Chapter 3 — Elder of the Outer Sect
The morning sun rose gently over the Caelus Spirit Sect, casting long shadows across the outer mountains and sparkling streams. The Outer Sect, quieter and more secluded than its Inner counterpart, began to stir with the low hum of daily activity. Disciples prepared for meditation, training, and the mundane routines that formed the rhythm of their lives. Among them, Jihan Mobarok stood in serene silence, his eyes fixed on the distant peaks, a calm smile playing across his lips.
The century had passed. The system within him had awakened and doubled his cultivation, elevating him to the 2nd Stage Foundation Building. The surge of power still hummed softly through his veins, resonating through every fiber of his being. His perception of the world had sharpened, his control over qi had deepened, and his awareness of the energies around him reached heights few could imagine. Yet despite all this, he walked among the disciples as though nothing had changed.
When the sect elders formally gathered to acknowledge new appointments, Jihan approached with measured steps. Master Liang, who had watched him grow for decades, nodded approvingly. The hall was filled with Outer Sect disciples, some curious, some skeptical, all unaware of the true magnitude of Jihan's cultivation.
"I have completed my first century of cultivation," Jihan said softly, bowing deeply. "By the sect's tradition, I humbly accept the position of elder. My current cultivation is 1st Stage Foundation Building."
A ripple of murmurs passed through the crowd. Some nodded with respect, others whispered quietly. No one guessed the truth—that beneath the surface, Jihan's power had already surpassed what most elders could achieve in a lifetime. He had chosen to conceal it, knowing well the dangers of revealing strength too early. Jealousy, suspicion, or even assassination could befall one who flaunted such advancement.
After the ceremony, Jihan returned to the Outer Sect's quieter paths. The disciples and junior elders greeted him with respect, though few dared approach too closely. To them, he was a powerful elder, composed and steady—a teacher and overseer. In truth, he was far more than they could comprehend.
In the solitude of the cliffs overlooking the sect, Jihan let his mind roam freely. He could feel the energies of the mountains, the rivers, the forests surrounding the sect. Every living thing's qi was perceptible to him now. With a thought, he subtly suppressed the aura of his 2nd Stage cultivation, letting the world perceive only what he had claimed. The ease of this concealment reminded him of how advantage could be drawn from patience and subtlety rather than brute display.
Life in the Outer Sect suited him. He oversaw missions, guided younger disciples, and handled disputes with quiet authority. He rarely had to demonstrate his power, and when he did, it was in ways that seemed restrained, unassuming, and just enough to maintain respect. The younger disciples often tried to test their limits against him, imagining that they could challenge the elder. Jihan permitted them, observing their techniques, guiding their movements subtly. A flick of energy redirected a misstep, a slight adjustment prevented injury, and the lesson was learned without fanfare or obvious display of his true strength.
The Outer Sect provided a perfect environment for his cultivation. Freed from the politics and ambition of the Inner Sect, he could focus on refinement, on quiet growth. Each day, he meditated longer, experimented with advanced methods of qi manipulation, and trained his body to withstand forces far beyond what ordinary Foundation Building cultivators could endure. The system's doubling effect was a secret instrument, quietly compounding his power for centuries to come.
Jihan watched the young disciples with a mixture of amusement and patience. They were ambitious, eager to prove themselves, yet their eyes failed to perceive the subtle currents of power around them. Their efforts were vigorous but naive. If they knew the truth of his cultivation, envy and fear would follow—but Jihan had no intention of revealing it. There was no need. The Outer Sect was his stage, and the centuries ahead were his canvas.
As night fell, the Outer Sect was bathed in silver moonlight. Jihan seated himself atop a cliff, the wind brushing across his face, carrying the scent of pine and distant rivers. He closed his eyes, feeling the pulse of his cultivation, the flow of energy through the mountains, the faint stirrings of the sect below. In the stillness, he allowed himself a small, rare smile. The first century had ended. A new chapter had begun—not as a prodigy, nor a celebrated hero, but as a quiet, calculating, patient cultivator, whose strength would grow silently and immeasurably over the next hundred years.
The disciples below went about their routines, oblivious to the fact that one among them now held power far beyond what their minds could conceive. Jihan had chosen to conceal his true cultivation, to walk among them as an ordinary elder, but in the depths of his meditation, he prepared for what the future would demand.
He had mastered patience, control, and secrecy. The doubling system pulsed faintly in his mind, a constant reminder that time was his ally. Each century would see him rise further, but for now, he would remain unseen, a quiet force in the Outer Sect, building strength without drawing attention.
The wind whispered through the pines, carrying with it the promise of centuries yet to come. Jihan Mobarok opened his eyes, calm, serene, and ready. The world believed he was a 1st Stage Foundation Building cultivator. The truth, however, was far greater—and those who underestimated him would learn, eventually, that true power is silent, patient, and unstoppable.
The night deepened, and Jihan remained seated on the cliff, meditating under the stars. He was no longer just a disciple. He was an elder, a strategist, and a cultivator whose true strength lay hidden, awaiting the centuries that would come. And with every passing moment, the system quietly worked, preparing him for a future where he would be untouchable, unseen, and far beyond the reach of those who dared measure him by appearances alone.