Chapter 130
Spirit Creation
A window appeared rather abruptly, just as Leo was settling down.
[You have been baptized by the Primordial Lightning]
[... your body is undergoing changes.]
Just before Leo could muster any confusion about the rather short message, pain assailed him like the bolt of thunder itself, forcing him to his knees. A scream subconsciously escaped his lungs as he felt his skin begin to burn, his eyes begin to melt, and his mind begin to split. It was as though somebody took an axe to his consciousness, all whilst burning him alive. On top of all that, he keeled over as he felt something rush up his esophagus—a moment later, he began vomiting blood as black as obsidian itself.
His throat burned so much that he was unable to even scream any longer. At some point, his body was drained of all its strength, and he toppled forward, directly into the pool of black blood that he'd vomited. It was wet and slimy, and its stench caused yet another round of convulsions, forcing Leo to muster whatever little strength he could and fling himself sideways, away from it.
All the while, his body was pattered by the kinds of pains that he had never experienced before. He started gritting his teeth so firmly that his gums began to bleed, all until the pain reached them, too; he screamed, tearing through his throat, as he felt his teeth suddenly begin to fall out. Not for long, however, as his gums began to widen and part, giving way to a set of new ones.
He wasn't certain how long it lasted. Minutes, hours, days...
He never lost consciousness—even when it felt like his mind would shut itself down to save him from himself, something disallowed it. Forced to experience every bout of pain that he never wished upon any other soul, living or dead, by the end... he was whimpering.
Though the pain had passed, he was still sapped of energy, unable to move from the lying position, still occasionally twitching. He was covered in sweat and was cursing everything he'd ever known—silently, of course. Right then, a window appeared once again, floating just a few inches from his eyes.
[Your body had undergone a Primordial Baptism, expelling innermost impurities]
[Your Spirit Roots have evolved--Peak Tri-Elemental Earth Roots --> Peak Quad-Elemental Sky Roots --> Early Penta-Elemental Heaven Roots]
[You may learn Advanced Arts of the following Schools: Fire, Earth, Lightning, Air, and Light]
[You have broken through!]
[Peak Core Formation Realm --> Early Spirit Creation Realm]
[--you have gained a chance at Spiritual Apotheosis]
[Spiritual Apotheosis -- rather than manifesting a Spirit, devour wholly one of the 33 Primordial Spirits and make their essence yours]
[...]
[--Primordial Spirits could not be located.]
[...]
[You have achieved Spiritual Apotheosis! Effects will be mirrored as though you've consumed U'thun, Primordial Spirit of War]
[...]
[You become immune to all negative statuses if engaged in warfare]
[You gain up to One Major Realm worth of Qi if fighting from a disadvantageous position in a battle]
[All your Disciples gain major resistances to negative statuses if they are fighting by your side]
[Your wounds will regenerate fifty times as quickly if you are engaged in a battle with an army by yourself]
[All your offensive Martial Arts will always Echo, expanding to the nearest 10 enemies if engaged in a large-scale battle]
[Soldiers bannered under you will never rout due to fear or depleted morale]
[All Battle Formations headed by you have their effects increased by 1000%]
[In case of your Death, all of your soldiers will immediately enter a terror state and flee the battlefield in panic, no matter what]
[Your Direct Disciples inherit 1% of these effects per Major Realm]
[You may never sue for peace—if engaged in a war, you must either destroy or be destroyed]
[You may accept surrender only if the Commander of the enemy army is dead]
[Your natural affinity with Warlike Spirits is greatly increased]
[Upon winning a battle, consume 1% of the collectively spent Qi to increase your own reserves]
[...]
[You have learned two new Arts: Simple Battle Formation, Warrior's Spirit]
[Simple Battle Formation: requires at minimum 10 participants. Overwhelm the opposition with simple yet destructive attacks]
[Warrior's Spirit: Declare an area around you your Domain. Enemies' Defensive Arts are 60% less effective while within the Domain. The size scales per your Realm]
[...]
[You have gained two items: General's Breastplate, Scroll of Warfare]
[General's Breastplate: can only be equipped by a Direct Disciple. For the duration, they gain 50% of the effects of your Spiritual Apotheosis. Consumes inordinate amounts of Qi. Requires the wearer to have at least 20% of their Qi be Primordial Qi]
[Scroll of Warfare: spatially lock an area spanning 40 miles in all directions. Nobody can enter or leave it until you undo it. Remaining uses: 2/2]
[...]
[You have unlocked a new Physique: Weak Primordial Body]
[Weak Primordial Body: allows you to store greater amounts of Primordial Qi, and increases efficiency of use. Your body becomes difficult to damage through ordinary means]
[...]
[Gained 20 System XP!]
[System Level: 3; XP: 20/30]
[...]
[Congratulations, and good luck!]
Leo was gasping for breath, reading the expansive window line by line until he could only do one thing: laugh. He laughed and laughed, almost like a maniac, and continued laughing even after the window faded.
He laughed until he was short of breath yet again, slowly stopping as he sat back up. Soaked in drying sweat, he sighed and changed robes, burning the ones he was just wearing. He watched the flames silently, mulling over everything he'd achieved.
There was always that fear, the fear that he was obtaining things through relative ease. Fear that those who've struggled for their strength might be able to overpower him. And though today was a lesson in pain, that fear persisted. After all, looking at the state of evolution, would there not be a soul in the entire world who would beg for this? And endure twice, thrice, and ten times the amount of pain he did?
He writhed on the ground for a while, enduring pain that, admittedly, made him want to die, but he'd come out of it stronger in ways that he couldn't even quantify just yet. Just the fact that he broke through to the Spirit Creation Realm, something that took Liang over a decade of dedicated cultivation and resource consumption that was difficult to fathom, was likely enough to break all of the world's conventions. He was a staggering anomaly, yet too unique to share his methods with anyone.
There was something that was made clear by this—he did have a role in this world, most certainly. And it wasn't just to sit back in the forest, sip the fruit juice, and frolic about with the animals, occasionally helping the lost stragglers.
And though he was blind to most else, he knew he couldn't be blind to this any longer. Whatever was happening was happening at an accelerated rate—the abrupt shift in weather proved as much—and whatever 'entities' were to come into this world eventually, chances were that he was the only person in the world who was aware.
Yue and Liang weren't enough—it was clear that he'd actually have to develop a Sect, establish it from the ground up, and work from there. He had all the tools, he figured, except one—location. It was rather difficult to 'recruit' Disciples when the Sect's headquarters were located dab-smack in the middle of a forbidden area considered wholly haunted and deadly by the vast majority of the world.
And it wasn't as though he could rely on the random events of fate gifting him new Disciples. In the months he'd been here, he only got two, after all, and one of them was technically stolen from another Sect.
While he himself could not leave the forest, he could send out others. He didn't care for talent—it was clear that he had the ability to change people's talents, and he still had a litany of pills swinging around in his spatial ring. So, unlike most other Sects, he could recruit just about anyone and make of them something, at the very least.
The first thought was to recruit young orphans, but he had some reservations. For starters, he didn't know just how much time he had. Additionally, trying to rear kids would be doubly difficult, as it wouldn't just be about teaching them cultivation but also teaching them life. Raising them, educating them, and patiently waiting until they grow up.
The second thought was the teens and young adults—whether they were homeless, part of a bandit group, or perhaps even Disciples of other Sects whose talents disallowed them from ever doing anything much. The difficulty there was that, unlike with the kids whose thoughts and ideas and perceptions he could slowly reshape in due time, the teens and young adults would likely come with 'predefined' sets of beliefs that would be difficult to alter.
Even Yue and Liang, for all the changes they underwent while here, were still largely the same people they were when he 'recruited' them, with similar sets of beliefs.
"Haah," he sighed, stretching lazily as his bones cracked and slowly heading back toward Azariel. He didn't know whether the man was still there or had gone back to the camp, but he would check, as it was all in the same direction anyway.
Luckily, he did have one person with vastly more experience than him when it came to these matters—Lu Yang. Though the old man never governed a Sect, he was still a Clan Head with rather transferable skills. If anyone would know what the optimal course of action was, it was him.
However, it meant that Leo would have to divulge certain 'secrets' and would mean that he'd have to give his unconditional trust to the old man, believing that the latter would not run off to betray them. For better or worse, however, it was time that he trusted somebody--what he was meant to do, after all, he could never do all by his lonesome, and if he was to build an army, he would have to start from one man first.