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Capítulo 35: Cultivation

When he saw the boy, the feeling of wanting to protect something arose deep inside the old man. What did he want?

Did they want to protect the innocence of that young soul?

No. He would no longer be able to do that. Since that sense of innocence was far gone at this point.

Then what could he do?

The old man wanted one thing.

'To clear the path.'

This young was a particular one. A kid who had suffered more than many adults in this world. At the age of 14, he had experienced far more cruel things than many others.

He had learned to take a life.

Those innocent hands learned how to take a life at such an age.

He had learned how to be alone and how to not rely on anyone. And as he was about to regain his sense of belonging, that was also taken away from him.

The old man pondered. When such a thing happened, what would become of the boy? The answer was evident in the boy's demeanor and the dark shadow that seemed to loom over him. The boy, like any other person, would do one thing to escape the wound—he would try to look somewhere else. He would use another goal to patch the wound that had been created.

He did it when his family abandoned him, too. He patched the pain of abandonment by setting a fragile goal of clearing his name, and he would do the same again. The old man did not like that. It was a temporary fix, one that did not address the root of the pain.

Thus, he guided him. But just as he was about to guide the boy, he suddenly saw something. A slightly eerie energy inside the boy. An eerie energy that covered the boy's mana core and extended to his mind.

The old man's eyes widened in realization. There was a reason why the boy was always like this. Why he was blocked, and why his thoughts were always a mess. It was because of that dark energy. The old man also realized that if the energy did not go away, the boy would never be able to cultivate his energy properly. That dark force would always become a burden to him.

Thus, the old man wanted to make sure that the boy would be freed from this energy. But as he tried to intervene with the energy by using his own, he was not able to do such a thing.

The energy, or the spell that was engraved on the boy, was a peculiar one.

'As if it is directly linked to the mind of the target.'

The old man then realized if there was such a thing, only one solution would remain.

'That kid….He needs to overcome this on his own.'

The mental blocks. They were not solely because of the fact that the kid had put that on himself. No, it was because of an external influence.

But what could be the reason?

'For which reason such a strong spell was put on this kid. And by who?'

And then the old man remembered how the kid told his story.

'Was it them? What an evil bunch…..'

The old man's mind raced back to the boy's recounting of his past, the pain and betrayal etched in his words. He remembered the specifics—the abandonment by his family, the unfair accusations, and the malicious framing.

'This framing is far more complex and compounded than I initially thought. It runs deeper than anything I have encountered before.'

He realized the spell wasn't just a random curse but a calculated move, likely designed to cripple the boy's potential and trap him in a cycle of self-doubt and helplessness.

Whoever had done this wanted to ensure that the boy would never rise, that he would always be shackled by his own mind.

The old man's eyes narrowed as he considered the boy's tormentors. 'They must have feared the things that he knew.'

And then he sighed.

'To think that that place is still the same. Filled with betrayal and schemes.'

He particularly remembered a certain day.

**********

I returned to the place where Master had instructed me to meditate. As I entered the clearing, I saw him sitting in the same spot, his eyes closed in deep meditation. I quietly approached and sat down across from him, taking the lotus position.

The mental barriers that had once hindered me were now gone, replaced by a sense of clarity and focus.

Master opened his eyes and watched me for a moment before speaking. "It seems you finally got rid of the thing inside your head," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

I stopped my training and looked at him, a sense of accomplishment filling me. "Yes, Master. The walls are gone, and the river flows freely now."

Master nodded approvingly. "Good. If you can now make the river flow freely in your mind, that means you have understood the basics of the meditation itself. It is about imagination and the mind."

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze intense. "Never forget, disciple, the mind is what commands the mana that you accumulate. Your imagination shapes your perception of energy. If your mind is clouded by doubt and fear, your mana will be hindered. But if your mind is clear and focused, your mana will flow effortlessly."

I nodded, absorbing his words. "So, it's not just about the physical training. It's about mental discipline as well."

"Exactly," Master affirmed. "The physical and mental aspects of your training are deeply intertwined. To command mana effectively, you must master both your body and your mind. Meditation is the key to achieving this balance."

He stood up, motioning for me to follow. "Come, we will now begin the next phase of your training. You have cleared the first hurdle, but many more lie ahead."

I rose to my feet, my body still sore from the recent battle but filled with a renewed sense of purpose. As we walked, Master continued to speak.

"Meditation will help you understand the flow of energy within your body. It will teach you to control your breathing, calm your mind, and direct your thoughts. This control is essential for manipulating mana and achieving higher levels of cultivation."

We reached a quiet, secluded area in the forest, where the air was thick with the scent of pine and the sound of rustling leaves. Master turned to me, his expression serious.

"Sit and close your eyes. Focus on your breathing and visualize the river of energy flowing through you. This time, imagine drawing mana from the surroundings into your body. Feel it merge with your own energy and circulate through your meridians."

I did as he instructed, sitting down and closing my eyes. I took deep, steady breaths, focusing on the sensation of air entering and leaving my lungs. I visualized the river of energy within me, now flowing more freely than ever before. With each breath, I imagined drawing mana from the air around me, feeling it merge with my own energy and circulate through my body.

But just like before, I still did not feel anything. As if the mana around me was not even there.

"Do not falter. Keep your focus straight."

I nodded my head, determined to continue focusing. I kept my breathing steady and my mind clear and tried to feel the mana around me. Yet, despite my efforts, I still couldn't sense it.

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my back. Master's touch was firm and grounding. "Do not lose your focus," he warned. "The Mana Accumulation method that you are going to learn starts like this. I will show you how to circulate your mana."

His voice was calm and reassuring. "I am going to inject a bit of my mana into your core. Pay close attention to how it moves through your body and circulates through your meridians."

I nodded again, my anticipation growing. I focused on the sensation of his hand on my back, waiting for the moment he would begin.

Then, I felt it. A warm, tingling sensation spread from the point where his hand touched my back. The warmth flowed into my body, moving steadily towards my core. As it entered my core, I felt a strange, almost surreal sensation. It was as if a new world was overlapping with the one I had always known, and an intangible matter was pressing against my skin.

The mana.

I could now sense it. The warmth spread through my core and then began to circulate through my meridians, guided by Master's steady hand.

I focused intently on the path it took, feeling the flow of energy with a clarity I had never experienced before.

"Good," Master's voice came, filled with approval. "This is the sensation you must learn to recognize and control. Feel how the mana merges with your own energy, becoming one with it."

I focused on the merging energies, feeling the mana blend seamlessly with my own internal energy.

The sensation was incredible, unlike anything I had ever felt. It was as if my entire being was coming alive with a newfound vitality.

But as I was drawing mana into my core, suddenly, in my mind, something appeared.

It was a star.

And that star blinded my light.

Following that, suddenly, just like what happened on the battlefield today, the dams were opened wide.

But this time, it was the river of memories that flowed down. 

'Bruce.'

It was my name from Earth.

-----------------------

You can check my discord if you want. The link is in the description.

I am open to any criticism; you can comment on things that you would like to see in the story. 

And if you liked my story, please give me a power stone. It helps me a lot. 


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Capítulo 36: Bruce

Bruce.

The moment that name appeared in my head, so did the memories. It was like a floodgate had opened, and all the details of my life rushed back with startling clarity.

I was Bruce, a high-schooler who loved to read web novels. The eldest child in my family, with two sisters who never ceased to test my patience and resilience.

The younger one, Maria, was still sweet and innocent, always looking up at me with those big, curious eyes.

But the older one, Evelyn, well, she had transformed into a sarcastic, biting version of herself ever since she hit fourteen. I missed the days when she was less of a pain and more of a companion.

Memories of late-night reading sessions flooded back—lying in bed with my phone, devouring chapter after chapter of my favorite web novels.

Those stories were my escape, my sanctuary from the mundane routine of school and family obligations. I could still feel the thrill of reading a particularly intense scene, the way it made my heart race and my mind buzz with excitement.

I remembered the mornings, waking up groggy because I'd stayed up too late reading. The tired, knowing look from my mom as she handed me breakfast, shaking her head at my bleary eyes. The hurried walks to school, earbuds in, listening to the latest episode of my favorite web novel podcast.

Being the eldest came with its own set of challenges and responsibilities. I was expected to set an example and be responsible.

But sometimes, I just wanted to escape into my own world, to forget about the expectations and just be Bruce—the guy who loved stories, who got lost in fictional worlds, and who found solace in the pages of a web novel.

I remembered a certain moment with the elder one.

"Evelyn," I muttered, the memory of her smug face still fresh in my mind. She always knew how to get under my skin. "You think you're so clever, don't you?"

"What was that, dearest brother? Did you say something?"

"Nothing. Just thinking."

"About what?"

"About how things used to be," I said, more to myself than to her. "Before you turned into Miss Sarcasm."

Evelyn's smirk faded slightly, replaced by a look of mild surprise. "I haven't changed that much," she said, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"Yeah, you have," I replied, not unkindly. "But maybe it's not all bad. Keeps things interesting, I guess."

She didn't respond immediately; she just stared at me for a moment before turning back to her phone. I could tell she was thinking, maybe even reflecting on what I had said.

It was one of the rare moments when we talked for an hour at home, as the atmosphere was not always great.

And then, I remembered another memory. 

A memory with Maria, the smallest and cutest one in our family.

"Brother, look! I made a drawing of our family!"

I glanced at the picture she held up, a colorful, childlike depiction of our family. There we were, stick figures with big smiles, holding hands. It was simple, but it tugged at something deep inside me. Despite the frustrations and the sarcasm, this was my family. These were the people who mattered most.

"That's great, Maria," I said, smiling at her. "You did a wonderful job."

"Ehehehe..."

Seeing the innocent smile on her face, I could not help but smile. It was a smile that I loved to protect.

At that moment, a voice came from the side, sharp and commanding. It was the voice of a grumpy woman, our mother.

"Maria, stop wasting time and get back to your studies. You still need to finish your daily homework," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Maria's face fell, and she looked like she wanted to protest. But I saw her tremble slightly, knowing that resistance was futile. She reluctantly put down her drawing and shuffled off to her room, casting one last forlorn look at me.

Before I could say anything to comfort her, my mother's attention shifted to me. "Bruce, your fencing teacher is here. Don't make him wait."

I sighed inwardly. There was no escape from the endless cycle of expectations and responsibilities.

I knew what was expected of me—to be the best, to never falter. And fencing was just another part of that.

"Yes, Mom," I replied, my voice steady. I couldn't let her see any hesitation or reluctance.

Because I have already learned what is going to happen when I do that, I already knew the fact that the perfect son would never falter; the ones that would bear the brunt of the anger wouldn't be me.

Because they can not afford to lose an asset like me, the face of the family. 

As I got up from my seat, I glanced at Evelyn. She was still absorbed in her phone, pretending not to notice the exchange. But I knew she heard every word.

I already knew the reason why she was like this, why she always was on her phone.

The children who would be able to bear the pressure would give up.

They would both lose their motivation in life and their desire for the attention of their parents.

Evelyn wasn't always like this. She used to be quiet and obedient, always striving to meet the high expectations set by our parents. But there came a moment when she could no longer keep up. The pressure became too much, and she broke. She started acting carefree and nonchalant about everything, a mask to hide her pain. Yet, I knew how much she cried during those nights when she thought no one could hear her.

And now, she was like this—distant, sarcastic, and seemingly indifferent. It was truly heartbreaking to see her change so much, to see the light in her eyes dim.

With a heavy heart, I made my way to the front door, where my fencing instructor was waiting. Master Alfred.

There was no official title of "Master" for Alfred, but I liked to call him that. He had taught me many things, not just about fencing but about life and resilience. He was the reason I could still find the strength to endure.

"Ready, Bruce?" he asked, his voice as steady and unwavering as always.

"Yes, Master Alfred," I replied, feeling a sense of comfort in the routine, in the familiarity of his presence.

We moved to the practice area in the backyard, where the training equipment was already set up. Master Alfred began with the usual drills, his sharp eyes catching every mistake, every hesitation. But he also had a way of pushing me just enough to help me improve without breaking me.

"Bruce, you know what?" While we were training, Master Alfred suddenly asked.

"What is it, Master?" I responded, focusing on my stance.

"If you had lived in medieval times, you would have been one of the strongest warriors. Your skill with the sword is just that good."

Hearing this, I remembered a certain sensation. 

The sword in my hand had always seemed to become an extension of my body, as if it was a part of me. Whenever I held the weapon, it felt like I changed. It was as if I was born to wield it, as if, in another life, I might have been a knight or a warrior.

But then reality hit me. In the modern world, what meaning did the sword have? Even if I were the fencing world champion, it wouldn't change the fact that the world no longer values such skills. There was no place for swordsmen in a world dominated by technology and modern warfare.

Master Alfred seemed to sense my thoughts. "The world may have changed, Bruce, but the discipline, the focus, the strength you gain from fencing—those are timeless. They shape who you are, not just as a fencer, but as a person."

I nodded, trying to absorb his words. "I understand, Master. It just feels... I don't know, pointless sometimes."

"Nothing you do with dedication and passion is ever pointless," he said firmly. "You may not be fighting dragons or defending castles, but you're building something just as important—character, resilience."

"And Bruce, you may have already realized it by now. No matter how, no matter what happens. Never forget what is right, and never move away from the path of righteousness. Even if you don't want to do it, do the right thing. That is what makes the true warrior."

Suddenly, I returned to the real world, and with all the memories returning, I realized what happened.

'I am Bruce. A high schooler, a web novel addict, and the world fencing champion. That is who I am.'

Just as I remembered who I was within my core, I saw something.

A shining star.

And then I heard Master's voice.

"That is... peculiar. You have already formed your first star. Congratulations on becoming a 1-stage awakened. You are a proper awakened from now on."

I opened my eyes, feeling a profound sense of clarity and understanding. The memories of my past life, the lessons learned, and the experiences endured—all of it had converged into this moment, guiding me to this newfound power.

I was no longer just Lucavion. I was Bruce, too, at the same time.

-----------------------

You can check my discord if you want. The link is in the description.

I am open to any criticism; you can comment on things that you would like to see in the story. 

And if you liked my story, please give me a power stone. It helps me a lot. 


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