Jason stood before the three sisters, his expression calm yet firm. Over the past two weeks, they had grown tremendously in their cultivation of spirit Qi, each one of them reaching the Inner Sea Realm in mind boggling speed, mainly thanks to the bloodline of the Leviathan and its cultivation manual. However, it was time for him to shift his focus.
"You've made incredible progress, reaching the Inner Sea Realm in such a short time." Jason began, his voice steady. "Your connection to your inner seas is strengthening, and your grasp of the laws is becoming sharper. But there's more to cultivation than mastering spirit Qi. To truly ascend, one must also cultivate the soul."
Ramla tilted her head, curiosity gleaming in her deep blue eyes. "The soul? How is that different from what we've been practicing with spirit Qi?"
Jason nodded, appreciating the question. "Spirit Qi cultivation focuses on harnessing the laws you've learned within your inner sea—using energy to shape the world around you. Soul cultivation, on the other hand, is about strengthening the mind and will. It's the foundation of your essence. A strong soul allows you to endure tribulations, resist illusions, and comprehend laws at a deeper level. Without it, spirit Qi cultivation alone will eventually stagnate."
Adea's gaze grew thoughtful. "So, you're saying that while our Dantian and inner seas fuel our power, our souls act as the anchor for it all?"
Jason smiled faintly. "Exactly. All must grow in harmony. Strengthening the soul is not about raw power—it's about clarity, resilience, and the ability to withstand the weight of greater truths."
Nea crossed her arms, her usual skepticism apparent. "And you're going to leave us here to go do this soul cultivation thing? What makes it so special that you can't stay and guide us?"
Jason turned his gaze to her, his tone firm but not unkind. "Soul cultivation requires isolation. It's not like spirit Qi cultivation, where you draw from your surroundings and refine energy. It's an inward journey—one where distractions can break your focus and set you back."
Ramla touched Nea's arm gently. "He's doing this to help us, Nea. If his soul grows stronger, he'll be able to guide us better and protect us from dangers."
Jason nodded in agreement. "This isn't just for me—it's for all of us. A stronger soul means I can delve deeper into the laws I've inherited and find solutions to challenges we might face in the future."
Adea smirked lightly. "Sounds like you're preparing for war or something."
Jason chuckled. "Not war, Adea. Just preparation for the unknown. Cultivation is a journey, and the stronger we are, the more opportunities and challenges we'll encounter. It's better to be ready."
Nea sighed, her arms dropping to her sides. "Fine, fine. Just don't take forever. We're not exactly patient, you know."
Jason smirked, his eyes softening. "I'll return as soon as I can. In the meantime, keep practicing what I've taught you. If you encounter difficulties, trust your instincts and meditate. Answers often come when you least expect them."
With those parting words, Jason turned and walked toward the secluded chamber where he would begin his soul cultivation. As the doors closed behind him, the sisters were left to reflect on his words and their own paths, knowing that their journey was just beginning.
Jason sat cross-legged in the center of the main chamber of the Leviathan Palace, his breathing steady as he began to focus inward. The chamber was grand, Its walls adorned with intricate carvings of the Leviathan's exploits and adorned with faintly glowing runes that pulsed with an ancient energy. The air was thick with a calm yet potent aura, perfect for soul cultivation.
He closed his eyes, allowing his senses to retreat from the external world and dive into the depths of his soul sea. His inner consciousness illuminated a crescent bloom floating serenely above calm, rippling waters—the representation of his current soul realm. The crescent bloom was stable but incomplete, its energy restrained compared to what it could become in the next realm.
Jason directed his will to the crescent bloom, focusing on the intricate threads of energy that made up its foundation. To ascend to the half bloom soul realm, he needed to strengthen and expand these threads, weaving them into a more complex and robust structure.
The process was meticulous. He began by drawing upon the rich ambient energy in the chamber, funneling it into his soul sea. The energy swirled around the crescent bloom, saturating it with power. Jason guided this influx with precision, ensuring the balance was maintained to avoid destabilizing his progress.
As the crescent bloom absorbed the energy, its shape began to shift. Petal-like structures started to extend, glowing faintly as they formed. Each petal represented a facet of his soul's potential, and each required careful attention to solidify.
The effort was taxing. Beads of sweat formed on Jason's brow as he maintained unwavering focus. The threads of his soul stretched and intertwined, resisting the changes at first but gradually yielding to his determined will. His breathing slowed further, his body entering a state of profound stillness while his mind worked tirelessly.
Hours turned into days. Jason lost all sense of time as his consciousness remained anchored in his soul sea. The crescent bloom continued to evolve, its petals growing fuller and radiating a gentle luminescence. He felt the shift deep within his being—a growing strength and clarity that signified the nearing completion of the half bloom soul realm.
Just as the transformation was on the cusp of completion, Jason's mind began to stir with unbidden memories. Images and sensations from his past life started to surface, faint and fragmented at first but growing more vivid with each passing moment. Despite the distractions, he maintained his focus, determined to reach the half bloom soul realm before addressing the echoes of his past.
The crescent bloom pulsed with newfound vigor, its petals fully unfurled. Jason exhaled slowly, feeling the profound shift within him. His soul had ascended to the half bloom soul realm, its strength and resilience vastly enhanced. Yet, as his consciousness lingered in his soul sea, the dreams of his past life beckoned, waiting to be confronted.
A long, long time ago…
The centuries had passed like fleeting dreams, yet the memory of their first meeting in the forest remained vivid in Jonathan Marigold's mind. Now, as he watched his disciple—her blonde hair catching the golden rays of sunlight, her green eyes steady and focused—he couldn't help but reflect on how far they had come.
Her movements were flawless, each step of her blade dance an intricate weave of grace and power. The clearing they trained in had become a second home over the years, a sanctuary where she had grown into a formidable warrior.
She finished her routine, the soft rustle of her cloak settling as she sheathed her blades. Turning, she caught him watching her and raised an eyebrow.
"Have I done something wrong, Master?" she asked, her voice calm, her tone as unreadable as ever.
Jonathan shook his head, a faint smile gracing his lips. "No, only marveling at how much you've grown. Your progress is remarkable."
"Your teaching has much to do with that," she replied, inclining her head slightly in deference.
He studied her, the striking similarity of their green eyes meeting. Among elves, such features were common, but it was the depth in her gaze that often struck him. It carried a story he had never been able to uncover.
"You've changed," he said softly, his words laced with a mix of pride and sadness. "Yet some things remain the same. You still keep your name a secret from me."
She hesitated, her expression faltering for a brief moment before she composed herself. "A name carries little meaning," she said, her voice quieter now. "Actions speak louder."
Jonathan stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "Perhaps. But to me, it symbolizes trust. After two hundred years, I wonder if I've earned that from you."
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for the first time in a long while, a flicker of vulnerability crossed her face. She turned away, her shoulders tense.
"It's not about you," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "It's about what the name represents. Who I used to be."
Silence hung between them, broken only by the gentle rustling of the leaves in the breeze. Then, as if sensing his patience, she turned back to face him.
Her green eyes softened, and for the first time in two centuries, she smiled—a rare, genuine smile that made the world seem brighter.
"Thank you," she said, the words simple but carrying the weight of countless unspoken emotions. "For everything."
Jonathan stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest. That smile, so radiant and sincere, was more than he had ever dared to hope for.
And though she still didn't give him her name, that moment felt like a victory, a bridge between their hearts built over years of silent understanding.