Chapter 38 – Gifts and Unspoken Truths
A full year had passed in the Forest of No Return.
Jin stood at its edge, bloodstained robes flapping gently in the breeze, his eyes calm yet sharper than ever before. The air beyond the forest felt different—lighter, almost welcoming. Gorr, the Stone-Tusk Ravager, now in his ring, remained dormant after absorbing the adept core. Jin took one final glance at the towering trees, the echoing roars deep within them, and stepped out.
Awaiting him near the hut was the old man, leaning casually against a boulder, arms crossed and lips curved slightly in amusement.
"You survived," the old man said without looking at him. "Not bad."
"I tamed a beast, killed another, and nearly died six times," Jin replied dryly.
"Only six? I thought you'd at least hit double digits." A chuckle escaped the old man before his expression turned serious. "Your foundation's firmer now. You learned more in one year than most sect disciples do in five."
He stepped forward and flicked his wrist, producing three items, each glowing with a faint but distinct aura.
"Your rewards."
Jin's gaze sharpened.
The first item floated to him—a simple-looking silver shield pendant etched with runes.
"This," the old man said, "is a soul-bound defensive treasure. It can block a single full-powered strike from a late-stage Grandmaster Realm cultivator. Don't waste it on anything less."
Jin's fingers closed around it, feeling the subtle warmth of spiritual energy as it linked to his soul.
"Next," the old man handed him a black spatial ring. "Your own ring. Inside is a duplicate of every book and manual from my library. Every elemental, body, and soul technique you might need—whether now or a hundred years later. Don't disappoint me."
Jin's brows raised slightly at the sheer weight of that gift, but he silently accepted it, sliding the ring onto his finger with reverence.
"And lastly—"
The old man raised his palm, and the sword that had once nearly gotten Jin killed in the forest hovered into view, now gleaming with restrained power.
"This sword is called Gravemist Fang. I forged it myself centuries ago. It has its own will. You failed to understand it before and paid the price." The old man's tone turned sharp. "But now you're worthy. Train with it. Master it. Or die trying."
Jin received the blade with both hands this time. He could feel the subtle pulse inside it—as though the weapon was watching him.
He bowed slightly. "Thank you… Master."
The title had come naturally. Unspoken until now, but long earned.
The old man didn't acknowledge it with words, only nodded slightly and turned his gaze to the horizon.
"Your talent is both a gift and a curse," he said after a pause. "I didn't ask about your four-element stunt. I don't care. It'll only make your life harder. If you can survive that path… then maybe, just maybe, you'll stand at the pinnacle."
Jin met his gaze and nodded. "I'll carve my path. No matter what."
As Jin turned to leave, the old man spoke again, his voice strangely quiet, almost carrying a weight Jin couldn't decipher.
"As long as you remain on planet Detrox, I will protect you."
Jin froze mid-step.
He turned slowly. "Planet… Detrox?"
The old man waved him off like it was nothing. "You're not ready to understand. Not yet. Just know… this world is small."
Jin's mind raced, but there was no more explanation. Only silence.
With furrowed brows, he gave a half bow. "Thank you, Master."
He didn't press further. Not now.
Back in his personal space, within the wooden cottage layered with essence-gathering formations, Jin finally sat cross-legged on his mat. He placed Gravemist Fang to his side, fingers brushing the hilt for comfort, then activated his Silent Flame Meditation.
His mind detached from his body once more, floating above himself in a third-person view.
The forest replayed itself in his thoughts—the agile leopards, the armored rhino, the explosion that nearly turned the forest to ash.
Despite all that… his cultivation level hadn't moved. Still early-stage Adept Realm.
But that was fine.
"I don't need more power yet," he whispered to himself. "I need to be stronger."
His priorities were clear now:
—Refine his body further. Complete Titan Vein Tempering.
—Advance in soul cultivation, no matter how elusive.
—Perfect his elemental coordination and transition between techniques.
He had hundreds of techniques now. But techniques alone were useless if they weren't wielded with instinct, flow, and efficiency.
The next year would be brutal. The world wasn't going to wait for him to catch up. His enemies were already ahead.
But for now, he had time. And resolve.
He opened his eyes, flames of determination in his pupils.
One year left. Then the Grand Ascension Tournament.