“Eric! I sensed it! Shit, Eric, I...for a second there, I felt the sludge in my veins move!”

Eric silently dipped his head. “Take slow, steady breaths, and focus on your cycling. Try to stay with me, no matter how much your channels itch and tingle. Only pull away if you start to feel a sharp pain.”

“Eric, what are you talking about?”

Eric chuckled. “Brace yourself, buddy. I’m about to tap into the storm.”

Closing his eyes once more, Eric thought back to the cultivation manual’s later lessons, recalling its tips on cultivation, and cautions regarding embracing a perilous path. Warnings aside, the manual did make good on its enticements. It seemed that there were ways of speeding up ones path of cultivation, without rupturing one’s cultivation base. But doing so required burning away one’s very life force. Either that, or the life force of another. The particulars were frustratingly vague, counseling those who would dare such a path should seek the advice and counsel of a sect elder, being far beyond the scope of this tome. But the basic premise was simple enough for even Eric to understand.

After cracking through more blockages with the sweet glorious fire that thrummed through his soul, he would normally need days of gentle cultivation to restore himself fully, before daring another surge of Fire Qi. Days that would rapidly turn into weeks as he ascended up the ranks.

Thus, reaching Rank 12 Basic Cultivation in even a couple months time would be a rate of growth normally ascribed not just to geniuses but outright monsters. Gifted young scions of powerful clans with tutors, mentors, and quality cultivation pills galore.

Eric had none of those things.

But what he did have was an affinity for Fire, a knack for blood magics, System access to classes, and a flood of stored experience he was more than happy to burn, right here and now, infusing his inner spirit with an unlimited flood of Potency as his restorative cultivation exercises sparkled with newfound efficiency, his channels restoring themselves in just a fraction of the time it would normally take Eric before his eyes opened wide with sudden revelation. At that moment he felt a connection to this world like he could never have imagined, one with the blazing sunlight overhead and the crystal clear lake far below, one with the wind fiercely blowing through trees rich in life-giving spiritual energy and bundles of impossibly rich spirit fruit alight with the fires of Vitality itself.

For just a heartbeat, Eric was one with it all as he kissed sweet flame a second time in a single day, this time doing his best to channel the blazing fire to gently, oh so gently, blast open the most stubborn deposits of plaque clogging his gates and polluting his channels before he reigned in those blazing hot fires and began cleansing his lymph nodes and meridian channels of toxic waste once more, never having secreted so much waste in a single day, nor having felt simultaneously reborn and utterly drained by the time it was done.

He could barely manage a groan of relief when he finally collapsed upon a conveniently summoned bed of hides, too exhausted even to shower or respond to his friend’s ribbing before slipping into deepest slumber, clearly having pushed himself in ways that even he couldn’t restore fully in such a short period of time.

But the final messages flashing across his mind’s eye before nod claimed it’s due made him think it was worth it, whatever price he had paid.

Basic Fire Cultivation Technique is now Rank 7!

You have successfully achieved Rank 5 as a Basic Fire Cultivator!

You are currently suffering from: Exhaustion.

Eric opened his eyes with a squint, alarmed to find his head throbbing as his eyes were pierced by the light of a white-hot sun, far overhead. His moment of alarm quickly passed as he took in the lush fecund valley he found himself in, catching sight of rice and lotus fields in the distance, dozens of pagodas made of exotic hardwood of various hues, and dozens of bright eyed young men and women with pointy ears and emerald green eyes kneeling before sagacious looking elders radiating wisdom and age for all that their features were unlined, wearing the same white linen robes as the students before them.

Eric flashed an awed smile, not sure if he had somehow been transported like a character in his favorite Isekai novels before realizing a second later with his fluid sense of serenity that this was a dream. Must be a dream.

For all that the sadly smiling elder looking down at him had a presence, an aura, completely alien to his own.

It was a face Eric recognized all too well, quickly kowtowing before the elder that had meandered into so many of his dreams of late.

“This unworthy disciple greets you, Master Cultivator,” Eric quickly said, intuitively understanding the importance of humility and gratitude in this time and place, and feeling absolutely no shame in placating himself before elders clearly wiser with him. Wise elders who just might be willing to share bits of wisdom otherwise completely barred from his planet, thanks to countless puppetmasters who would no doubt love to see humanity fall forever more.

“Raise your head, supplicant.”

Eric quickly did so, catching the elder’s sigh as he slowly shook his head. “To have such potential and be willing to squander it so readily on a fool’s venture.” The ancient elf flashed a sympathetic smile. “I must say, I had hoped you might choose a wiser path.”

Eric gazed at the elder for long moments, the mask of a humble supplicant crumbling under sudden intensity. “The Goblin Consortium might claim mercantile status, but they’re supplying the orc Tribes with privateer assassination squads. Squads comprised of level 30 assassins, one of which put a plasma blast through my sister’s throat.” Eric clenched his fists. “I don’t know… I can only pray she survived. Even as our foes snatched our victory with that one vicious act, the Sylvan Alliance was forced to flee.” Eric shook his head. “They were completely routed. I sensed that with the final rays of the setting sun. We took serious casualties, and loss massive amounts of territory.”

Eric froze as the words left his lips, the elder’s enigmatic expression giving away absolutely nothing.

“I mean… that’s what I saw in my dreams. I, of course, mention this only as a… neutral observer. A Free Agent with absolutely no claimed ties to the Elven Faction whatsoever.” He flashed a fierce smile. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m a Contender who happened to spot multiple territories ripe for the taking. But time is of the essence. I pray you understand.”

The elder gazed at Eric for long moments before giving a sad sigh. “There is so much I can’t say… so much I am forbidden to say, even as I let figments of dream and imagination wash over me, words forgotten as soon as they are said.”

Eric flushed, lowering his gaze. “It is as you say… master.”

“But I can tell you this much. You walk a perilous path, child.” He then flashed an unexpected smile. “A path only the greatest would dare to walk. The greatest, and the most foolish. You know you’ve already paid a price for your daring, don’t you?”

Eric felt his cheeks heat up, his interface choosing that moment to display a final message.

Experience pool now at Zero. Additional 14 days of your life force have been expended in your cultivation pursuits!

Eric froze at that message, feeling a cold chill race down his spine. “But I thought cultivation was supposed to increase life expectancy,” he whispered.

“It’s true. It does,” the elder acknowledged. “Your combination of cultivation affinity, Terran blood arts and a Conscript’s Basic class affords you unique opportunities to push yourself in perilous ways few cultivators would dare.”

Eric winced. “In other words, I can Rank up as fast as I can level up, maybe, even if I risk destroying myself in the process, or shriveling up like a dried up prune, should I lose myself too deeply in purifying my meridian channels once my potency pool runs out.”

The elder dipped his head. “And you’ll require more Potency with each cultivation Rank you would claim, should you continue along this most perilous path. Learning to pull out of the ecstasy of your trance, even should your channels shudder with your exertions, will be crucial for your own survival.”

Eric winced. “Like pulling out mid...” he flushed and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I never was good at that.”

This earned a sad smile. “And the price you pay should you fail in this isn’t the wonders of fatherhood, but the certainty of an early death.” Eric winced under the elder’s hard gaze. “I can appreciate your… dedication to your sister’s tribe, your Free Agent status notwithstanding. But rushing too fast risks folly from which there is no going back.”

Eric swallowed, bowing his head. “I know,” he softly said, surprised to feel the elders comforting grip on his shoulder.

“Remember, disciple. The most important thing is focus. Focus on the careful application of living flame as you clear your blockages. Focus on careful, thorough restoration of all your channels for as many days or weeks as it takes, before you dare crack open and cleanse yet another node.” The elder flashed a sympathetic smile. “And above all else, should you dare the folly that I sense is so true to your nature, relax your cultivation frenzy when the price of blood becomes your own.”

Eric bowed his head. “I will take your words to heart, master,” Eric whispered before blinking his eyes open and fighting just to keep his gourd when the awful smell of his own waste overwhelmed him, Eric pausing long enough only to drink a cold flask of water and ease the pounding on his head before dragging his bedding to the nearby stream and giving it, and his body, a thorough soak, the essence of Fire turning the docile little trough he had carved into the rock into a steaming hot sauna he spent a good long hour soaking in, gazing with a dark smile at the singular Spirit Boar glaring at him from the other side of the blood ward.

Eric stepped out, a bit wrinkled but very much refreshed, before drying off and summoning his blood-linked armaments and weaponry with a thought, flashing a hard smile for the startled looking boar.

“So good of you to stop by. Saves me the trouble of having to hunt you down.”

And before the bison-sized tusker could do more than give a puzzled squeal, Eric was already racing forward, hand on the hilt of his saber before drawing and striking as he raced past the boar, dodging under a confused swipe of the tusks… before spinning around and ripping open the monster with six consecutive X-form draw cuts, the beast squealing in surprised agony as the ground turned crimson with the spray of blood and entrails, Eric’s vicious hewing blows having torn open the pig with gaping wounds so deep that even the hilt of his blade was now drenched with blood.

Had that been a human assassin, Eric’s first slash would have cleaved him in twain, the follow-up handful of cuts no doubt slicing up his victim’s surprised torso and skull in the literal blink of an eye.

But this wasn’t any low level assassin.

This was a level 20+ boar squealing with berserker fury as it spun around, heedless of its own entrails falling upon the forest floor, goring at a furiously weaving and dodging Eric for all it was worth, even as his sword flashed, slashed, and cut, chopping through tusks and tearing open the tusker’s throat before Eric made a single miscalculation, the tiniest of mistakes, that nonetheless resulted in hoof to the gut powerful enough to send Eric tumbling, breathless for a long second as he forced himself upright as his diaphragm fought for air, getting off a wheeze as he stumbled for balance. Yet the momentary jolt of fear he felt at being sent stunned flying so casually, turned to a wry smirk as he gazed upon the glassy eyed monstrosity even now wheezing its last, lungs filling with blood as it left this life behind.

For all that a corner of his mind castigated himself, knowing that he was being the cocky fool risking his life for skill advancements at a mad pace, and that had there been any other tuskers around to take advantage of his flatfooted state…

But there was no other foe present save the massive tusker before him, killed not with polearm, javelin, or crossbow, but by saber alone. A feat that brought a smile to his face. His grin widened all the more with the messages now flooding his mind’s eye, and what an odd sensation it was to feel his body infuse with System enhanced power both similar, and yet utterly different, to the feeling of physical oneness that Cultivation derived stat boosts brought him.

You have successfully slain Greater Spirit Boar using your Saber!

Experience earned!

You have achieved Rank 17 with all Sabers!

And Eric wanted nothing more than to stop right then and there and call it the end of a glorious day. Maybe take his ease, for a little while, his latest vision making it clear he had more than earned the right. That, in fact, he would be an absolute idiot if he did anything but the gentlest of cultivations for the next few days.

And Eric was tempted to do just that. More than tempted, as he gazed fondly at his young disciple, for lack of a better word, showing a brilliant grin beneath his straining features as Eric sensed him making continuous and thankfully safe progress.

But, as Eric explained to his suddenly crestfallen friend, there was more than one path forward, more than one direction in which he could advance, and he was damn well determined to do just that. To put every hour of every day he didn’t need to chow down food or recharge body and mind with his increasingly supercharged Vitality to maximum good use. Especially as he now needed a mere three hours a day to wake up fully cognitively and physically refreshed.

And if he wasn’t going to work out his cultivation, then he’d damn well do his utmost to master the weapon at his hip. Because he could think of few things more useful for his time than gathering as many cadavers for future experimentation, and food, as he could, and rank up each and every weapon skill as close to Adept tier as he could manage. And if forging himself in the absolute heat of porcine conflict might allow the blossoming of a few Adept tier Weapon Perks, then so much the better.

Even when three days became one week, then two… as Saber hit rank 18, then 19 so slowly it felt like a crawl… and he knew he would have to do something extraordinary to finally hit Rank 20.

“Eric, what the hell? This is insane, bro! Completely insane!”

Eric, coughing up blood after being sent flying and losing his weapon from the lightest of grazes from the mastodon-sized tusker he now faced, couldn’t help but agree.

Eyes glittering with inhuman fury glared into Eric’s own as he took shelter once more behind the blood ward that was the only safe exit out of this death match, and Eric somehow knew the monstrous bastard was actually thinking of crashing through the ward. And with the spiritual energy the best was radiating, Eric thought it might be capable of doing just that.

But Eric’s cynical smile matched the creature’s own. Unlike some of its wilder kin, Eric knew this was a savvy creature, and well aware of itself and Eric’s position in this realm of cultivation, including having a strange sense of propriety and order, if the way it had directed its flock to the watering hole Eric had stalked it from was any indication.

Eric felt a cold chill sliver down his spine when he saw not one but both of its tusks light up with an eldritch blue flame, earning a hiss from Sam.

“Shit, Eric, that fire…”

“I know!”

“If hits the wards...”

Eric dared a single look back. “Will it at least weaken it?”

“Sure, but Eric, it sure as fuck won’t stop it!”

Eric cursed softly, sensing the rumble through the air emanating from the boar glaring with such wild-eyed hate Eric’s way. He noted as well the width of their cavern entrance, and the extra steps he had taken.

“Get inside!”

“But Eric, I got poison crossbow bol--”

“Don’t fucking argue. Go! Go now!” Eric roared, feeling only the tiniest measure of relief to his growing anxiety when the boy did just that.

Relief that soon turned to the dread of inevitable doom as the beast before him bellowed with such wrath and fury that Eric felt himself fly back, and if that weren’t a Porcine version of a Titan Shout, he didn’t know what was.