Time flowed differently within the Spirit Realm.
Days, weeks, and even months often lost their meaning amidst different occurence, life-and-death battles, and the pursuit of greater strength. Those who remained in the Spirit Realm for long periods gradually stopped paying attention to the passing of time altogether, allowing their lives to revolve solely around training and survival.
The Human World, however, continued to move according to its own rhythm.
While Nicos and the others had been adapting to their new lives in the Spirit Realm, an entire month had quietly passed in the Human World.
Although thirty days was not considered particularly long for powerful Spirit Warriors, the events that unfolded during that single month were enough to send waves across the entire world.
The most shocking news naturally involved Aeneas.
As he had publicly promised, he successfully elevated Luke's cultivation from Tier 2 to Tier 3.
The announcement spread like wildfire across every empire, kingdom, noble household, and major organization. Countless people initially dismissed it as an exaggerated rumor, but after confirmation from multiple reliable sources, skepticism quickly transformed into disbelief.
No one understood how he had accomplished it.
Helping someone advance an entire realm in one go was far from impossible, but it certainly wasn't something that could be achieved casually.
Even the strongest experts would find such a feat extremely difficult.
It required an unimaginable amount of resources, perfect timing, and methods that most people had never even heard of.
Yet Aeneas had done exactly that.
Once again.
Just as he always seemed to do, he had accomplished something that defied conventional understanding.
Naturally, the world's attention shifted toward him.
Some people became curious.
Some became fearful.
Others became increasingly vigilant.
Aeneas had already earned a reputation as someone who excelled at turning seemingly ordinary situations into opportunities that benefited him. Every deal he made, every decision he took, and every favor he offered seemed to hide another objective beneath the surface.
No one liked dealing with a man whose true intentions remained impossible to predict.
His enemies feared him.
His allies remained cautious around him.
Even those who had never met him kept a close eye on his movements.
No one knew what he was planning next.
And that uncertainty made him even more dangerous.
...
At that very moment, the man in question was completely oblivious to the commotion he had caused in the Human World.
Inside one of his secluded safe houses in the Spirit Realm, Aeneas sat leisurely on a wooden chair beneath the shade of an ancient tree.
The residence itself was hidden deep within a quiet valley, isolated from the bustling cities and dangerous territories where countless adventurers fought daily for survival.
A gentle breeze carried the refreshing scent of nature through the courtyard.
Birds chirped peacefully from nearby branches.
The atmosphere was tranquil.
Completely opposite to the chaos his name was currently causing in the Human World.
Aeneas leaned comfortably against the back of his chair while holding a cup of steaming tea.
His eyes, however, weren't focused on the scenery.
Instead, they rested on a young man training several dozen meters away.
Luke.
Clang!
His sword cut through the air with remarkable precision.
Every slash was swift.
Every thrust was decisive.
His movements were neither flashy nor unnecessarily complicated.
Instead, they emphasized efficiency.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Sweat soaked his clothes.
His breathing gradually became heavier.
Yet his movements never slowed.
The moment one sequence ended, another immediately began.
His sword never rested.
Neither did he.
Aeneas silently observed him for several minutes.
A faint smile slowly appeared on his lips.
Ever since advancing to Tier 3, Luke had become even more dedicated to his training.
Many people who experienced such a tremendous breakthrough would inevitably become complacent.
Some would spend weeks celebrating.
Others would bask in the admiration of those around them.
After all, reaching Tier 3 at only twenty-one years old was already considered an extraordinary accomplishment.
Most young geniuses would proudly show off such an achievement.
Luke, however, did the exact opposite.
Instead of relaxing...
He trained harder.
Instead of becoming arrogant...
He became even more disciplined.
Every single day followed nearly the same routine.
Training.
Sword practice.
Physical conditioning.
Meditation.
Then everything repeated again.
His determination had gradually earned Aeneas' approval.
Not because Luke possessed extraordinary talent.
But because he understood his own shortcomings.
Several days earlier, Aeneas had casually asked him a simple question.
"Why do you push yourself this hard?"
Luke hadn't even stopped swinging his sword before replying.
"Because I don't have natural talent."
His answer had been immediate.
Without hesitation.
Without self-pity.
"So I'll compensate with hard work."
Those simple words had remained in Aeneas' mind ever since.
Not everyone who lacked talent possessed the courage to admit it.
Even fewer were willing to dedicate their entire lives to overcoming it.
Luke was one of those rare individuals.
He clearly understood where he stood.
Rather than envying geniuses...
He simply worked harder than them.
Aeneas took another sip of tea as a satisfied look appeared in his eyes.
'He'll be perfectly suited for my next plan.'
Of course, he didn't voice those thoughts aloud.
There was still plenty of time before that plan could begin.
For now...
Luke simply needed to continue growing.
"Luke."
Aeneas' calm voice broke the silence.
The young swordsman's movements immediately stopped.
He lowered his sword and turned respectfully toward Aeneas.
"Yes?"
"Don't overtrain yourself."
Luke blinked in surprise.
Aeneas chuckled softly.
"I never thought I'd be the one reminding someone to rest."
He shook his head with an amused smile.
"Training is important."
"So is recovery."
"If you continuously push your body beyond its limits without allowing it to recover properly, your progress will eventually slow."
Luke nodded silently.
"In the next few days," Aeneas continued, "we'll be leaving this place."
His expression gradually became serious.
"We're heading into the wilderness."
Luke's eyes lit up slightly.
"Good."
Aeneas noticed the subtle change in his expression and couldn't help smiling inwardly.
As expected.
The boy wasn't afraid.
He was looking forward to it.
"We'll conduct actual combat training."
"The wilderness will provide opponents that are far more dangerous than simple practice."
"You'll experience genuine life-and-death battles."
Luke's grip around his sword tightened slightly.
His heart couldn't help but become excited.
The training under Aeneas had already taught him many things.
But actual combat...
That was where true growth happened.
Aeneas continued.
"There's something else."
Luke listened attentively.
"I want you to establish your own Adventurer Team."
The statement surprised him.
"My own team?"
Aeneas nodded.
"Eventually."
"You won't always be training under me."
"There are many hidden dimensions, ancient ruins, and unexplored regions throughout the Spirit Realm."
"Many of those places require official Adventurer Teams before entry is permitted."
"Those opportunities will become important for your future growth."
He calmly placed his teacup onto the table.
"I can't build those connections for you."
"You'll have to earn them yourself."
Luke lowered his head respectfully.
"I understand."
Although he didn't fully grasp Aeneas' intentions, he trusted his judgment.
If Aeneas believed it was necessary...
Then it must be.
Without another word, Luke returned to his training.
His sword danced once more beneath the morning sun.
Watching the young man resume his practice almost immediately, Aeneas sighed dramatically.
"What a completely soulless human being..."
He rubbed his forehead.
"All you ever think about is training and fighting."
Luke either failed to hear the complaint...
Or deliberately ignored it.
His sword continued slicing through the air with unwavering focus.
Aeneas could only shake his head helplessly before picking up his tea once more.
Perhaps...
Finding companions for Luke really was becoming a necessity.
Someone needed to teach the boy that life contained more than Training.
...
Meanwhile...
Far away in the Human World...
Within the Cyrene Empire...
The magnificent capital city of Gaza continued to flourish as one of humanity's greatest strongholds.
At the heart of the city stood the majestic Kandake Palace.
A symbol of authority.
Power.
And history.
Among the palace's numerous districts, the western region housed the residences of the royal family.
Unlike many royal households that emphasized blood purity and strict hierarchy, the Kandake Royal Family possessed a different philosophy.
Every prince.
Every princess.
Every royal descendant.
Every close relative.
They all resided within the same district.
Each family occupied its own residence while remaining part of the larger royal household.
This arrangement reflected the Kandake Family's long-standing values.
Unity.
Responsibility.
Family.
Although each residence appeared modest compared to the palace's grand halls, their elegance remained unmistakable.
Beautiful flowerbeds decorated every entrance.
Bright emerald lawns stretched neatly across the courtyards.
Ancient ornamental trees provided cool shade.
Several carefully maintained herb gardens filled the air with rich medicinal fragrances that naturally relaxed both body and mind.
Everything was meticulously maintained.
Nothing appeared excessive.
Nothing felt lacking.
Luxury blended perfectly with warmth, making each residence feel less like a royal estate and more like a true home.
Among those residences stood the home of Princess Layla's family.
Inside, numerous maids and attendants carried out their duties with remarkable efficiency.
Some cleaned corridors.
Others tended to the gardens.
Several prepared meals.
Each person understood their responsibilities.
The household operated with the precision of a well-oiled machine.
Within her private training chamber, Layla sat quietly upon a meditation cushion.
Her breathing remained slow and steady.
Spirit Essence gently circulated throughout her body as she immersed herself in meditation.
Her expression remained peaceful.
Completely detached from the outside world.
Knock.
Knock.
A soft knock disturbed the silence.
"Younger Princess Layla?"
A gentle feminine voice sounded from outside.
"Are you inside?"
Layla slowly opened her beautiful eyes.
The flowing Spirit Essence surrounding her gradually dispersed.
"Come in."
The door opened gently.
A middle-aged maid stepped inside before bowing respectfully.
The moment her eyes met Layla's, admiration naturally appeared upon her face.
Despite being recognized across the Human World as one of the greatest geniuses of her generation, Layla had never allowed fame or talent to change her character.
She treated every servant with respect.
She never abused her status.
She remained humble despite possessing gifts that countless people envied.
It was precisely because of that kindness that the servants respected her from the bottom of their hearts rather than merely out of obligation.
"What is it, Aunt Sally?" Layla asked with a gentle smile.
Sally smiled warmly.
"His Highness asked me to inform you that he would like to see you in the living room."
"He said he has something important to discuss with you."
Layla nodded.
"I understand."
"Please tell Father I'll be there shortly."
Sally bowed once again.
"Very well, Younger Princess."
After she left, Layla stood gracefully from her meditation cushion.
She adjusted her training attire before quietly making her way toward the living room.
Several minutes later...
Layla stepped into the spacious reception hall.
The room reflected refined elegance rather than extravagant luxury.
Beautiful paintings decorated the walls.
Tastefully crafted furniture filled the room without making it appear crowded.
Every ornament seemed carefully selected to create a welcoming atmosphere instead of turning the room into a display of wealth.
Sitting quietly upon one of the sofas was a middle-aged man.
Even while seated, his powerful physique remained obvious.
His back was perfectly straight.
His posture reflected decades of discipline.
Short golden hair framed a stern face that carried traces of countless battles.
His sharp honey-colored eyes possessed the calm confidence of a seasoned veteran who had experienced both victory and hardship.
Dressed in a royal-blue shirt with neatly rolled sleeves and black trousers, Prince Blour appeared less like royalty and more like an experienced commander reviewing military reports.
A document rested calmly within his hands.
His complete attention remained focused upon its contents.
Even after hearing approaching footsteps, he didn't immediately look up.
"Father."
Layla stopped respectfully before him.
"You asked to see me."
Only then did Prince Blour lower the document onto the table before raising his gaze toward his daughter.
His eyes quietly examined her.
She was still wearing her training clothes.
A faint layer of perspiration remained upon her forehead, showing that she had come directly from training rather than taking time to change.
For several moments...
Neither father nor daughter spoke.
Throughout the entire Cyrene Empire, everyone knew Prince Blour as a man of few words.
He rarely expressed his thoughts through lengthy speeches.
Instead, he preferred allowing his actions to speak for him.
And now...
His silent gaze alone was enough to tell Layla that whatever he intended to discuss with her has to do with the upcoming expedition.