After finishing his physique assessment, Kaito wiped the sweat from his brow and returned to his private quarters. The stench from earlier still lingered faintly in the air, but his mood was anything but sour.
He had just broken through.
He was no longer a mere student dabbling in martial forms—he was now a true Rank 1 martial artist, and that meant something.
He opened his wardrobe to change into fresh clothes, but before he could reach for a shirt, a soft chime echoed from the sleek holo-panel embedded on his wall.
The interface shimmered to life, revealing Kia's familiar holographic projection—elegant, efficient, and always composed.
"Congratulations, young master," Kia's voice rang with subtle warmth. "You've officially stepped into the ranks of martial artists. Your physical readings have updated successfully. I've logged your current strength, reaction time, and physique index into your private training profile."
Kaito smiled faintly, buttoning up his shirt as he listened.
Kia's expression shifted slightly. "Also… regarding the task you had assigned to me earlier—monitoring the spiritual index of Earth—I have an update."
Kaito paused mid-motion.
Kia continued, "As per your instructions, I've been performing hourly scans using the global spiritual fluctuation monitors calibrated through the Federation's low-orbit satellites. The data confirms your hypothesis. Just as you predicted, the spiritual index began to rise steadily exactly one week after the excavation of the library ruins."
Kaito's hand trembled slightly.
He hadn't expected it to happen so soon.
In his previous life, the ancient library ruins were discovered nearly two years later—an event that catalyzed the revival of Earth's spiritual flow. But now, he had pulled that timeline forward, setting everything into motion much earlier.
"...So the butterfly effect has already begun," he murmured under his breath.
He had only asked Kia to monitor the readings as a precaution—just to confirm whether his interference in the timeline would alter the world's flow of energy. But seeing it happen in real time? That was another story entirely.
Kaito stood in silence after Kia's report, staring blankly at the interface that had just faded. His thoughts churned.
"It's begun… just like before."
In his past life, exactly one month after the Library Runes were excavated, the first signs of awakening had emerged—the appearance of the Minor Ruins. But they hadn't come alone.
They brought with them humanity's greatest threat.
The rise in spiritual energy wasn't a blessing only for mankind.
Sure, humans began to advance—cultivators improved their bodies faster, and herbal farms flourished as spirit herbs matured at accelerated rates. Fields that once yielded basic medicinal plants now pulsed with faint spiritual light, increasing in both potency and growth rate.
But the real problem wasn't just about progress—it was balance.
Humans had proper training systems, techniques, training regimens. Even with increased resources, their cultivation remained a gradual, methodical process. One couldn't just sit and absorb spiritual energy endlessly—at least not without risking collapse or backlash.
But the same didn't apply to monsters.
Beasts had no need for refined techniques or careful energy flow control. Their bodies were built to consume, transform, and grow. With just instinct and raw force, they could devour spiritual energy directly—or even feast on wild herbs growing unchecked across abandoned fields and forests.
What once had been conservation zones, areas meant to protect endangered magical beasts or maintain ecological balance, would soon become breeding grounds for catastrophe.
Even the high-level monsters—those ancient creatures carefully monitored and confined by the Earth Federation—would soon awaken. In Kaito's past life, they had remained mostly dormant, watched over by the Federation's elite units and bound by tenuous agreements.
"Stay in your territory, don't hunt humans, and you'll be left alone."
That was the pact the Federation had made with these monsters. They kept their distance, and in return, the Federation did the same. It worked—for a while. So long as spiritual energy was scarce and their strength remained stable.
But with the influx of spiritual energy, everything would change.
And the worst part?
One of the greatest strengths of the monster race had always been their sheer numbers. While humanity relied on cultivation techniques, martial training, and gradual growth, many low-tier monster species could reproduce rapidly—in days or weeks, not years. These rapidly multiplying beasts became natural cannon fodder, strategically used by high-tier monsters during city assaults. It wasn't the strength of a single monster that overwhelmed human cities—it was the endless waves of them, swarming like tides under the direction of their more intelligent and evolved leaders.
The Earth Federation had faced this exact problem centuries ago. Back then also, they had launched countless suppression campaigns, killing off hordes of monsters and confining the remaining high-tier species to regulated conservation zones. After decades of stalemates and costly battles, the historic non-aggression pact was signed between the Federation and the intelligent high ranking monsters, under which the beasts would remain in their domains and avoid human settlements. The Federation, in turn, eased their surveillance, believing the monsters could no longer pose a real threat.
But all of that changed once the spiritual energy began rising again. The monsters were the first to sense it. The moment they realized the density of spiritual force was climbing steadily—perhaps endlessly—they recognized that a new age of evolution had begun. One where their kind could finally break free of human suppression.
Worse still, several Rank 6 peak monsters used this surge to instantly break through to Rank 7, becoming near-unstoppable forces. Though a few human martial artists also reached Rank 7 within the following week, it was too late. When the monster tide began, even when high-ranking warriors were sent to defend the border cities, they were dragged into drawn-out clashes with the newly advanced monsters—unable to protect the civilians, much less repel the invasion. The balance of power, once held tightly in the Federation's grasp, was now trembling on the edge of collapse.
Kaito's expression darkened further as his memories surfaced.
Three cities... lost in a single week.
In his previous life, the monster onslaught had struck so suddenly that even the Earth Federation—armed with satellites, energy sensors, and a global surveillance network—was caught completely off guard. By the time they reacted, three major border cities had already fallen. These cities—once vibrant hubs of trade and cultivation—were located along the outer perimeter of the Federation's designated conservation zones. They had been assigned to monitor and safeguard the high-tier monsters within. But no one expected those zones to become launch pads for destruction.
The cities didn't just fall. They were erased—overrun by mutated beasts whose strength had surged overnight due to the sudden rise in spiritual energy. Millions of lives were lost in days, not weeks. And worst of all, the Federation never had a chance to mount a proper defense. They had grown too comfortable in the illusion of peace.
The Federation had grown complacent in times of peace, and without the looming threat of war, their martial forces had steadily weakened. They hadn't faced true danger in decades.
And when it came… they were caught completely off guard.
Kaito clenched his fists.*sigh*
"I won't be able to stop it all. I'm still too weak. I can only let them know before in some way."
The reality was clear. As powerful as his reborn self might become, he couldn't protect the entire world. But what he could do… was protect his own.
His family.
His people.
"I have one month. One month to raise our strength… to prepare them… before the world starts to burn again."