Jalen and Zakai left the Mountain of Fortitude behind, searching for a quiet place within Arian to rest and recover. The sealed state was vast, but not empty. As they traveled, their presence stirred the air—two cultivators whose auras rippled with power, drawing attention like moths to a flame.
It wasn't long before they encountered a group of cultivators. Sky Limit Realm experts and Peak Sage Realm elites, some of whom had followed them from the subrealm. They didn't approach aggressively. In fact, they kept their distance, watching with reverence and curiosity.
Zakai's aura alone was enough to silence most. A Peak Sky Limit Realm cultivator was rare—almost mythical—in Arian. Many had never seen one in their lifetime. But it was Jalen who truly stunned them. A mid Sage Realm expert in his early twenties? That was a crown-smack to the pride of every cultivator present. It defied logic, shattered expectations, and made them question everything they thought they knew about cultivation.
One of the cultivators, an early Sky Limit Realm expert with a calm demeanor, stepped forward.
"Good day, sirs," he said, bowing slightly. "You're new here, correct? From the outside?"
Zakai didn't bother with pleasantries. "What of it?"
The man hesitated, then smiled. "We're just curious. It's rare to see cultivators of you fine gentlemen's caliber enter this realm."
Every century, maybe once or twice, some unfortunate cultivator slips in, but none of Zakai and Jalen's realm.
"We're not obligated to answer that," Zakai replied bluntly.
"Of course not," the man said, unfazed. "But if you're searching for a place to rest, my clan would be honored to host you. Both of you."
Zakai glanced at Jalen, who gave a subtle nod. "Well, since you offer—why not?"
Other Sky Limit Realm cultivators stepped forward, offering similar invitations. But Zakai declined them all respectfully. He and Jalen followed the first man to his sect—a sprawling compound nestled between two ridges, surrounded by dense forests and shimmering lakes.
It wasn't as grand as the Light Clan, but it was formidable. Dozens of Sage Realm experts resided there, making it one of the strongest sects in the Arian state. The man who invited them was a Grand Elder, a pillar of the clan's strength and authority.
He led them to the finest guest quarters, where they were greeted by the clan leader and several elders. Zakai was polite, engaging in conversation and answering questions with grace. Jalen, however, remained quiet. His mind was elsewhere. On the revelation that unfolded with his second spirit core. He questions if all that was said is true. And if yes, what does that make him? And how did his parents, who would be considered normal mortal cultivators, give birth to someone or something like him? These were the questions plaguing him.
However, some elders took offense to his silence and indifference towards them, especially those who were a subrealm above him. But they held their tongues, unwilling to disrespect the guest of their Grand Elder.
Eventually, Jalen excused himself and returned to his quarters. He sat cross-legged, entering a meditative posture to stabilize his qi. Hours passed. Zakai came to check on him but didn't disturb him. Instead, he sat nearby and began cultivating as well.
The next day, Jalen stirred. His body still ached, but his spirit felt steadier. He left the guest quarters and wandered into the courtyard where disciples trained. This group was the outer sect—young cultivators between eighteen and thirty, most ranging from the Emerald Realm to the Amethyst Realm.
Jalen watched them quietly. Their movements were disciplined, their qi controlled. But one figure stood out.
A young woman, about his age, stood at the far end of the courtyard. Her aura was chaotic—three types of elemental qi clashing violently within her. She was at the late Pearl Realm, but her body was barely holding together. Her meridians were frayed, her dantian scarred, and her spirit sea in shambles.
Yet she endured.
She had already formed three embryonic cores. And if she survived, she would possess three spirit cores someday—a phenomenon rarer than even a dual-core structure. But with her energies in constant disharmony, it was a miracle she hadn't died already.
Jalen walked toward her. The courtyard fell silent. Disciples stopped practicing. Elders and instructors turned their gaze. The guest of their Grand Elder was moving—with purpose.
The young woman noticed him and instinctively lowered her head, trembling slightly.
Jalen raised his hand, using a gentle breeze of wind qi to lift her chin. "There's no need for that. I'm here because you interest me."
"Me?" she asked, startled. "I mean… senior?"
"What's your name?"
"I am Calista," she said softly.
"I'm Jalen," he replied. "And from today, I am your master. Do you object?"
Calista's eyes widened. "Really?"
She caught herself, bowing deeply. "This junior accepts your proposal."
"Good. And call me 'master' from now on. 'Senior' feels weird—we're practically the same age."
"Yes, master," she said, her voice trembling with awe.
The courtyard erupted in whispers. Elders exchanged glances. Disciples stared in disbelief. Jalen had just taken a disciple—here, in their sect.
A figure appeared—a sect elder, his aura steady and respectful. He bowed to Jalen.
"Senior, I mean no disrespect," he said carefully. "But no disciple of our clan may take on a master outside the sect."
Jalen turned to Calista. "So, do you want to stay in your sect… or become my second disciple?"
Calista felt the weight of the moment press against her chest. Her heart pounded—not from fear, but from the thrill of possibility. To be chosen by Jalen, a Sage Realm expert, was beyond anything she'd imagined. Yet she hadn't expected it to come with a choice. The Westminster Clan had been her home for nearly a year. She had friends here, elders who had guided her, and a steady supply of cultivation resources, shelter, and food. They had treated her well. Accepting Jalen's offer would be a monumental step forward—especially for someone at her modest realm. But it would also feel like betrayal. To leave now might seem ungrateful, as if she were discarding the very people who had helped her survive.
"Think about it," Jalen said gently. "You have two days."
Then, without another word, he vanished—using Flash Reversion.
The courtyard gasped. Even the Sage Realm elders were stunned. They had never seen a technique like that. It was instantaneous, seamless, and left no trace.