Meanwhile - Across Thornhaven City
While Crimson Rose celebrated, the aftermath of Thunder Martial Hall's humiliation spread through digital networks like wildfire.
Streaming Platform - Moyu's Channel
The young anchor's viewer count had exploded. Her live broadcast of the challenge had gone viral, accumulating millions of views within hours.
Comments flooded in:
"Who IS that golden-eyed guy?!"
"Three seconds. THREE SECONDS. That was the fastest fight I've ever seen."
"Liam Glade was supposed to be a prodigy! He got destroyed like he was nothing!"
"Those eyes though... they're so unusual. Bloodline trait? Cultivation effect?"
"I've watched this ten times and I still can't fully track that palm strike."
"Thunder Martial Hall is trending for all the wrong reasons lmao"
Moyu herself was reading comments on stream, her excitement palpable. "I know, right?! I couldn't believe what I was seeing! That mysterious representative—Vaelor Draeth, according to official records—just casually destroyed Thunder's champion!"
She pulled up freeze-frames of Vaelor walking toward the platform, the moment of impact, Liam's unconscious body against the wall.
"Look at his posture. Look at that casual confidence. And those golden eyes are absolutely mesmerizing. My comment section is going crazy trying to figure out who he is!"
Kaelith Frostborn's Apartment
The Ice Empress had returned from an Abyssal Rift expedition with her usual team—several high-ranking students from the academy. She'd been reviewing combat recordings, analyzing her performance for optimization.
Then her communication device buzzed with multiple notifications. Social media alerts. News feeds. Message from classmates.
Curious, she opened the trending topics and found footage from Thunder Martial Hall.
Her ice-blue eyes widened as she watched the three-second fight.
"That's..." She paused the video, zooming in on Vaelor's face. "That's, what the heck is he doing in a local tournament."
She watched the palm strike frame by frame, her regressor knowledge allowing her to perceive details normal viewers missed.
His Intent synchronization during that strike was perfect. Multiple Intents layered seamlessly. And he was clearly holding back—that wasn't even fifty percent of the power he used against me in the Rift.
He's already advancing this quickly? It's been less than a month since our battle!
Kaelith set down her coffee cup with deliberate care, her expression hardening into cold determination.
"So he's making a name for himself in local martial circles. Drawing attention. Revealing capabilities."
She pulled up her communication device and began typing a message:
To: Vaelor Draeth
Subject: Interesting Performance
Your demonstration at Thunder Martial Hall was... adequate. Though I notice you're still concealing your real capabilities. We should discuss coordination for the upcoming academy entrance evaluation. Three-person teams required.
Don't disappoint me by getting complacent after beating local trash.
- Kaelith
She sent it, then returned to watching the video. What are you playing at, Vaelor? Joining a guild, making public displays, drawing attention to yourself...
Either you have a plan, or you're being reckless. Knowing you, probably both.
Rydor Family Manor - Private Training Facility
The enormous training room showed signs of intensive use. Deep gouges scarred the reinforced walls. The floor was torn up in multiple places. Scorch marks covered various surfaces.
Thalen Rydor stood in the center, sweat dripping from his defined physique. His silver-white hair was tied back, his ice-blue eyes cold and focused.
A butler entered quietly, bowing respectfully. "Young Master, there's been a development at Thunder Martial Hall. A relatively unknown warrior defeated their champion in seconds. The footage is trending across all platforms."
"Thunder Martial Hall?" Thalen Rydor didn't pause his training routine, moving through complex forms with inhuman precision. "That third-rate establishment? Why would I care about their internal politics?"
"The victor is reportedly a seventeen-year-old named Vaelor Draeth. LV14. He's being called a prodigy—"
"Prodigy?" Thalen Rydor finally stopped, turning to face the butler. His expression held aristocratic disdain. "The fifth-ranked genius? There's no point paying attention to such things."
He returned to his training, his voice cold with absolute confidence. "Among my peers, no matter who they are, they're only worthy of seeing my back. The rankings are irrelevant. I am supreme."
The butler bowed again and withdrew, leaving the young master to his training.
Vaelor Draeth, Thalen thought dismissively as he resumed his forms. Another name that will be forgotten once I demonstrate true superiority at the academy.
Suburban Training Ground - Outside City Limits
Fin Halstar sat on a large boulder, reviewing footage on his tablet with genuine interest. Around him, the corpses of three enormous Tier 3 Ogre Chieftains slowly dissolved into data streams—he'd been solo farming high-level monsters while watching trending videos.
"Oh?" His usually sleepy expression brightened with curiosity. "Vaelor Draeth... that's quite the efficient combat style."
He watched the three-second fight multiple times, analyzing technique, power output, Intent usage.
"That palm strike contained at least four synchronized Intents. The efficiency is remarkable. No wasted motion. Perfect spiritual control."
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Three more Ogre Chieftains emerged from a nearby cave, massive axes raised, bellowing challenges.
Fin Halstar didn't even look at them. He raised his hand casually, fingers forming sword mudra.
"Swish, swish, swish!"
Six black iron swords materialized from thin air, flying with precision that suggested complete mastery. The sword lights crisscrossed through the charging monsters, cutting through them like heated knives through butter.
The three Chieftains collapsed simultaneously, their HP bars emptying instantly.
"I wonder," Fin Halstar mused, still watching the tablet, "how many of my swords he could actually withstand. That would be an interesting test."
His eyes—usually half-closed and sleepy—opened fully for a moment, revealing genuine anticipation.
"The academy mid-term evaluation should be entertaining this year. I'm really looking forward to it."
Baihe Group - Underground Laboratory
Deep beneath the corporate headquarters, in a basement room lined with grotesque equipment and occult symbols, Varnis Coldharrow lay in a bath of emerald-green liquid.
Beside him floated the drained husk of what had once been a beautiful woman—now reduced to a desiccated corpse with a satisfied smile frozen on her dead face.
Green tendrils emerged from Varnis Coldharrow arms, waving like sentient vines. They pierced into the medicinal bath, drinking greedily. One tendril remained embedded in the corpse, extracting the last traces of life energy.
"Power," Varnis Coldharrow whispered, his handsome face now pale as paper, dark veins visible beneath his skin. "I feel the power surging through my body. More. I need more."
His appearance had changed dramatically since the awakening ceremony just weeks ago. His features, while still technically attractive, now carried something fundamentally wrong. His eyes held an inhuman gleam. His smile was too wide, too hungry.
"No one can be my opponent in this year's academy evaluation," he laughed, his voice carrying harmonics that shouldn't exist in human vocal cords. "Not those arrogant prodigies. Not the guild-backed warriors. NONE OF THEM!"
Gurgle.
As his laughter escalated, the flesh at the back of his head turned over with wet, organic sounds. A purple single eye emerged, squirming out through splitting skin.
The eye blinked independently, swiveling to track movements Varnis's normal eyes couldn't see. Its pupil was vertical like a reptile's, and something moved beneath the surface—shadow-shapes that suggested depth impossible for a physical organ.
"The Abyss provides," Varnis whispered, reaching back to caress the purple eye with disturbing tenderness. "Everything I need. Everything I deserve."
"Those academy dogs think they're special? Think their talents matter? I'll show them what real power looks like. I'll show them what happens when you embrace the true path!"
The purple eye focused on a tablet displaying footage from Thunder Martial Hall—the mysterious golden-eyed warrior who'd gone viral.
"Vaelor Draeth," He read the name, his normal eyes and the purple eye both fixating on the image. "Interesting. Very interesting."
He smiled—an expression that would have terrified anyone who witnessed it.
"I'll save you for last. Break you slowly. Let you watch as I devour everyone you care about. Let you understand the futility of resistance against the Abyss."
The purple eye pulsed with agreement, secreting a dark fluid that hissed where it contacted the medicinal bath.
Draeth Mansion - Late Night
The clone returned home to find the mansion mostly dark, his family already asleep. He moved quietly through the halls, reviewing the day's events.
Successful demonstration. Guild bonds strengthened. Viral fame spreading—that's both useful and potentially problematic.
The main body continues grinding. Forty-eight subjective years now. The dedication is admirable, if slightly insane.
Through their consciousness link, the main body sent back vague acknowledgment mixed with profound focus. The cultivation continued, relentless and patient.
The clone settled into meditation, processing information, maintaining combat readiness, staying connected to his distant other self.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges. The viral fame meant increased attention—both wanted and unwanted. Academy would start soon. The guild expedition next week would provide excellent experience farming opportunities.
Everything proceeds according to plan, both bodies thought in synchronization. Three years until apocalypse. I already have the power to deal with that. As for the clan i would have more than enough time if I maintain this pace.
The cosmos awaits.
TO BE CONTINUED...
[Main Body: 2,891st stage, 48+ subjective years, continuing physique cultivation] (i didnt calculate the time dilation, so this might be wrong.)
[Clone: Viral fame established, guild bonds strengthened, rivals taking notice]
[Next: Academy arc beginning, more social dynamics, high-tier dungeon expedition]