The cultivation chamber was silent, save for the soft hum of essence swirling in the air. The room, designed to amplify focus and isolate distractions, was dimly lit by the soft green glow of essence crystals embedded in the walls. The air was thick with energy, pulsating in rhythm with the steady breathing of the lone figure sitting in the center.
Denwen sat cross-legged, his body bare from the waist up, revealing a frame that had grown leaner yet stronger over the past weeks of relentless training. His eyes were closed, his hands resting on his knees, and in his palm lay a single Verdant Core Pendant, pulsing faintly in sync with his breath.
Around him, scattered essence cores sat cracked and dimmed, drained of their power. He had spent the last few days ensuring his body was saturated with essence, refining every last trace of energy within him in preparation for this moment.
A breakthrough was not something to be rushed.
If he failed, the consequences would be disastrous.
Denwen exhaled slowly, his breath steady and deep. He could feel the essence within his body, coiled like a tightly wound spring, waiting to be compressed, refined, and pushed beyond its current limits.
Mid Rank One.
He had long since reached the peak of Low Rank One. His mastery over essence channeling to external objects had been refined with the help of the Verdant Core Pendant, allowing him to strengthen weapons, extend his attacks, and even manipulate essence beyond his own body.
But that wasn't enough.
If he wanted to stand against real threats—monsters, disasters, even the unknown dangers lurking in the shadows—he needed more.
And so, with a final deep breath, Denwen began.
—
Denwen withdrew all the essence within his body, pulling it away from his limbs, his muscles, his very nerves.
Instantly, a numbing sensation spread through his body.
His fingers, his arms, his legs—everything began to feel disconnected, as if he were floating within his own skin. His heartbeat slowed, his breathing became shallow, and his awareness narrowed to a single point within him—
His core.
At the center of his being, where all his essence resided, a swirling light green mass of energy pulsed and churned. This was his foundation, his very source of power.
The process had begun.
Denwen focused, drawing every last trace of essence from his body into his core. The light green mist that had once flowed freely through his body now gathered into a dense, liquid-like sphere.
This was the most dangerous part.
The essence had to be compressed.
Denwen's mind sharpened, his will locking onto the swirling mass within him. He began applying pressure, forcing the energy to shrink, to compact, to refine itself beyond its previous limits.
His breath hitched.
The moment the compression began, pain flared through his body.
A deep, internal ache, like his very soul was being squeezed.
This was the true danger of breaking through. If he lost focus—**if he allowed the compression to falter even slightly—**his core would destabilize.
And if his core collapsed…
Denwen gritted his teeth.
Failure was not an option.
The essence within him shrank, its vibrant light green glow darkening ever so slightly.
Sweat dripped down Denwen's brow. His body remained completely numb, as if he were nothing but a husk. All his senses, all his awareness, were locked onto his core.
The swirling energy twisted and churned, resisting the compression.
Denwen pushed harder.
A sharp jolt of pain ran through him. His core shuddered, resisting the transformation.
For a brief moment, doubt threatened to creep into his mind.
What if he wasn't ready? What if his foundation wasn't strong enough?
No.
He crushed those thoughts immediately.
There was no turning back now.
He applied even more force.
The essence within him twisted violently, writhing as it condensed further, its color shifting from light green to a deeper shade—an emerald hue.
He was close.
His core trembled, the compression nearing completion.
Denwen's breath came in ragged gasps. Every fiber of his being screamed in protest.
Just a little more.
He clenched his fists, focusing all his willpower into the final push.
The core shrank further.
Emerald green.
Then—
BOOM.
A silent explosion erupted within him.
A wave of power surged outward, flooding his limbs, rushing back into his nerves, his muscles, his veins.
His body roared to life.
The numbness was instantly replaced by an overwhelming rush of energy.
Denwen gasped, his eyes snapping open. His skin tingled, his senses sharpened to an almost painful degree, and the once-dormant power within him now burned like an untamed fire.
He had done it.
Mid Rank One.
He exhaled, his breath slow and controlled, but his lips curled into a satisfied smile.
The path forward had just widened.
—-
Elsewhere…
The air inside the control room was thick with tension.
Dim screens flickered across the walls, displaying streams of data, maps, and incoming transmissions. The room was filled with officers in uniform, their faces grim, their eyes locked onto a single holographic projection hovering in the center of the room.
A video message from a certain spy. A final, desperate transmission from a fallen spy.
A woman with sharp features and piercing amber eyes leaned forward, her gaze locked onto the decrypted message. The contents scrolled rapidly before her, revealing words that made her chest tighten.
"Elric" she muttered his name softly as her fingers twitched.
"…So that's what they're doing."
A long silence followed. The officers around her exchanged wary glances. None dared to speak first.
Finally, the woman straightened, inhaling sharply before turning to the nearest operator.
"Send this directly to the Duke," she ordered, her voice unwavering. "This isn't something we can ignore."
The operator hesitated. "Ma'am… does that mean Elric didn't make it?"
The woman's jaw tightened.
"…No. He didn't. But he succeeded, and we won't waste this chance. This is the first time we have gotten something this critical before it escalated"
Another heavy silence.
She turned away, staring at the screen one last time.
Elric, the spy, had given everything—his life, his last breath—to deliver this warning.
And now, the weight of that truth rested in her hands. Her fingers clenched into fists.
"We move immediately."