smiles as Tanya descended the arena steps. Their demeanor was almost triumphant, as though Tanya’s victory over Viktor was a personal affront to Somerland. Tanya, however, walked with a quiet pride, ignoring the subtle gloating. Behind her, the terrain of the arena shifted and morphed back to its original flat state, the transformation accompanied by a low rumble.Viktor, meanwhile, trudged down the steps on the opposite side, his head hung low. The sting of defeat gnawed at him, and the weight of representing Somerland felt heavier with each step. In his heart, he felt as though he had disgraced his homeland.Waiting for him near the entrance was his master, a tall man with graying hair. The master’s sharp eyes softened as Viktor approached, clearly burdened. Placing a hand on Viktor’s shoulder, he spoke firmly yet kindly:“Viktor, just because you lost does not mean you failed to prove your worth. Your worth is measured by how ha
Elyisa put her hand into the ballot and took out two folded paper slips. She unfolded the slips with an air of authority. “Tanya from Emsgate and Viktor from Somerland,” she announced, her voice echoing throughout the stadium. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the audience as she reached into the twist and terrain ballot. Unfurling the next slip, she declared, “They will be fighting in a mountainous area. They will have to complete the fight in under four minutes, or both participants will be disqualified.”The crowd erupted in a cacophony of cheers and startled whispers.“Four minutes? Is that even enough time for a proper fight in such rugged terrain?” one spectator exclaimed.“And they’ll both be disqualified if no winner emerges? That’s brutal,” another muttered, shaking their head.The tension was palpable as Tanya, seated among the participants, felt a pang of nervousness grip her chest. Her hands balled into fists on her lap as she stared at the giant screen displaying her name
As the first rays of sunlight graced the sprawling Capital, a vibrant energy filled the air. The second day of the Tournament of Sovereign Might had arrived, and the anticipation was palpable. Crowds thronged the streets, surging toward the massive stadium like waves, eager to secure their seats. Yesterday's attendance had been monumental, but today, it seemed to have doubled. Vendors called out, selling snacks and memorabilia, while children tugged at their parents, buzzing with excitement. The tournament fever had gripped the Capital, and all eyes were on the arena.Inside the stadium, the atmosphere was electric. Spectators filled the stands, the din of their chatter building into a crescendo. The VIP sections gleamed with luxury, reserved for the most influential figures in society: the Greatest Families. Clad in their signature styles, representatives from these families arrived in a display of opulence and prestige, each taking their place in the exclusive area.In the Kirk fami