Three Years

Yulan Calendar year 10003, Spring.

Akes pushed open the gates of the Earl's Mansion, the chill of early morning rushing to meet him. He took a deep breath, the air carrying the scent of grass and dew, along with the faint, distant clamor of the marketplace.

Another new day.

He walked along the stone path of the estate toward the cultivation room, pausing as he passed the garden. Old Tom the gardener was crouched before a flowerbed, pruning branches. Hearing footsteps, he looked up, revealing a smile missing a front tooth: "Good morning, My Lord."

"Morning." Akes nodded, his gaze falling on a fiery red plant in the center of the bed. "The Flame Flower has bloomed?"

"It has, it has, it opened just yesterday evening." Old Tom stood up, his tone tinged with pride. "This thing is delicate as can be; it took me two years of tending to finally figure it out. Look at this color—a genuine fire-element magic plant. It would fetch at least thirty gold coins at the market."

Akes smiled. Thirty gold coins meant little to him, but he understood Old Tom's pride. The old gardener was a native of the Imperial Capital who had worked at the Earl's Mansion for three years, turning a once-neglected garden into a well-ordered space while experimenting with growing magic plants himself.

"Hard work. Your bonus will be doubled this month."

"Oh my, thank you, My Lord!" Old Tom's eyes crinkled into slits.

Akes waved a hand and continued toward the cultivation room.

Three years.

When he first arrived in the Yulan Empire three years ago, this Earl's Mansion had been empty, containing nothing but a few servants forced upon him by King Clyde. Now, the estate had Kaman the butler, Old Tom the gardener, Aunt Martha the cook, Little Luke the groom, and four guards—all retired veterans he had recruited from the Mercenary Guild, average in strength but sufficiently loyal.

Life just went on, day by day.

Akes pushed open the door to the cultivation room, and the familiar, scorching heat rushed to meet him. The magic array beneath the floor ran day and night, keeping the room at a high temperature year-round. He took off his outer robe, hung it on the rack, and sat cross-legged on the meditation cushion.

Five hearts toward the sky, visualizing the Nuwa Diagram.

The figure with a human head and snake body in his mind was now as clear as if it were real. The surrounding galaxy rotated slowly, and with every turn, a wisp of cool energy seeped into the depths of his soul. Three years of uninterrupted visualization had made his spiritual energy even more solid than when he had first arrived.

By his own estimation, his spiritual energy had already touched the threshold of the ninth rank. His magic power still lagged behind; he was currently at the mid-stage of the eighth rank, with some distance yet to go before reaching the high stage.

This speed was not slow, but it could not be called fast, either.

The Fallen Heart Flame burned silently within his body, tempering his magic power without a moment's rest. The Five Spirit Wheel absorbed the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, converting it into the purest fire elements that flowed continuously into his magic core. With the two treasures combined, his cultivation efficiency was more than ten times that of an ordinary person.

But the magic power required to go from the eighth rank to the ninth was immense—so much so that even with these "cheat codes," he could only grind away at it bit by bit.

There was no room for haste.

Akes reined in his thoughts and sank into cultivation.

Two hours later, he opened his eyes and exhaled a breath of turbid air. The walls of the cultivation room were dampened by a layer of sweat. He stood up and stretched his stiff limbs.

It was noon.

He walked out of the cultivation room, returned to his room to shower, changed into clean clothes, and went to the dining room. Aunt Martha had already prepared lunch: snow-beef grilled to perfection, served with a fresh vegetable salad and a bowl of steaming mushroom soup.

"My Lord, there is fresh bluefin tuna at the market today. I bought two; shall I make fish soup for you tonight?" Aunt Martha asked while setting the table.

"Fine, you decide."

Akes sat down to eat. Aunt Martha's cooking was good, far better than the mass-produced meals he had endured at the Ernst Institute cafeteria. He ate slowly, his mind occupied with other matters.

He had an appointment in the afternoon.

Sir Holman, a director of the Imperial Magic Guild and a seventh-rank wind-element mage. This man was someone Akes had met after arriving in Magnolia; they weren't exactly close, but he was one of the few people in the Imperial Capital's magic circle with whom Akes could hold a conversation.

Holman was an interesting character. As a noble, he lacked the arrogance and hypocrisy of most of his peers; as a mage, he didn't walk around with a stiff face like those old pedants. He liked to drink, liked to chat, enjoyed hearing about strange anecdotes from various places, and would occasionally drag Akes to the Imperial Capital's arena to watch matches.

There was no real business for their afternoon meeting; Holman had simply said he had gotten his hands on two bottles of fine wine and invited him over to taste them.

Akes felt this kind of social interaction was fine. No need to overthink, no need to be on guard—just drink, chat, and go home.

After finishing his meal, he changed into more formal attire and headed to Holman's mansion.

Holman's title was not high—merely a Viscount—but his mansion was well-situated on the east side of the inner city, very close to the Magic Guild. When Akes arrived, a servant led him directly to the garden.

"Haha, Akes is here!" Holman was lying on a lounge chair in the garden, soaking up the sun. Seeing him, he stood up and waved. "Come, come, look at what good stuff I've gotten my hands on."

Akes walked over and saw two bottles of wine resting on a stone table. The bottles were made of dark glass, the seals stamped with wax.

"Blaze Wine from the Fenlai Kingdom, twenty-year vintage." Holman said triumphantly. "A friend brought it back from there. Even though that whole business happened in Fenlai a few years ago, this wine is top-tier stuff. There isn't much stock left."

Akes took the bottle and examined it. He had heard of Blaze Wine; it was a specialty of Fenlai, brewed by soaking the feathers of fire flamingos, and it provided a slight boost to fire-element mages. However, at his current strength, such a boost was negligible.

"Truly rare." He placed the bottle back on the table. "We're drinking this today?"

"Of course, why else would I call you?" Holman signaled a servant to bring two crystal glasses, opened one bottle, and poured the amber liquid, which carried a faint, flame-like luster.

The two clinked glasses.

As the wine hit his throat, it was indeed potent, a surge of heat rising from his stomach. Akes savored it for a moment and nodded: "Not bad."

"Right?" Holman poured himself another glass, looking pleased. "By the way, I heard you turned down the Magic Guild's invitation again?"

Akes glanced at him: "Your sources are quick."

"Heh, I'm close with those old fogies at the guild." Holman leaned back in his chair. "They've mentioned you several times, asking how Earl Akes, being so young and already at the eighth rank, and an alumnus of the Ernst Institute to boot, could be so unwilling to participate in guild activities?"

"Too lazy."

Holman was choked by the answer, then burst into laughter: "Fine, that's a solid enough reason. But seriously, don't you plan on making more friends in the capital? You're an Earl, yet you spend all day cooped up in your mansion cultivating, never attending banquets or going to the arena. What are you aiming for?"

Akes raised his glass and took a sip: "Aiming to reach the ninth rank sooner."

"And then?"

"And then, I plan to reach the Saint Realm sooner."

Holman blinked and poured himself another glass of wine. "You... how should I put this? Having a clear goal is a good thing, but when it comes to cultivation, sometimes you have to balance tension and relaxation. If you bury your head in bitter training every single day, you might just find yourself stuck at a bottleneck, unable to move."

Akes thought about it, and there was some truth to those words. Before he transmigrated, he had read plenty of novels, and there were indeed cases of people training so hard they suffered from qi deviation.

"Fine, I'll listen to you. I'll get out and walk around more often from now on."

"That's the spirit." Holman nodded with satisfaction. "There's a good show at the Colosseum next month—a battle between Level 9 magical beasts. I managed to get two tickets, so we'll go together then."

"Deal."

The two drank for a while longer, chatting about gossip and anecdotes from the Imperial Capital. Holman was well-informed; he knew which noble had made a fool of themselves and which chamber of commerce had lost a fortune. He recounted these stories vividly, which was quite entertaining.

By evening, Akes took his leave.

Returning to the Earl's Mansion, Aunt Martha's fish soup had just finished cooking. He drank a bowl, ate some bread, and then went to the study to handle the day's correspondence.

Most of it was trivial—accounts from the chamber of commerce, reports from the territory, and invitations to various noble banquets. Akes looked through them one by one, signing what needed to be signed and declining what needed to be refused.

The last one was a letter from the Dawson Chamber of Commerce.

He tore it open and read it; it was written by Yale. The letter wasn't long. First, he complained about how busy things were at the chamber, then mentioned that he had recently acquired a batch of rare magical materials and asked if Akes needed any. Finally, he added a line: "That guy still hasn't come out of the mountains, but he's alive."

Akes finished reading, folded the letter, and placed it in a drawer.

For three years, he and Yale had kept in touch. The frequency wasn't high—one letter every month or two—and the content was always about daily trifles. Sometimes Yale would mention Linley—after all, the Dawson Chamber of Commerce's intelligence network spanned the entire continent, so it wasn't strange for him to know some news.

Akes never pressed for more.

Everyone has their own path to walk.

As the night deepened, Akes stood up and walked to the window. The night in the Imperial Capital was quiet; in the distance, a few dogs barked occasionally, while the nearby streets were completely empty.

He stood there for a moment before turning toward the cultivation room.

It was time for his night practice.

Pushing the door open, the scorching heat once again enveloped his body. Akes took off his outer robe and sat cross-legged on the cushion. The Fallen Heart Flame circulated within his body, and the Five Spirit Wheel turned slowly, absorbing the thin fire elements in the night air.

Another day.

He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into his cultivation.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he suddenly felt a sensation. The magic power within his body seemed to tremble slightly, and its flow accelerated. The Fallen Heart Flame grew restless, its flames leaping more violently.

Akes opened his eyes, a look of surprise on his face.

This is... a breakthrough?

He quickly gathered his focus and operated his technique with all his might. The Fallen Heart Flame frantically tempered his magic power, and the Five Spirit Wheel spun faster, pouring out all the accumulated spiritual energy at once. Magic power surged through his body, washing against that faint, intangible barrier.

Time ticked away bit by bit.

When the sky outside the window began to turn a pale, fish-belly white, Akes let out a long breath.

Level 8, high stage.

He stood up and stretched his limbs. His magic power was full, nearly thirty percent more robust than before. His mental power also felt slightly loosened, as if he were one step closer to Level 9.

Three years of bitter cultivation, and he had finally advanced another step.

Akes pushed open the door to the cultivation room, and the morning sunlight spilled onto him. In the garden, Old Tom was already busy at work; seeing him, he smiled and greeted, "Good morning, My Lord!"

"Morning."

Akes stood where he was, bathing in the sunlight, feeling the brand-new power within his body.