After Aunt Mira and Lyanna departed for work and school respectively, Vaelor changed into comfortable street clothes and left the apartment. His immediate priorities were clear: test his current combat capabilities at a training facility, then purchase substantial quantities of beast meat to fuel his cultivation.
His wallet was going to suffer, but necessary investments required sacrifice.
Crimsonpeak Martial Hall - a modest establishment tucked into a quiet side street, far from the prestigious commercial district gymnasiums.
Inside the spacious practice area, a young woman stood barefoot on the polished floor, eyes closed in meditation. She gripped an alloy spear with practiced ease, her posture suggesting years of dedicated training. The sound of the entrance door chiming caused her eyes to snap open.
She approached the front desk, spear still in hand, and found a young man waiting.
"Can I help you?" Her voice was melodious but distinctly cold, as if warmth was a luxury she couldn't afford.
Vaelor turned toward the sound.
His assessment was immediate and involuntary: the hall's proprietor was a striking woman in her early twenties. Raven-black hair pulled into a high ponytail accentuated sharp, heroic features—beautiful in an austere, martial way that suggested she valued function over aesthetics.
"I need to test my combat power," Vaelor stated simply.
Not here to enroll as a student then...
The woman—whose nameplate read "Kieran Ashford"—felt a flicker of disappointment. Ever since her father Roderic Ashford had disappeared into an Abyssal Rift expedition two years ago, she'd inherited this struggling establishment. Her complete incompetence with social interaction had resulted in exactly zero new student enrollments over six months. At this rate, bankruptcy was inevitable.
Looking at the handsome teenager before her, Kieran thought cynically: Another kid who just awakened and wants to see his skill damage numbers...
Common enough. They came, tested, left, never returned.
"Follow me." Her tone remained professionally distant as she turned and walked deeper into the facility.
Kieran led Vaelor to a sophisticated piece of equipment—a sleek metallic pillar approximately two meters tall with a crystalline impact surface.
"Combat Power Analyzer," she explained curtly. "Strike with full force. It provides accurate readings of your current damage output."
"Testing fee is 500 points."
Having delivered this information, Kieran walked away without further comment, returning to the empty training floor to resume her spear form practice. She was currently a Tier 2 Warrior at LV18, profession: Lancer. If she could break through to Tier 3 soon, perhaps the hall's reputation would improve enough to attract actual students.
Left alone, Vaelor faced the analyzer with focused intensity.
He exhaled slowly, centering himself. His right leg shifted back half a step while his right fist drew back to chamber position. Muscles contracted in precise sequence, vitality surging through optimized pathways.
Body, mind, and spirit aligned at peak synchronization.
Then—he struck.
BOOM!
The impact resonated with a deep, visceral tone that somehow sounded... wrong. Too solid. Too powerful.
Kieran's head snapped around, surprise flickering across her normally impassive features.
Why did that sound—
Her gaze found the analyzer's display.
673... 6730?!!
Kieran's expression froze completely, mind struggling to process the information.
Meanwhile, Vaelor examined the number with calm satisfaction.
Combat power generally translated to roughly ten times raw strength. For baseline comparison: a Tier 1 LV1 Warrior with 10 vitality, having awakened a common warrior profession, possessed approximately 100 strength—generating combat power between 1000-2000.
His casual punch had produced three times a standard Tier 1 Warrior's output.
If anyone knew, they'd be absolutely shocked.
"Now let's see the Vibrational Force amplification," Vaelor murmured.
He raised his fist again. This time, his vitality manifested visibly—rich crimson energy coalescing around his knuckles before transforming into rippling waves that covered his entire fist like liquid armor.
The punch flew.
BOOM!
The analyzer shuddered violently from the impact. A new number materialized:
10,672
"Nearly fifty percent amplification. Not bad."
And this was still far from his absolute limit. If he activated his [Martial Cultivation God] techniques, damage should multiply by five to ten times minimum...
But before he could prepare another test—
Clang.
The sharp sound of metal striking floor came from behind him.
Vaelor turned.
Kieran stood frozen, mouth slightly agape, staring at the analyzer display with an expression of complete disbelief. Her alloy spear lay on the ground at her feet, apparently dropped unconsciously.
"Ten... over ten thousand damage?" she whispered.
"That's impossible..."
This far exceeded Tier 1 Warrior limits—entering legitimate Tier 2 Warrior damage ranges!
Her first instinct screamed that the machine had malfunctioned. But she'd used this analyzer just this morning during her own training. It had functioned perfectly.
Which left only one explanation...
The handsome, lean, obviously-not-wealthy high school student standing before her had genuinely dealt over 10,000 damage.
Absolutely incomprehensible.
"How?" Kieran blurted out, professional composure completely abandoned. "What's your vitality measurement? Is it over ten? What martial arts do you practice? Your awakened talent—is it strength-based? What profession?"
Vaelor's brow furrowed with confusion.
Why would I tell a stranger my private information? Is this woman mentally unstable? No wonder her hall is empty.
"Well... I have other errands to run. Thanks for the test." He turned toward the exit, eager to escape this increasingly weird situation.
A genius! This is absolutely a genius!
Kieran's eyes literally glowed with excitement. Such a prodigy couldn't be allowed to simply walk away!
Seeing Vaelor about to leave, panic seized her.
"Wait! Please wait!"
She blurred forward with Tier 2 speed, reaching out to grab his arm—
Vaelor's expression turned cold. His body twisted reflexively, evading the grab at the critical instant. His counter-strike came immediately—a devastating uppercut wreathed in crimson ripples, aimed directly at Kieran's chin with explosive force.
Kieran's eyes widened with delight rather than alarm.
"Perfect counter-technique!"
"And such incredible combat instinct!"
Her excitement intensified further!
She caught Vaelor's heavy strike with one hand. The shockwave from their collision exploded outward, creating a miniature whirlwind that made every weapon hanging on the walls vibrate with resonance.
Vaelor frowned deeply. "What exactly do you want?"
He sensed no killing intent, otherwise this would become his first genuine death battle since awakening. Even against a Tier 2 Warrior, he didn't believe he'd lose.
Kieran gripped his fist, her face flushed, breathing accelerated, words tumbling out in breathless excitement: "You—you should come join us—"
Vaelor froze, his expression becoming distinctly uncomfortable.
Oh god. I've encountered a female predator.
"Haa..." Kieran's face moved closer to his, close enough that her natural magnolia scent filled his awareness, making his heartbeat accelerate involuntarily.
She's definitely after my body.
Damn it.
Looking at the flawless pale skin and full rosy lips at such proximity, Vaelor closed his eyes with resignation.
Fine! Come on then, you beast of a woman!
"Come join our guild!"
"..."
"...Huh?"
Vaelor's eyes snapped open in confusion, meeting Kieran's gaze—which overflowed with hopeful anticipation rather than predatory hunger.
"Guild?"
"Yes! The Crimson Rose Guild!"
Kieran explained rapidly, her usual cold demeanor completely abandoned. Initially she'd intended to recruit him as a martial hall student, but after experiencing his actual combat power firsthand, she'd changed her mind entirely.
Dealing this much damage suggested he might already be a Tier 1 Warrior—definitely rare talent with maxed offensive potential.
More importantly: he was young, with enormous growth potential!
"You haven't joined a guild yet, correct?" Kieran pressed.
Vaelor shook his head.
"Our guild is small currently—we desperately need a damage-focused attacker. If you join, you'll receive a monthly subsidy of 50,000 points. Equipment obtained from hunting Abyssal Spawn is distributed based on need. Gold and materials are converted to corresponding value splits. Plus you can use our training facilities completely free."
Vaelor's interest was genuinely piqued.
Fifty thousand monthly, plus free facility access...
Martial halls typically equipped gravity chambers where cultivation efficiency doubled. Outsiders normally paid 30,000 points per hour for access.
"If I join, am I required to sign long-term contracts?"
"Either long-term or short-term contracts are available."
"Sounds reasonable enough."
Kieran brightened with hope. "So you agree?"
"There's one problem though."
"?"
"My vitality hasn't reached ten yet. I'm not a Tier 1 Warrior, so I can't legally enter Abyssal Rifts or dungeons." Vaelor looked genuinely apologetic.
Kieran froze completely.
Then her eyes widened to an almost comical degree. "You—what did you just say?"
"You haven't even reached Tier 1 yet?!!"
Seeing Vaelor nod confirmation, she inhaled sharply, her expression cycling through shock, disbelief, and something approaching existential crisis.
Not even LV1, but damage exceeding 10,000...
What kind of monster is this?!
"Let's discuss this after I achieve Tier 1 Warrior status," Vaelor suggested reasonably.
"I—I'll inform the guild leader immediately. Let's exchange contact information first. My name is Kieran Ashford. And yours?"
"Vaelor Draeth."
Kieran repeated the name silently, committing it to memory as they completed the information exchange.
But as Vaelor turned to leave, a thought struck him. That delivery woman's acceleration talent—he'd comprehended its complete mechanism last night. Theory was one thing; practical application was another entirely.
"Actually... may I test one more strike?" Vaelor asked.
Kieran blinked in surprise but gestured toward the analyzer. "Of course. No additional charge."
Vaelor returned to the machine, closing his eyes briefly. In his mind, he visualized the exact sequence he'd observed: vitality surging through the Governing Vessel to the Conception Vessel, then activating seven specific spinal acupoints in rapid succession to create cascading amplification...
He raised his fist.
Crimson ripples coated his knuckles as before—but this time, something additional happened. Blue energy flickered across his arm as he executed the acceleration talent's activation sequence perfectly.
His fist didn't just strike—it accelerated mid-motion, multiplying the impact force exponentially.
BOOM!
The combat analyzer's entire frame shuddered violently, metal groaning under stress it wasn't designed to handle. Warning lights flashed across its surface.
The number that appeared made Kieran's legs actually give out. She sat down hard on the floor, staring:
23,847
"Im... impossible..." she breathed. "You just... what did you..."
Vaelor examined his fist with fascination, blue energy still crackling faintly along his meridians.
"So I really can copy talents by comprehending them," he murmured, wonder and excitement mixing in his voice. "Absolute Insight isn't just for learning techniques—it lets me replicate origin talents themselves..."
The implications were staggering. Every talented individual he observed became a potential source of new abilities. His growth potential wasn't just exponential—it was effectively unlimited.
Kieran remained on the floor, looking up at him with an expression mixing awe, terror, and desperate hope that he'd actually join her struggling guild.
Vaelor offered her a slight apologetic smile. "I'll contact you after reaching Tier 1. Promise."
Then he left, leaving Kieran sitting alone in her empty hall, staring at a combat analyzer displaying impossible numbers, wondering if she'd just witnessed the birth of the next legendary warrior—or something far more unprecedented.
After departing the martial hall, Vaelor headed directly to the Beast Market—a sprawling commercial district specializing in Abyssal Spawn harvesting products.
He spent his entire savings purchasing massive quantities of processed beast meat, arranging for cooking and home delivery. Additionally, he acquired a Tier 1 vitality restoration potion worth 10,000 points—capable of replenishing energy reserves and accelerating physical recovery.
When the transactions completed, Vaelor's account balance read: 0.00
"The saying 'poor in scholarship, wealthy in martial arts' really isn't an exaggeration," he sighed, actual pain in his voice at seeing those zeroes.
"But this much meat should last several days at least."
Once his vitality broke through ten and he achieved Tier 1 Warrior status, he could legally enter Abyssal Rifts to earn real money.
Sitting on the Skyrail heading home, Vaelor's watch vibrated.
[New message received]
Seraphine Vex: Come out!
Vaelor: What for?
Seraphine: Duel!
Vaelor's eyes softened with nostalgia.
Ten years ago, Seraphine's family had lived near his. Their parents had been close friends, visiting frequently. But after her father's promotion and her mother's pharmaceutical business expansion, the Vex family moved to the wealthy district. Around the same time, Vaelor's parents left for their respective work assignments. He'd stayed with Aunt Mira for school stability, and the families had gradually lost touch.
After a moment's consideration, he replied: "Time and place?"
Seraphine: 9 PM tonight. Starlight Park.
Vaelor: Confirmed.
Just as he sent the response, the entire Skyrail car lurched violently.
"ALERT! ALERT!"
Vaelor's head snapped up in alarm.
Emergency sirens blared throughout the transit system, bathing everything in pulsing red light. Passengers erupted into panicked chaos.
"What's happening?!"
"Is it an earthquake?!"
Vaelor felt something—an instinctive warning that raised every hair on his body. He turned toward the window, pupils contracting sharply.
In the previously clear, cloudless sky, a massive black fissure had torn open—as if reality itself had been cut. Cracks spread outward from the wound like shattered glass, radiating an aura of wrongness that made his soul recoil instinctively.
"What is that thing...?" An office worker pressed against the window, face pale with primal terror.
CRACK—
A terrifying shockwave erupted from the spatial tear, splitting half the visible sky. The force came cascading toward Thornhaven City below like an apocalyptic tsunami, obliterating clouds and promising to crush everything in its path.
Vaelor's entire body tensed, every combat instinct screaming danger beyond anything he'd ever experienced.
In another Skyrail car several tracks over, a blue-haired woman with black silk covering her eyes looked toward the disturbance with confusion.
"What in the world is happening?" she murmured, reaching up to remove her blindfold—
A middle-aged woman beside her caught her wrist firmly. "Don't. Not here."
Simultaneously, multiple figures materialized in the airspace above Thornhaven City.
Headmaster Gareth Ironveil stood among them, though notably positioned in the rear ranks. The formation's leader was an elderly man with flowing white hair and a sword strapped across his back—his mere presence radiating pressure that distorted the air around him.
"BEGONE!" The old man's shout detonated like thunder itself, his voice carrying power that made reality tremble.
He raised one hand toward the incoming apocalyptic shockwave—
And stopped it.
The collision between two impossible forces created a secondary shockwave that, while drastically reduced, still impacted the city significantly.
Skyrail cars shuddered violently in their tracks. Glass windows specifically reinforced to withstand missile impacts developed spiderweb cracks. Passengers screamed and clutched desperately at anything solid.
Vaelor gripped his seat's armrest, eyes locked on the sky, watching the titanic powers clash above his city.
What is that...?
What could tear reality itself apart?
And more concerning: Why did he feel like something fundamental had just changed—like the world had crossed a threshold it could never uncross?
The countdown to something terrible had just begun.