Sylas was a quiet and timid boy.
He had blonde hair and clear blue eyes. At first glance, he didn't look bad at all. But because he rarely exercised and had always been physically weak, his body was thin to the point of looking slightly malnourished.
He lived in a small but comfortable house with his mother, father, and two siblings. It wasn't a wealthy household, but they managed well enough.
Unlike Sylas, the rest of his family could use magic.
His father worked as a low-rank earth mage, helping with construction around town. His mother could use basic healing spells. Even his younger siblings had already begun learning how to gather mana properly.
Sylas was the only exception.
Because of that, he was treated a little differently. Not hated, not abused — just… set aside. Expectations were lower. Conversations about the future rarely included him.
Still, his mother cared for him deeply. She never allowed anyone to openly mock him, and she always made sure he was fed before herself.
The problem layed in his constitution.
No matter how many times he tried, Sylas couldn't gather mana into his core. The moment mana entered his body, it scattered before it could circulate. His internal pathways were unstable, almost damaged from birth.
Officially, the healers had said it was a "defective mana structure."
Unofficially, it meant he had no future as a mage.
The condition wasn't completely hopeless. With enough time, intense mental and physical training, and the support of specialized magic pills designed to stabilize internal pathways, recovery was possible.
But those pills were expensive. Far too expensive for a family like his to buy regularly. Spending that kind of money on someone who might never recover was seen as a bad investment.
In this era, strength was measured by the mana core. Every mage possessed one. The core was formed once a person successfully gathered and compressed mana inside their body. From that point on, cultivation was about one thing — making the core denser and more stable.
The denser the core, the stronger the mage. Power, control, endurance — all of it depended on the quality of the core. Over time, a ranking system was established to classify mages more clearly.
There were eight known ranks.
Rank 1 was the starting point — a newly formed core, unstable and weak. Ranks 2 and 3 were considered average. Most working mages never advanced beyond that. Ranks 4 and 5 were respectable. At that level, a mage could hold important positions in cities or join elite military units.
Rank 6 was rare.
Rank 7 was legendary.
In the current world, the most renowned mages — including what was written in the scrolls about the Five Heroes — had reached the 7th Rank. It was widely accepted that Rank 8 was theoretically possible, but no one had ever proven it.
Scholars debated it constantly. Some believed Rank 8 was only a myth. Others claimed it required a completely different method of cultivation.
But no one had ever stepped beyond Rank 7.
That was the official record.
Rin knew the truth. Ranks did not end at eight. In his previous life, during the war against the Demon King, he and the other five had broken past those limits. Rank 8 was only the beginning of true transformation. Rank 9 required complete control over one's body, mind, and mana. Rank 10 — the level they had reached during the final battle — was something entirely different. At that stage, the core no longer simply stored mana. It reshaped the body itself. Back then, they had no system to name those levels. No one had lived long enough to record it properly.
And after his death, history had conveniently stopped at Rank 7. Rin leaned back against the wall, thinking quietly. In this new world, Rank 7 was considered the peak. That meant everyone was still climbing a mountain he had already reached the summit of.
The problem was—
He currently couldn't even form a Rank 1 core.
....
Rin sat cross-legged on the floor and closed his eyes. Modern cultivation methods were built for safety. After the war, the Five had simplified everything. They removed the dangerous steps. They removed the unstable compression techniques. They removed soul synchronization entirely. The result was stable. But limited. The reason no one could surpass Rank 7 anymore was simple. They were building hollow cores.
In the current era, forming a mana core followed three basic steps: Gather external mana. Guide it through internal pathways. Compress it inside the lower abdomen until it stabilizes into a core.
It was straightforward.
But it relied entirely on intact pathways. That was Sylas' problem. His pathways were fractured. Mana leaked the moment it entered his body. Following the modern method would never work. Rin exhaled slowly. His original cultivation method had never relied purely on pathways.
Because lightning was different. Lightning mana was violent. It wasn't gentle like water or steady like earth. If guided improperly, it damaged the user before it damaged the enemy. That was why Rin had created a method suited only for himself.
It had three foundations:
Body as Conductor. Mind as Regulator. Soul as Anchor.
Modern mages skipped the body almost entirely. They focused on mana control first. That was their mistake. Lightning required a reinforced vessel. In his previous life, Rin had spent years strengthening his body before attempting high-density compression. Muscle fibers, nerves, even bone marrow had to adapt to mana flow.
Without that preparation, lightning mana would burn through internal channels. In this body, the situation was worse. The pathways were damaged, yes — but that also meant he wasn't bound by their natural structure. Instead of repairing them directly, he would rebuild them from the outside inward.
Step One: Physical Reinforcement.
Rin opened his eyes and examined his thin arms. This body couldn't handle even a spark of true lightning mana yet. He would begin with controlled micro-circulation. Not pulling mana into the core. Not even trying to form a core. Instead, he would draw the smallest possible amount of ambient mana and allow it to disperse across his muscle tissue. The goal wasn't storage. It was adaptation.
Mana exposure strengthened tissue slowly over time. Most people never noticed because their bodies adjusted naturally during early cultivation. But if done deliberately — carefully — it could reinforce weak pathways indirectly. The pain would be constant. But manageable.
Step Two: Nerve Conditioning.
Lightning mana interacted directly with the nervous system. That was both its strength and its danger. Rin's old method involved stimulating the nerves with controlled pulses of mana, forcing them to become more resistant to internal shock. Over time, the nerves adapted, allowing higher voltage mana to pass safely.
Of course, attempting that now would cripple Sylas' body. So he would begin with breath control. Breathing wasn't just about oxygen. Proper breathing stabilized heart rhythm. Stable heart rhythm stabilized nerve response. Stable nerves allowed smoother mana contact. Modern cultivation manuals barely mentioned this. They focused only on mana flow patterns. Rin smiled faintly. They were building houses without reinforcing the foundation.
Step Three: Soul Synchronization.
This was the part the Five never shared. Every mage had a soul resonance — an internal frequency that aligned with a certain element. Most people discovered their element through trial. Rin had always resonated with lightning. But resonance alone wasn't enough. True advancement required synchronization between soul and core. In his previous life, when he broke through Rank 8, he realized something crucial: The core did not generate power. The soul did. The core was merely a container and amplifier. If the soul was weak, the core would always hit a limit. That was why Rank 7 had become the ceiling in this era.
No one trained their soul anymore.
Rin placed a hand over his chest. Right now, Sylas didn't even have a proper core. But the soul was intact. Reincarnation hadn't erased it. He could still feel it — faint but steady. That was enough. The plan was simple in theory:
Strengthen the body through controlled mana exposure. Stabilize the nerves through breath and micro-stimulation. Gradually reconstruct pathways using reinforced tissue as scaffolding. Only then form a new core. Not a hollow one. A compressed, high-density lightning core. It would take weeks, maybe even months. But once formed, it would serve as a good foundation.
Rin opened his eyes. His body trembled slightly just from sitting upright this long. Weak. But not hopeless. He extended his senses and carefully drew in a thread of mana thinner than a strand of hair. The moment it entered his body, pain spread across his chest. He did not stop it. Instead of forcing it toward his damaged pathways, he let it disperse into his muscles.
It burned. His breathing became uneven. He adjusted it. Slow inhale. Long exhale. Steady rhythm. The mana scattered naturally. That was fine. Today wasn't about success. It was about adaptation. Sweat formed on his forehead after only a few seconds. He released the mana completely and leaned back against the wall. His body felt sore — but slightly warmer than before.
Progress.
In this peaceful world, people believed cultivation began with forming a core.
Rin knew better. Cultivation began with surviving your own power. And this time, he would build himself correctly from the very beginning.