"Master…"
Aeron Vale turned toward the silver-browed monk standing beside him.
Though their formal tutelage had lasted only two months, Elder Morrow—once the Sanctum's sole Grandmaster—had extended rare kindness and guidance to Aeron when no one else dared to look past his youth.
And more importantly, it was Elder Morrow who had granted Aeron entry into the Sutra Vault, changing the course of his destiny.
Now, as Aeron stood at the peak of power, it was time to repay that kindness.
"The Great Grandmaster realm is built upon the soul," Aeron said calmly, "and the path is one that cannot be forced. But…"
He glanced at his former teacher.
"Years ago, I studied a scripture within the Vault—a martial path derived from the Iron Tendon Manual. I refined it into something new. Something that can help you."
That path was the Blood-Forging Body and Spirit Technique, a martial art that did more than strengthen the body.
It refined the soul.
Perfecting this technique could raise a Grandmaster's odds of reaching the mythical Great Grandmaster realm from near-zero to as high as twenty to thirty percent.
---
Morrow blinked in quiet disbelief.
"Disciple," he said softly, "the Great Grandmaster realm is not one that can be taught. It comes only by fate… by awakening."
He wasn't being humble. He was echoing the core truth of their world.
Not even the greatest Grandmasters of the past could forge another in their image.
The founder of the Sanctum, Elandar, had trained over a hundred disciples.
Not one had succeeded him.
---
Aeron only smiled.
"Then listen."
And with that, he began to share the full technique.
The elders present—Abbott Ravel, Master Alric, and the rest of the Inner Circle—stood silently as Aeron calmly and completely explained the structure and stages of the technique.
At first, Morrow's expression remained composed.
But as Aeron continued, the old monk's brow began to furrow.
Then his breath quickened.
Then his eyes widened.
What… is this?
He had read every spiritual martial scripture ever uncovered by the Sanctum.
He had memorized every word left by the founder.
And yet what Aeron described was something entirely new—a spiritual technique usable even by Innate cultivators, something that would have been thought impossible.
Where other spiritual arts required already awakened psychic force, this one forged it.
From scratch.
---
By the time Aeron finished, the room was silent.
Morrow didn't speak. He couldn't.
His mouth had gone dry.
The others hadn't fully grasped the method's value—but he had.
He knew what this meant.
"This technique alone could reshape the future of the entire martial world," he thought, heart thundering.
If word of it got out, the other great sects, or even the Dalenhart Empire itself, might move to steal or destroy it.
That's how precious it was.
---
After a long pause, Aeron gave a small nod.
"That's all. You may return."
The elders slowly, reverently, bowed and took their leave.
Elder Morrow was the last to exit, still visibly shaken, whispering thanks under his breath.
---
Once alone again, Aeron returned to the third floor of the Sutra Vault.
He reached for a dusty volume—The Wisdom of Demon Conquest.
One of the oldest books in the Sanctum, it contained the soul arts of the monastery's founder.
Back when Aeron was still Innate, he hadn't dared approach these.
But now?
He was a Great Grandmaster—and beyond.
---
Half a month passed.
For more than ten days, Aeron immersed himself in the ancient tome.
Then, at last—
> [Your comprehension is extraordinary. You have studied the soul scripture 'Wisdom of Demon Conquest' and awakened the spiritual miracle: 'Heaven-Turning Mindstrike.']
Aeron's breath caught.
Within the center of his brow—his mind palace—a spiritual matrix pulsed with power.
Invisible patterns were carved into the walls of his soul.
"Heaven-Turning Mindstrike."
It wasn't just a technique—it was a field of spiritual suppression.
Aeron could feel it:
Once activated, this power would blanket the battlefield. Even fellow Great Grandmasters caught within its radius would find their wills crushed, their focus broken, their consciousness drowning.
---
"Unreasonable."
That was the only word Aeron could think of to describe it.
With this power alone, he was now untouchable among Great Grandmasters.
---
And still, he continued training.
Five more years passed.
Ten years since he first arrived in this world.
---
In the Vault, lightning flickered across empty air.
From nowhere, arcs of electricity danced across the stone walls, and the ground trembled.
Aeron opened his eyes.
A white spark leapt from his gaze—then vanished.
He had done the impossible again.
---
In the history of martial cultivation, spiritual power had limits.
It could attack.
It could kill.
But it couldn't influence the material world.
It couldn't move a pebble.
Until now.
Aeron Vale's spiritual pressure had reached a state so pure, so concentrated, it broke through that barrier.
He wasn't just a Great Grandmaster anymore.
He had created a new realm.
A realm beyond comprehension.
A realm beyond mortal limitation.
---
"This level… I will call it the Mythic Realm."
Because legends spoke of it in whispers—but no one had ever reached it.
Not even Elandar.
---
Aeron rose, eyes gleaming.
"Ten years remain."
He had spent ten years absorbing everything the Sanctum had to offer.
It was time to leave.
It was time to see the rest of the world.
---
Beyond the Sutra Vault, in the Courtyard of Still Waters, the abbot and the heads of each monastery branch sat together once more.
Abbott Ravel smiled faintly.
"I can feel it. My bottleneck… is loosening."
He was on the verge of stepping into the Grandmaster realm—a place he'd thought he'd never reach.
And it was all thanks to Aeron Vale.
The other masters nodded with quiet excitement.
They, too, had begun to glimpse advancement—perhaps in ten, twenty, or even thirty years.
Given their lifespan, they might yet reach their goal.
The entire monastery's future had changed.
---
Then, hurried footsteps.
A warrior monk rushed in.
"Abbot! Masters! Urgent news!"
They stood, alert.
"What is it?" the abbot asked.
The monk took a breath, stammering:
"The Living Buddha… he's… he's left the mountain."
---
Silence.
Then:
"What?"
The masters stood as one.
"Did he leave a message? A reason?"
The monk hesitated, then replied:
"He said… he's going to see the world."
---
The courtyard fell quiet once more.
But this time, it wasn't fear that filled the air.
It was awe.
---
(End of Chapter 7)