Chapter 70: Prize

It was the Lindberg’s symbol, once again proving that Ormann’s guesses were correct. He deduced that this Quicksand Burrow was a test created by the Lindbergs to assess a talented examinee.

Which meant, they now knew who he was.

Eren looked up in the darkness. Was there a camera up there in the ceiling? Were they looking at him at this moment? The probability seemed likely.

It was a fortunate turn of events. Serendipitous, one might even say. Becoming recognized by one of the Prominent Families would increase his odds in eventually being chosen for the Expedition.

He wouldn’t mind being recruited.

I’d like to know what Martial Manuals and Ascension Arts are in their hands...

To what extent did the people of Earth learn about cultivation? What did they consider a ’strong’ cultivation scroll? He was very curious to find out.

For now, he turned his attention to his prize. The lootbox.

He untied the ribbon and opened it. Blue light radiated out of the box, illuminating his entire face.

Eren was stunned. He tried not to show it. But his stiff expression gave away how staggered he was looking at the object inside the lootbox.

He stood there, frozen. Heartbeat racing even faster than when he fought in a life or death battle against Ormann.

It looked the same as it did back in Immoræ.

He picked it up carefully and with great care. Heavy could not begin to describe its heft in his hands. It’s as if he held in his hands the collective history of a thousand cultivators. Their ideals, their goals, their regrets... everything.

Even back in Immoræ, Eren did not feel worthy of holding such an artifact. He’d provoke the ire of an entire realm if he handled it incorrectly.

In his hands was a fruit. Its shape, resembling that of a flame.

It had a round bottom base, with flaring wavy spikes rising up as a crown around its stem.

Pure, solid Ræzoň made up most of its surface. It manifested as a deep bloodred color that swirled like liquid smoke inside the fruit. It smelled of ambition and determination and pure drive.

He looked up at the ceiling. Stared directly at the mysterious entities surely watching him from above. His proctors. His overseers.

Then, he took a bite out of the fruit.

It dissolved into motes of red particulate matter. His body absorbed the Ræzoň like rain in a desert.

He felt his Dantian getting replenished at a commensurate rate. They condensed into liquid drops that accumulated into a pond, filling the lost Ræzoň he expended during the fight.

This must be what Awakeners used this fruit for. A one-time full replenishment of Ræzoň. What a tremendous waste.

But Eren knew this as something far more valuable than they thought it was.

Otherwise, they wouldn’t have given away such a treasure so easily.

According to Ormann, lootboxes were meant to be a gift that gave only a slight edge of advantage to the examinee. A juicy steak. A refreshing drink. Any kind of food that would stave off exhaustion and tiredness.

This fruit did more than that. They just didn’t know it.

He sat down immediately and entered a meditative state. The Dantian became his one and only focus. His mind’s eye saw the swirling red liquid Ræzoň inside his core.

Mixed within was a different substance.

An essence. A law. A cornerstone of reality.

It looked like twinkling yellow stars reflecting in his Dantian’s pond.

Those ignorant of this substance would not even know it existed inside their bodies. They’d use their Ræzoň like normal and find that their technique exhibited greater strength than usual.

The effects would be marginal. They’d chalk it up to an inconsequential oddity.

But that was because this substance was not meant for external use. It was meant to be used internally.

Eren willed the liquid Ræzoň in his Dantian to flow through his ’pathways’. Towards the forking roads leading to his eyes. Towards the highway leading to the Primary Meridian in his wrists.

He cycled it multiple times. Patience was a virtue here. He needed to let that substance slowly absorb into his pathways, and especially his meridians—open or not.

Sweat dripped from his forehead. His complexion turned redder as he continued his circulation.

Heat permeated his body.

Not like the heat from his instinct for pain. But real, palpable hotness. It felt like his blood was boiling. Fire, coursing through his veins.

After all, that’s what was happening inside him.

Fire burned his Ræzoň pathways. Sanctifying it. Baptizing it. Until finally, flames ignited atop the pool in his Dantian.

Eren was at the limits of his psyche. His mind burned alongside his pool of Ræzoň.

Slowly, he felt his consciousness slipping away. But he succeeded in integrating the substance into his body.

He had gained an aspect of the [Primordial Fire]. A piece of it, anyway.

That fruit was called the Quintessence. A product created from Cosmic Trees of the nine realms in Immoræ. They contained fragments of power that those realms controlled in the universe.

The Quintessence he ate was from the Realm of Perdition. Their [Primordial Fire] empowered the celestial bodies in the skies. Part of its ember ignited the spark that created life itself.

Eren now gained an aspect of that power for himself.

It was another dream of his that was starting to get fulfilled. But he couldn’t find it in himself to smile.

Why is it here...

Awakeners had the Quintessence. They had the treasure that the entirety of the Realm of Perdition spent their entire history protecting.

They wouldn’t have let it fall into the hands of the unworthy.

They wouldn’t have let it be used as a way to replenish Ræzoň.

Heishtå. Cursing could not fully express the turmoil inside him. They’re gone. It’s gone. The Realm of Perdition was no more. It was destroyed, leaving its Quintessence Fruits lying around for humans to find.

A single tear drop streaked across his face as he collapsed to the ground, exhausted and weary.