The city remained in a state of controlled chaos following the Void Cavity incident. News feeds continued updating with troubling reports—another wave of Abyssal Spawn had breached containment at the outer perimeter defenses.
Vaelor felt anxiety coil in his chest. He immediately sent a message to his father.
Vaelor: Dad, are you alright? I saw the reports about the breach.
Several tense minutes passed before the response arrived.
Thorne Draeth: I'm fine, son.
Thorne Draeth: Just cleaning up the battlefield with my unit now. Don't worry about your old man.
Border Defense Garrison - Outer Wall Sector
Thorne Draeth lowered his communication device with blood-stained hands that trembled with exhaustion. His arms hung limply at his sides, completely drained.
The bald, heavily scarred man lying beside him—bandaged so thoroughly he resembled a mummy—managed a weak laugh despite his injuries.
"Old Thorne, which secret lover is messaging you now?" The man's voice carried forced humor through obvious pain.
"Shut up, Brick. It's my son."
"Must be nice, having a kid who actually gives a damn whether you live or die."
"You should get yourself one then."
"Nah." Brick's expression turned melancholy. "With our heads hanging by a thread every damn day? I don't want to leave some kid orphaned the moment he's born. Your boy's taking the Martial Aptitude Exam soon, right? Think he'll make it into a Combat University?"
Pride warmed Thorne's voice despite his exhaustion. "My son will definitely succeed. He's far better than I ever was."
Struggling to light a cigarette with shaking hands, Thorne finally managed to get it burning. He looked up at the smoke-stained sky and exhaled slowly, his smile turning bittersweet.
"Damn... survived another day."
Thornhaven City
Vaelor felt some relief at his father's response, but he couldn't bring himself to smile.
His father's message had been deliberately casual, but Vaelor knew the truth. With a beast tide of that magnitude, countless Tier 2 and Tier 3 warriors in the garrison would have sustained serious injuries or worse. How could his father—a mere Tier 1 Warrior—possibly emerge unscathed?
He's definitely hurt. Just hiding it so we don't worry.
Vaelor went to the bathroom, stripped off his shirt, and began practicing the Immortal Titan Foundation.
All he could do now was reach Tier 1 Warrior status as quickly as possible and enter Abyssal Rifts legally!
Without revealing his true talents, hunting Abyssal Spawn and leveling up would let him rise rapidly enough to change his family's circumstances!
Hsssssss!
The bathroom filled with thick steam like a boiling kettle. Through the dense vapor, the young man's body could barely be seen—but his pained groans echoed clearly off the tile walls.
Half an hour later, the delivery arrived.
When Vaelor opened the door, the delivery man visibly recoiled in shock.
The teenager before him looked like a walking skeleton—gaunt cheeks, skin stretched tight over prominent bones, muscles withered to almost nothing. He appeared dangerously malnourished, on the verge of collapse.
Yet his eyes remained unusually clear and focused.
"Are you... okay?" The delivery man couldn't help asking, genuine concern in his voice. "Do you need me to call for medical assistance?"
"No, thank you. I'm fine." Vaelor shook his head, accepted the delivery container from beside the door, and closed it firmly.
"Crazy martial arts cultivation..." the delivery man muttered, shaking his head as he turned away.
But just before leaving, something nagged at him—a sense of wrongness he couldn't quite identify.
Wait. That kid looked so weak a strong breeze could knock him over. So how did he lift a 200-kilogram container of beast meat like it weighed nothing?
Inside, Vaelor tore into the food without ceremony.
As massive quantities of nutrients flooded his system, his depleted reserves replenished rapidly. His sunken cheeks filled out. Muscles reformed beneath smooth, glossy skin. Even his hair regained its lustrous shine, taking on an almost ethereal quality.
After consuming twenty kilograms of high-grade beast meat, Vaelor finally felt satisfied.
He stood and stretched. His bones produced sounds like rolling thunder.
"I'm gradually mastering the first form of the Immortal Titan Foundation. I can maintain it for thirty seconds now."
The initial agony had been nearly unbearable, but after adaptation, the sensation transformed into something almost pleasant—like full-body electrotherapy that left him feeling energized and cleansed.
"A few more training sessions and I should be ready to attempt the second form. My spirit has reached peak condition... time to work on the breathing method."
The human body functioned as an integrated whole.
If Body Forging Methods tempered the physical vessel from inside out, then Breathing Methods refined vitality and absorbed universal energy—achieving harmony between microcosm and macrocosm. The two disciplines complemented each other, facilitating spiritual sublimation.
For Vaelor's current needs, the basic Flowing Stream Breathing Method taught at the academy was completely inadequate. It provided zero meaningful benefits.
Only a breathing method at the same tier as the Immortal Titan Foundation—or higher—could improve his cultivation efficiency.
"Begin."
Vaelor muted his watch and entered deep meditation.
His pupils shifted to rainbow luminescence as Absolute Insight activated.
[Ding! Absolute Insight analyzing Breathing Method principles]
[Flowing Stream Breathing Method proficiency +100]
[Flowing Stream Breathing Method proficiency +100]
[Ding! Flowing Stream Breathing Method advanced to Minor Mastery]
...
[Ding! Flowing Stream Breathing Method advanced to Major Mastery]
...
[Ding! Flowing Stream Breathing Method achieved Perfect Mastery]
...
[Essence of breath cultivation comprehended - initiating original technique creation]
[Custom Breathing Method development: 1%]
...
[Custom Breathing Method development: 2%]
...
[Analysis complete]
[Original creation successful: Chaos Primordial Breathing Method (SSS-Grade)]
Meanwhile, across the city at Crimsonpeak Martial Hall, Kieran Ashford relaxed in her bathtub while a virtual screen projected before her. On the display appeared a strikingly beautiful woman with long crimson hair and an expression of perpetual cold disdain.
"...and that's the situation," Kieran concluded her report.
"A high school student who isn't even Tier 1 yet, dealing over 10,000 damage?" The red-haired woman—clearly the guild leader—touched her chin thoughtfully. "If your assessment is accurate, we absolutely need to recruit him."
Scarlet Ashcroft, President of the Crimson Rose Guild. Tier 5 Warrior, support-class profession.
"Do you know his origin talent and profession classification?"
"Not yet. He was... reluctant to share details."
"Understood. Maintain contact and build rapport. If necessary, offer a preliminary contract before other guilds can poach him." Scarlet's tone brooked no argument.
"Understood."