The glyphs on the pedestal slowly dimmed, their energy flowing into Chase's chest like a river of lightning and shadow. His breath hitched as the power surged within him—warm and cold, crackling and silent, dancing in perfect dissonance. It wasn't violent like before. It was calm, assured, like a piece of him was finally returning home.
He felt it.The broken remnants of his dantian—the spiritual core every cultivator needed—were reforming.
No… not reforming. Reforging.
This was something else entirely.
A thunderclap echoed through the mountaintop, though the skies were clear. Chase's body pulsed with power as dual energies spiraled deep inside his core, weaving together—lightning and darkness fusing in a swirl of ancient balance. This wasn't just a repaired dantian.
It was a Dual Core Variant. Something born of destruction. Something rare.
And then it happened again.
Milo, who had been sitting beside Chase, suddenly let out a sharp squeal and floated upward. A cocoon of light enveloped the tiny beast, glowing with deep green and hints of gold and violet. Its form trembled in the air as it hovered and expanded, fur shifting and spiking, limbs growing longer, its body more agile, sleeker, leaner—no longer just an odd-looking fox-rabbit creature.
When the light shattered, Milo hovered beside Chase, eyes gleaming gold.
"Milo?" Chase whispered.
A voice echoed in his mind."Stronger now… bonded deeper… I protect you, and you protect me."
The creature now looked like a mystical beast from an ancient tale. Foxlike ears, a leaner tail with streaks of lightning patterns, and faint scales running along its legs and spine. Its aura pulsed faintly with elemental resonance—darkness and lightning, just like Chase.
Chase reached out and touched Milo's head gently. "You're evolving just to keep up with me?"
"No. We evolve together." The voice was clearer now—calm, youthful, slightly mischievous.
From the side, Mason floated into view with a slow nod. "Took long enough. Thought you'd explode or something mid-way and give me a heart attack."
Chase stood up, breath still ragged. He felt stronger—light on his feet and yet grounded. Energy flowed smoothly, precisely. He turned to Mason. "What… am I now?"
Mason studied him for a moment. "You've officially stepped into the Core Formation realm—early stage. But what you've formed isn't a normal core. You've created a Dual Core Variant—darkness and lightning, constantly revolving and feeding off each other. Stable, for now. But it'll get more complicated."
Chase blinked. "So... is that high?"
Mason scoffed. "Kid, in your family, the strongest elder was barely Rank 4—mid Qi Condensation. You're Rank 6 now—Core Formation Realm, Early Stage. You've jumped realms most cultivators spend decades chasing."
He raised a finger, flicking it in the air. Glowing runes appeared behind him, each symbolizing a rank.
Cultivation Ranks:
Body Tempering
Foundation Building
Qi Condensation
Spirit Gathering
Soul Refinement
Core Formation
Nascent Soul
Spirit Ascension
Origin Root
Void Vein
Star King
Heavenbound Apex
"And above that..." Mason added ominously, "are the realms not even this continent has seen in a thousand years."
Chase stared at the floating ranks. "So I'm... not at the bottom anymore?"
"You're a frog who finally climbed out of the well," Mason said with a chuckle. "Now you'll see just how vast the world truly is. And the climb gets steeper from here."
A sudden surge of energy behind Chase drew his attention. His old spear—chipped, dull, and worn—began to tremble. Lightning sparked across its shaft, and shadow rippled beneath it. It floated, spinning mid-air, as if resonating with his new core.
Then—crack!
The spear snapped apart. But instead of falling, the fragments hovered and reassembled—reforged by Chase's elemental resonance. The darkwood gleamed, now laced with streaks of silver lightning. Its blade lengthened, darker than obsidian and rimmed with pale violet light. At its core, it pulsed with the same rhythm as Chase's heartbeat.
Mason blinked. "...Well, I'll be damned."
Chase caught the spear as it landed gently in his palm. Lighter. Sharper. Perfectly attuned. "Looks like I'm not the only one who leveled up."
Milo snorted. "Finally. You look less like a beggar pretending to be a warrior."
Chase shot him a mock glare. "Says the evolved lightning rat."
"Mystic Shadowfox, thank you very much."
Mason clapped his hands. "Enough chit-chat. You've trained for seven years. It's time."
Chase turned slowly to face him.
"Time for what?"
"To leave," Mason said, voice quieter now. "There's nothing more for you here. Your foundation is stronger than most experts. You've awakened a unique core, gained a bonded beast, and reforged a weapon that can grow with you."
He floated toward Chase and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"I trained you because I saw something dangerous in you. Power and pain. Fire and hunger. I didn't train you to live here forever—I trained you so you could go out and become something. Something that changes the world… or breaks it."
Chase lowered his head. For all of Mason's eccentricities, the old man had saved his life. Shaped it.
"Thank you," Chase whispered.
Mason sighed, brushing it off. "Yeah, yeah, go cry into your fancy spear."
Chase grinned.
He looked out across the vast mountain range—the horizon stretching endlessly into the unknown.
The world was waiting.
And he was no longer broken.
He was blind. But stronger.Lost. But awakened.Alone? Never again.
Chase looked out across the vast mountain range—the horizon stretching endlessly into the unknown.
The world was waiting.
He turned back toward Mason, who stood watching him with his usual grumpy expression—but his eyes… they weren't mocking or smug this time. There was something else there. A flicker of pride. And perhaps… sorrow.
"You're really kicking me out, huh?" Chase asked, half-grinning.
Mason snorted. "You think I trained you for bedtime stories and tea parties? You've grown as much as you can up here. What you need now is experience. Blood. Pressure. You won't find that hiding behind me."
There was a long pause.
"You sure you won't miss me?" Chase asked, voice quieter now.
Mason didn't answer right away. He stepped forward, reaching into his sleeve and pulling out a small talisman—black and gold, etched with swirling symbols of lightning and shadow. He pressed it into Chase's hand.
"If you're ever about to die, burn this," Mason said gruffly. "I'll come find you."
Chase's breath caught.
For all Mason's antics, this was the first time he had offered something… fatherly.
"Thanks," Chase murmured. "For everything."
Mason scoffed. "Tch. Don't get soft on me, brat. You're a walking disaster with a lightning rod. I'm just protecting my investment."
Chase smirked, but the sting behind his eyes didn't fade.
Mason added, a little quieter, "...You were more than just a student, you know. You were a second chance."
That froze Chase in place. He didn't know what Mason meant. But the words hit harder than any lecture, any lightning bolt, any cliff climb.
Chase stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"Then I'll make it worth your time."
Mason grunted and turned his back. "Just don't die."
Chase rose, eyes steady. "Milo, let's go."
"Wait, don't we get a dramatic exit line?" Milo asked, twitching his tail.
Chase smiled. "We don't need one."
And with that, he descended the mountain—each step echoing with the promise of a new beginning.