Later that evening, as the moon of the kingdom began it's slow ascent into the dusky sky, casting a silvery glow over the academy, Lucas sat alone on his bed, shirtless, quietly examining the fading bruise on his arm from the earlier duel. The defensive rune on his robe had taken the worst of the strike, but Princess Nyx's ice spear had still managed to bruise his flesh and jar his bones. He had hidden it well throughout the rest of the day, but the dull ache had lingered.
Lira had applied a cooling salve the moment she noticed the injury. Her hands had been gentle, her eyes full of concern, but Lucas had reassured her with a small smirk and a simple, "I've taken worse."
Now that the dormitory was quiet and his roommates were off somewhere—likely still bragging about the earlier duel—Lucas took a deep breath and let the silence surround him. He crossed his legs, let his body relax, and sank into the familiar state of meditation. The pain was still there, but he welcomed it. Pain reminded him that he was alive… and growing.
The clash with Princess Nyx had stirred something inside him—something fierce and hungry. It wasn't just the excitement of battle. It was the realization that he could stand toe-to-toe with someone in the Expert Rank… while still being an Adept. That duel had pushed his mind, body, and spirit past its limits, and now his meridians hummed with energy that hadn't yet settled.
He wasn't going to let it go to waste.
As he steadied his breath, he began to draw in Qi from his surroundings. He could feel it brushing against his skin like a breeze, whispering at his soul, eager to be taken in.
With each slow inhale, streams of Qi entered his body—rivers of vitality coursing through his meridians. He directed it slowly, carefully, letting it flow and spread, reinforcing damaged tissue, strengthening his core. His dual cultivation technique stirred to life within him, quietly circulating Qi with eerie precision. Even though Selene wasn't near, her Yin energy from the previous night still lingered within him, tucked deep inside like a glowing ember waiting to be reignited.
"I need more of that…" he thought briefly, before pushing the desire aside. Now wasn't the time.
Beads of sweat formed on his brow as the flow of Qi intensified. His heart beat steady, resonating with each pulsing wave of energy.
The memory of the duel came flooding back—the sharpness of her attacks, the aura of royalty, the chilling beauty of her ice… and how he had held his ground. That memory alone became fuel for his will.
He wasn't cultivating like a student.
He was cultivating like a man with a mission.
A man with ambition.
A man who had returned from a future filled with loss, and now stood in a time of chaos, wars, and political turmoil.
Lucas wasn't going to waste even a second of it.
The room remained silent, save for the subtle hum of spiritual energy and the slow, rhythmic breathing of a cultivator who refused to remain in anyone's shadow.
And so he sat—unmoving, unwavering—drawing strength from pain, from memory, and from an unrelenting hunger to rise.
As Lucas sat in deep meditation, letting the ambient Qi of the world fill his meridians and nourish his recovering body, his mind began to drift. At first, it was to the duel—the sharp precision of her strikes, the elegance of her movements—but then, it shifted fully to her. Princess Nyx.
He opened his eyes slowly, and a faint smirk curled at the corner of his lips.
"That girl…" he muttered inwardly, the memory of her swirling icy aura still fresh in his mind. Her beauty was otherworldly—long midnight hair that shimmered under the sun, eyes like sharp sapphires that bore into one's soul, and a body sculpted like a goddess of winter. But beyond her physical beauty was that aura—refined, untouchable, and regal. Even among the elite, she was on another level.
She wasn't just beautiful. She was powerful.
And it was that combination that stirred something in him—a craving, not just of desire, but of instinct. The dual cultivation technique burned softly within him like a whispering fire, urging him, teasing him with thoughts of what her Yin energy would feel like merging with his Yang. He could almost taste the power that would come from it.
But Lucas wasn't naive.
She was a princess. The daughter of the king. A symbol of the crown. Approaching her wasn't like charming a commoner or even an ordinary noble. There would be consequences—layers of politics, expectations, and perhaps more than a few swords pointed at his neck.
"She's a long shot," he admitted with a low sigh, leaning back and resting his palms on the edge of his bed. "But nothing is impossible."
He wasn't going to chase her blindly. He would rise first. Build influence. Make a name for himself, not as Xavier the coma patient… but as someone no one dared to underestimate.
And to do that, he needed more than strength. He needed allies. Powerful ones.
Women blessed with powerful Yin constitutions… rare talents… beauties that could elevate his cultivation and stand at his side as he climbed. He would form a harem—not merely of carnal desire—but of ambition. A circle of powerful women, each possessing unique talents, Yin energy, and status within this world.
Not just lovers, but partners in dominance.
Lucas closed his eyes again, this time not to meditate, but to visualize. Faces began to form in his mind. The faces of ladies he had seen earlier. Rumors even spoke of an aloof alchemist lady said to possess a body of Pure Yin.
Each of them… potential pieces in the puzzle he was building.
A slow, confident grin spread across his face.
"The academy is filled with opportunities," he mused. "And I'm going to seize them all."
Princess Nyx might be the crown jewel… but every king starts by building his court.
And Lucas Graves—reborn in this world of cultivation—was preparing to claim his throne, one beauty at a time.