Chapter 68: Blue mote

Panic spread in Ormann’s face. It didn’t make sense. Eren should have lost a lot more Psions than he did.

Eren used a Primal Strike, while Ormann defended with Reinforced hands.

Even with the Primal Strike’s low Psion usage, an ordinary Reinforcement still utilized less Psions. Ormann should have outlasted him.

But the exact opposite situation occurred. Eren’s Reinforced fists barely lost their density. It was as if every Primal Strike only served to make his Reinforcement stronger.

It defied the known laws of Psions. Both of them were engulfed in darkness. Neither should have been able to replenish their Psions.

Ormann’s Reinforcement finally broke, knocking his arms away from his face. The fiery chains shattered. Only motes of red fading red light remained, illuminating the fear in his eyes.

Eren delivered another Primal Strike. This time, pouring more Ræzoň into his fist as it struck Ormann directly in the face.

It knocked Ormann outwards, sending him hurtling across the island. His body scraped the floor, but it wasn’t enough to stop his momentum from falling off its edge.

Ormann caught himself with one hand.

He barely hung on. There was no Reinforcement to help him grip the ledge as easily as he did before.

Eren walked towards him.

"Help... help me up. I admit defeat," Ormann said, nose broken, mouth bleeding.

In this darkness, Ormann couldn’t see Eren’s face. He could only hear his footsteps and his voice.

"Why should I?"

"Don’t think you’re better than me!" Ormann exploded. Desperation and plea contorted his face into something unrecognizable. "You—you knew I was leading everyone to a trap! You didn’t tell anyone. You let them fall to their deaths!

You’re just the same as me. I... I can help you! The License Exam changes every year, but there are things that remain the same. I can tell you how to navigate through it."

Eren crouched low. Ormann’s hands were shaking. He was struggling to hang on.

"You know, I applaud you. You saw an opportunity and you didn’t hesitate to take it. And in that regard, I agree. We are the same.

But there’s just one difference. I am better than you. That’s why you’ll die. Just the same way as Tristan died."

Ormann turned aghast. Guilt and shock and pain reflected in his eyes. This instant basically confirmed all of Eren’s suspicions about Tristan’s death.

With his theory and investigation proven correct, Eren was satisfied.

He turned around as Ormann lost his grip, sending him falling into the abyss.

The combined sounds of flesh tearing and bone breaking echoed through the chamber. Ormann was dead.

Eren took a deep breath, letting his racing heartbeat calm down.

This was the first time that he had fought with someone using his own cultivation. The feeling of his Primal Strike hitting flesh, breaking bone, was not something he was accustomed with.

He thought it would be a bit more visceral. But in truth, he felt nothing. The Ræzoň that coated his fingers completely numbed his feelings.

Why did cutting the corpse of a Bookwyrm seem more cruel than killing a person?

Eren shook his head. He looked around and observed his surroundings—

A mote of light emerged from the abyss. It was a mystical blue ball that floated like a balloon.

He frowned. This ’glowing’ sphere of energy didn’t emit any kind of light at all. Its surroundings remained in the darkness, seemingly unaffected by the luminance of the blue globule.

It floated up and drifted towards him, as if a nonexistent breeze had pushed it in his direction.

Then, it stopped in front of him.

What is this...

Eren was rarely confused when it came to cultivation. This was the first time he didn’t know what he was looking at.

It must be made out of Ræzoň. But it didn’t act like any kind of power or technique that he knew.

Floating there, buoying in the nonexistent waves of the air, the globe of light seemed to lure him into touching it.

He knew it was possibly dangerous. An anomaly that was only born here on Earth and not on Immoræ due to the difference in environment.

But Eren was an inquisitive person by nature. He was curious to a fault. He was the type of person to put his hand on a pot to test if it was boiling hot or not.

He reached out and touched it with his finger.

It immediately got absorbed into his hands, flowing from the Primary Meridian in his wrists all the way to his Dantian. Then, it spread upwards, to the connection in his eyes and dissipated around his body.

Eren staggered back. He felt something stir at the back of his mind. Like a headache, but a lot more visceral. An itch in his skull that wouldn’t be relieved unless he scratched his own brain.

My Mind Palace.

He closed his eyes and entered his one and only sanctuary. The Immortal Library of Ræzoň stood ever as expansive and extraordinary as before. It enveloped him with serenity.

Floating above all the sacred texts below him, something caught his attention.

In the corner of his eyes, he detected an oddity. An aberration on the Mind Palace he meticulously studied and memorized for a thousand years.

Wedged in between the Apothecary section and the Spire of Cultivation, there was a door.

Made out of grand redwood oak. The symbol of a fox standing atop the high heavens, snickering down at the ground.

Master...

It was Athan’s symbol. The emblem of the Palatine of Wisdom. The icon that represented the sect that protected sacred knowledge of cultivators.

He pushed the door open. It led him to an endless white space. The horizon had no boundary in this expanse.

As soon as he stepped forward, his foot created ripples in the white foreground.

Like a splash of paint spreading across a canvass, a brushstroke turned the ground into smooth limestone flooring. Beyond him, spires of stalagmites grew from the ground like trees.