Amon stared at Brama for quite a while before finally letting out a quiet sigh. In his heart, he had already made a decision: this man could be trusted. At the very least, Brama had saved his life when he was at death's door. Even now, if Brama had intended to harm him, it would've been easy. But he didn't. And that was more than enough for Amon.
"I come from the Mighty Wind Sect," Amon finally said. "I'm the second of three siblings. Our sect is the strongest in the Anjara Province." His tone was firm, as if deliberately trying to impress Brama. "Have you ever heard of the Mighty Wind Sect?"
Brama looked at him calmly, then shook his head. "I don't recall ever hearing of it. In fact... I don't remember anything before waking up in this forest."
"I see…" Amon nodded slowly. He didn't seem disappointed—perhaps he had anticipated that answer.
He continued, "Our sect manages many dungeons—from level 10 up to level 3."
"Why only up to level 3? Isn't your sect number one?" Brama asked, puzzled.
Amon gave a wry smile. "That's a fair question coming from someone with memory loss," he muttered. "But alright, I'll explain."
He took a breath and began explaining calmly.
"Level 10 dungeons usually contain beasts ranging from level 1 to 10.
Level 9: level 11–25.
Level 8: 26–50.
Level 7: 51–65.
Level 6: 66–80.
Level 5: 81–95.
Level 4: 96–120.
And level 3 dungeons house creatures from level 121 to 150."
Brama nodded slowly. The pattern made sense. But he wasn't fully satisfied.
"What about level 2 and level 1 dungeons?"
"Level 2 dungeons contain beasts between level 151 and 200. As for level 1… they're immeasurable. No one knows their limit. The creatures inside are truly dangerous," Amon said seriously. "And it's not just about level. Sometimes, the beasts inside a dungeon have different soul types. That makes everything much more complicated. That's why there are usually at least five people on a team when entering a dungeon."
Brama pondered. "So what's the benefit of clearing a dungeon?"
"Many," Amon replied firmly. "You can level up, obtain rare treasures, weapons, or even skill books. But the spirit stones found in dungeons are generally only 25% pure. They must be refined first to be safely consumed."
Brama asked again, "Do spirit beasts always drop spirit stones?"
"Not always," Amon replied. "But there's a 98% chance. The rest could be other items—it depends on the world's system or the dungeon's rules. Outside of dungeons, it's harder to find items like skill books or weapons. As for subspatial zones like this forest, they may follow different rules. Subspatials have their own regulations and advantages. Sometimes, they don't give any rewards at all. Even so, if one is discovered, people will fight for it. For example, this subspatial zone—Tyranny Forest—has a 100% drop rate and 100% quality. Who would refuse that?"
Brama nodded. "So... how important are spirit stones to cultivators?"
"Very," Amon said firmly. "They're the primary fuel for cultivation. They've even become our currency."
"Can everyone become a cultivator?"
Amon shook his head. "Not everyone can cultivate. Cultivation is a talent—something you're born with. Long ago, before the level system appeared, we relied on pure cultivation—training the body and soul. But the level system changed everything. Maybe it's a blessing for those without natural cultivation talent."
"Wait," Brama interrupted. "So this level system… is new?"
Amon chuckled softly. "New? Maybe not to the world. But yes, it appeared about 10,000 years ago, when a mysterious artifact emerged in our world—an ancient pagoda that rose from the earth."
Brama listened intently.
"To this day, the highest floor ever reached is the 95th, and that was 4,990 years ago. The cultivator who emerged was gravely injured and mentally shattered. Before dying, he could only mutter, 'Our world… will perish…'" Amon's voice grew somber. "That was the turning point for our world."
Brama was silent. The story far exceeded his imagination.
"That pagoda brought a new system. We call it the level system. Since then, the world has never been the same. Whether it's a blessing... or a curse... no one truly knows."
Amon looked at Brama for a moment, then continued.
"You've gathered quite a few spirit stones. Do you already know the differences in levels and quality?"
"Not completely," Brama replied honestly. He didn't mention the help of his system.
Amon smiled and began to explain.
"A level 1 spirit stone can provide about 10 minutes of cultivation. Level 2 gives around 20 minutes, and so on. But the important thing is this: level 1–10 spirit stones can only be used during the 'Energy Adjustment' phase. After that, you'll need higher-level stones."
Brama paid close attention. This information was critical.
"Level 11–30 stones are used for the next phase, known as the Movement Synchronization Stage. And it goes on from there."
"Do you think I'm suitable to join your sect?" Brama asked finally.
"Of course," Amon replied. "With your strength... the sect would value you highly."
Brama considered for a moment. "I'll think about it."
After a brief silence, Amon asked softly, "Brama... may I join you on your hunt tomorrow?"
Brama raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
Amon nodded. "I think I'll have recovered enough by tomorrow. Even if I'm not fully healed, I believe I can take care of myself."
Brama looked at him for a moment. "We'll see tomorrow. If you're in good condition, then it's fine."
In truth, Brama didn't want to take unnecessary risks. If Amon wasn't ready, he wouldn't hesitate to leave him behind.
"I'm going out to hunt for food. I don't eat dog meat, so I'll need to find some rabbits or something similar."
Brama stood up, picked up his weapon, and headed toward the safe zone while calling out to his system.
"System, why have you been so quiet today?"
> Ding. No direct commands received from the Host. System remains on standby until requested.
Brama clicked his tongue. "What Amon said earlier... do you think it's true?"
> Ding. 90% accurate. Remaining information cannot be verified as the system has not scanned the relevant objects directly.
Brama nodded slightly. At least most of what Amon said could be trusted.
His steps continued—hunting for food for the night, while sorting through the many questions now filling his mind about this unfamiliar world.
As they ate, the conversation between them continued casually.
Suddenly, Amon's tone shifted slightly—more serious.
"Brama, how about learning one of the techniques from the Mighty Wind Sect?"
His voice was light, but his gaze held a glimmer of hope. He knew that chances to tie Brama to his sect wouldn't come often. This was a small step—but an important one.
Brama turned, a bit surprised. "A skill? Don't I need a skill book to learn one?"
Amon gave a thin smile. "Not always. Yes, skill books can instantly implant understanding into your mind—quick and efficient. But the skill I'm talking about isn't like that. It's a basic technique, usually learned through direct training. Common among cultivators."
Brama nodded slowly, then asked again, "But… wouldn't that break your sect's rules? Teaching skills to outsiders?"
Amon paused to think before answering. "Technically, yes. It's against the rules. But I believe you'll join our sect eventually. So… consider this an investment."
Amon's smile carried strong conviction. He truly hoped Brama would become part of his sect.
But Brama slowly shook his head. "I don't think… now is the right time. Accepting a skill from your sect before I officially become a part of it… would make me feel indebted."
He was honest. This world was still too foreign to him. Too many questions remained unanswered.
Amon didn't respond right away. Then he said, "Alright then, I'll teach you just a basic skill. It's a common technique—almost every cultivator knows how to perform it. It's called Wood Class. The lowest tier, but still useful."
Brama looked at Amon seriously. "If it's something commonly used, I have no objection. But… don't tell me I have to start calling you 'Master' after this."
Amon burst into laughter. "Ha! Of course not, Brama. I may be half-dead, but my ego's still alive. Besides, we're not that far apart in age—and I'm not the kind who likes being worshipped."
Brama chuckled. "Alright then, I accept your goodwill. Teach me."
With a faint smile, Amon began instructing him—step by step. Every hand movement. Every breath pattern. Every energy path that had to be properly directed. He didn't just explain with words but demonstrated and repeated it—despite his body not being fully healed.
Amon shifted and sat closer to the clean wooden floor. With his finger, he drew a small circle in the fine dust. In the center of the circle, he etched two intersecting lines.
"This is the basic point," he said. "To use this skill, you must first gather aura into your dantian, then channel it into your wrist—and from there, release your strike in a single short burst. Not a full punch, but not a weak one either."
Brama leaned in, paying close attention.
"Iron Strike," Amon continued, "isn't about muscle strength, but aura control. If you're too forceful, the energy will leak. Too weak, and the effect vanishes. What you need is quick compression—like an aura snap that boosts momentum."
Amon demonstrated the motion slowly. His body was still frail, but his hand movements revealed practiced precision. He clenched the air and thrust forward in a short burst. His hand didn't touch anything, but the dust on the floor was pushed back in a small ring.
"Now you try. Slowly. Focus your aura into the dantian, draw it into your arm, then release it."
Brama tried.
He closed his eyes, gathering energy with each breath. A warm sensation rose from the center of his body, then flowed downward to his right hand. But as he attempted to swing his strike like Amon's, the energy scattered before reaching his fingertips.
"Your focus is too dispersed," Amon said calmly. "Try again. Draw the energy through a single path, not as a mist."
Brama tried again. This time, he imagined a narrow channel from his chest to his wrist. He adjusted his breathing more slowly. Ruda, off to the side, opened one eye and watched his master quietly.
Sweat trickled from Brama's temple. He moved his hand with controlled speed… and when he struck forward—
WHOOSH!
The air was pushed aside. The gentle blast sliced through the dust on the floor like a knife through water.
Amon nodded with satisfaction. "That's it. Repeat it three more times. Slowly. Memorize the feel of the energy flow."
Brama followed the instructions. One, two, three times he repeated it. His body began recognizing the rhythm of the skill. A faint soreness spread through his wrist muscles—a sign that his body was adapting to the strain.
After the fourth strike, the system chimed:
> Ding
Host has successfully learned the skill: Iron Strike
You may activate it by channeling aura to your dantian and snapping it toward your target.
Effect: STR and AGI +5% for 10 seconds when attacking.
Cooldown: 30 seconds.
Brama exhaled deeply. He stood up, clenching his right fist. "This skill… is more technical than I expected. But I get it now."
Amon just smiled. "If you could grasp it in one night, then maybe you were born to fight."
Brama gave a small laugh. "I'd rather not fight if I can help it."
"Too late for that," Amon replied, leaning back against the wall.
Brama flexed his fingers. "This skill is simple… but efficient."
"That's why almost every cultivator in our sect learns it. It doesn't need high mastery but can be decisive in short duels," Amon explained.
Brama nodded. He felt that even though this skill wasn't flashy, it was very suitable for someone like him who had no formal combat techniques yet.
"Thanks, Amon."
"Think of it as repaying the debt for saving my life and nursing me back," Amon said with a faint smile. "Besides, I'm still hoping you'll join our sect someday."
Brama didn't reply, but he knew that conversation wasn't over—Amon wouldn't give up anytime soon.
Meanwhile, Ruda—who had been silent in a meditative state—suddenly opened his eyes. A faint red glow appeared in his pupils. A wave of heat surged briefly before vanishing.
Brama turned. "You done cultivating?"
Ruda nodded slowly and lightly flapped his wings, dispersing the lingering aura mist around his body. Kwaaak—his voice was soft but steady.
Amon smiled at the sight. "This bird… is extremely well-trained. Not many spirit beasts can cultivate independently with that kind of stability."
"He's more than just a spirit beast," Brama said quietly. "He's a friend."
The three of them spent the rest of the night in an atmosphere much warmer than the previous ones. Amon could finally sit cross-legged comfortably. Brama had acquired a new skill. And Ruda showed solid development. For a moment, the outside world—even the reality that they were still trapped in an unknown subspatial realm—felt distant.