In the waiting area.The air was thick with disbelief, as though time itself had frozen mid-breath.Every participant—whether from the first or second group—stood utterly speechless, their gazes locked on the battlefield.To them, Oasis had been standing quietly just moments ago, calm and silent, his presence unnoticed amidst the chaos.Yet now, as if the world itself had blinked five times, he was standing before Nova Sparrow—her limp, unconscious body swaying gently in the aftermath of unleashed power.Gasps rippled through the chamber.The silence was deafening, punctuated only by the fading hum of residual energy that still shimmered faintly in the air like distant echoes of a storm.The thousands in the audience shared the same stunned expression—eyes wide, mouths slightly agape, as they tried to comprehend what had just happened.The transition had been so fast that not even the Enlightened among them had caught a trace of his movement.One heartbeat, Nova had been consumed by a

Earlier…After the chaos, Amon’s announcement and the uproar that followed, the vast sanctuary slowly began to settle.The spectators were still buzzing with disbelief, but within the inner corridors reserved for participants, the silence was heavy — solemn even.The participants had left the waiting area and dispersed into the resting chambers, their footsteps echoing faintly across the polished floors.The faint hum of mana still lingered in the air, whispering remnants of the intense energy that had shaken the entire Sanctuary.Inside the long hallway lined with ornate silver lamps floating gently above, Oasis emerged quietly from his chamber.He had changed into a simple azure robe, its fabric light and smooth, rippling faintly as he walked.His hair caught the glow of the mana lanterns, shimmering faintly like threads of starlight against the tranquil blue of his clothing.The soles of his new shoes clicked softly on the stone — each step deliberate, steady, and filled with purpo

“Guaranteed, huh?” Oasis thought, his eyes narrowing faintly. “But that feels like predestination.Still… I suppose it’s better that way—if a parent leaves their wisdom behind, then their children won’t have to start from zero in this cruel cultivation world.”He paused, his expression thoughtful, then asked aloud, “So… does this technique still work if someone was born with a body constitution that rejects mana?Or a body too fragile to even endure cultivation?”“Hmm…” Physician Jojo stroked his beard thoughtfully, the faint shimmer of runic light reflecting from his wrinkled fingers.“In that case, it would be… difficult. I’ve never personally encountered such a condition, but I’ve read about it in old manuals.The best solution would be to treat the body first—alter its constitution—then attempt wisdom imparting.Meaning… whoever intends to leave behind their cultivation’s wisdom must first ensure their disciple or child can actually withstand it.”He paused, then added with a know

Meanwhile — Somewhere Northwest from VerdantiaThe Kingdom of Duskreed, City of Genowa.The storm had come like an omen.Thunder rolled across the blackened skies as lightning tore through the clouds, painting fleeting flashes over a city drowning in chaos.The heavy rain fell like shards of glass, hammering against the stone walls of Genowa — a fortress city now turned into a battlefield.Every tower, every street, and every corner trembled under the relentless bombardment from outside.The enemy siege engines roared in the distance, catapults flinging flaming boulders and enchanted projectiles that exploded against the shimmering protective runes on the city walls.Each impact made the air quake and sent a ripple of light through the defensive barrier, which was now flickering weakly like a candle in the wind.Archers and spearmen lined the ramparts, their soaked armor glinting with flashes of lightning as they loosed mana-infused arrows and Spears into the storm.The scent of wet e

“What consequences you speak of?” Wren said as he lifted his chin slightly, eyes narrowing across the storm-blurred distance at Welvard’s hovering silhouette.The rain hammered down between them, thick and heavy, each drop like a silver nail driven into the earth.“You speak as if we of the Kingdom of Vilnara are afraid of you people.”Welvard’s gaze shifted to him—slowly, deliberately—like someone acknowledging an insect crawling on his boot.No admiration. No curiosity. Not even malice. Only insignificance.“Who are you?” Welvard asked, voice cutting through the rain with effortless sharpness.“I am the third general of the Kingdom of Vilnara, directly under King Evaco Bafrana—the Fourth King of Vilnara.”Wren lifted his chin even more, rain drumming over his armor like steady war-drums.“I am known as General Wren Guinevere of the Deadly Halberd.”His voice rang out above the thunder, powerful and practiced—meant to be heard over the roar of war.And his soldiers responded.The ran