⚔️ Chapter 19 The Veins of Power
Morning mist rolled over the academy's valley, curling like white smoke between mountains that shimmered with faint runic light. The world felt quiet — too quiet.
Rian stood shirtless in the training hall, palms pressed against the cold marble floor. The Moonlit Seed in his chest pulsed faintly with silver light, its glow spreading into thin blue veins that crawled across his arms.
For the first time, he could feel them.
Not the dream echoes, not visions — but real, living energy humming under his skin.
"Essence… it's finally flowing," he whispered.
The faint voice of Kelvar echoed from yesterday:
> "Your aura isn't rising — it's sinking. You're folding energy inward."
That was the truth.
Rian wasn't growing like other cultivators — he was condensing. Every breath drew the world tighter into him.
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🔥 The Awakening Practice
He steadied his breathing.
The ancient posture — the one his body somehow remembered — began on its own. His right hand pressed down, his left lifted toward the light, forming a triangle with his body.
Then it began.
Boom.
The ground trembled faintly as a spiral of wind formed around him.
Rian's heartbeat synced with the rhythm of the world. The energy veins under his skin shone brighter — silver and blue intertwined, forming symbols older than language.
A whisper rose in his mind — not from dreams, but from the Seed itself.
> "Three paths are open. Mind, Flesh, and Soul. Choose one, or drown in all."
Rian clenched his fists. "I'll walk all three."
The wind roared.
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🌌 The Forbidden Library
Hours later, drenched in sweat, Rian found himself standing before the old library hidden beneath the academy. He'd never seen it open before — yet today, the gate was cracked, as though waiting for him.
He stepped inside.
Dust floated in the thin golden light that filtered from above. The air smelled of old scrolls and forgotten time.
Rows upon rows of ancient tomes lined the walls. Each hummed with faint energy — not words, but whispers.
Then, at the center, he saw it — an empty pedestal.
On it, faint marks glowed: "The Pathless Record."
His heart skipped.
He'd heard Kelvar speak of this — a myth, a scroll written by a cultivator who defied all systems, who walked without path or sect.
As he touched the pedestal, silver sparks burst around him.
> "Only those who see their past and live their present may inherit the nameless way."
His body trembled. The Moonlit Seed pulsed violently — flashes of his past self filled his head again.
He saw a great war.
A white-haired man — himself — standing above shattered planets, holding the glowing sigil of Kirigilian.
Voices cried his name:
> "Rian! Guardian of the Stars!"
"He who defied the Garnarian Empire!"
Then, it faded.
He collapsed, gasping.
"Was that… me?"
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🌙 The Realization
As he knelt, the Seed calmed, its light turning faintly golden for the first time. He looked at his hands — the silver veins were still there, but now pulsing with purpose.
He finally understood.
His dreams weren't visions.
They were memory transmissions — sealed fragments of a life that once changed the course of galaxies.
He wasn't becoming strong.
He was remembering strength.
He rose slowly. His aura stretched outward — calm, balanced, yet heavy enough to bend the dust motes in the air.
At the top of the stairs, a shadow watched him — Lyra, silent, trembling.
> "Rian…" she whispered. "Your eyes… they're not silver anymore. They're burning gold."
He turned. "Then maybe… I'm starting to remember what I am."
To be continued