Reaching the E-Grade

Prince reached the peak of the mountain, surprised at what he saw.

The Nexus Crystal had been replaced by a sprawling three-story mansion, with ornately carved spirit steel and smooth wood. Prince could still feel the Nexus Crystal- he was the Faction Leader, after all.

It was under the house. It seemed as if they could move it without damaging anything. 

Prince opened the two double doors. The house seemed finished to him.

His head looked around, already mapping the house. Strangely enough, it made him feel… Normal again, finally getting to stay in a house. 

Prince began to walk, carrying the Information Package with him toward where he sensed a light aura from.

He went down to the basement, and immediately he smirked.

"Olivia, you lifesaver," He grinned.

Around him, there was a whole gym built with spirit steel. Floating targets stayed near the wall, while numerous different workouts were strewn about.

A metallic mannequin stood, stationary, in one corner. 

Prince walked toward it. It was pitch black, with no discernable features. He scanned it.

Spirit Steel Training Robot (E-Grade)

An E-Grade Training Robot with a Darksteel core. Hit for a response. The harder you hit, the more aggressively the training robot responds. This high-quality robot can even fight peak E-Grades.

"Hmm." Prince crossed his arms. How much did this cost? And where did Olivia even get the damn money from?

Prince decided to try it out. He casually punched it.

The robot shivered before he landed the attack, but it didn't feel any need to counter, his fist just landed on it.

"Huh," Prince grinned. "Okay." He pulled his fist back.

Prince threw a punch as hard as he can, his fist blurring. 

It landed on the side of the robot's cheek. 

A punch hit Prince so hard he was sent twirling through the air, his face only held together by his endurance. He crashed into the smooth ground, his cheek stinging from the pain.

Was his jaw broken?

The robot had already resumed its default position.

"Alright, then." Prince rubbed his cheek. He hadn't been able to even react. "I name you… Sebastian." 

The robot didn't acknowledge him.

It seemed it was just a regular combat robot and not an assistant or whatever.

Prince ignored Sebastian and then looked at a mat that was in the middle of the room. It seemed like a regular mat, but radiated a faint aura.

He scanned it.

Meditation Mat (E-Grade)

A mat for meditation. Absorbs ambient Dao. Useful for any type of cultivation.

Prince nodded at it. Then he got his information package and opened it. 

The information package didn't give him a bunch of papers or whatnot. It just directly shot random information about the current state of Earth or certain things into his brain.

He received a lot of information, but his mind focused on what he needed the most right now: the method to break through to E-Grade.

Prince sat in the lotus position on the meditation Mat. Immediately he felt all other thoughts cease, the background noise vanishing.

He felt one thing and one thing alone. 

The Dao.

It floated through the air, like a breeze. It was in everything, everything was the Dao. Even he, Prince, was just one of its many manifestations.

Prince finally felt himself draw close to his Dao of Martial Arts.

So he'd comprehended. That was all well and good, but what now? He needed to figure out his martial arts. 

What was his? Did it involve discipline, sturdiness, reliability? Was it aggressive, wild, maniacal? Or perhaps calm, flowing, neverending?

Though close, his style was one thing: explosive. 

He opened his eyes within his soul once more. Before him, a blue orb with an open palm sat in wait. The aura was overbearing, almost crushing. 

This was the Dao of Martial Arts.

Prince wasn't sure how big it was. Perhaps it was as wide as the sun and it was infinitely far away from him. Or perhaps it was the size of a hill but right in front of him.

This overwhelming thing was like the Dao of Martial Arts he had glimpsed when comprehending the Dao, only infinitely lesser. This was his.

Every muscle, every tendon, sculpted and tense. This was a palm ready for battle, open in challenge. Prince found himself standing right before it. This was his soul, after all.

The world fell away. It was only him and martial arts.

Prince began to inspect every nook and cranny of the palm, eager to comprehend it all. It waited, radiating calm power. 

Suddenly a wave of aura entered his body. The Dao of Martial Arts was assimilating with him. 

But with it, it took parts of Prince. Washed away bits of him until he didn't know what was missing.

That's not right. He thought.

Prince tried to push it back, but it was like attempting to stop a river with one's bare hands. Futile. Idiotic.

Prince began to panic. He blinked. 

Then his eyes opened as he saw what he had to do. 

The blue aura was made up of exactly nine hundred and ninety nine tiny drops— he was sure of this, for some reason—and each drop carried a riddle. If he beat the riddle, the drop would submit. If he didnt, the speck would drop him to the death.

Visions filled his mind. He was thrust into a gladiator's fight, a school room, a back-alley brawl, a knife fight, a gunfight, the trenches of a war, shouting arguments against all sorts of people. Each vision came at once, and all asked him the same question: What would you do? How would you feel?

However, it wasn't as tangible as that. The visions all occurred inside his soul simultaneously. Prince didn't really find himself in those situations; instead, they were forced into his soul, and then the answer flowed out by itself, uninhibited. Everything coalesced into a phantom deep inside him which slowly took the form of a palm borne of his very soul.

Unfortunately, he was just a watcher. This battle of visions didn't seem his, but he knew it was. Maybe not now, but to answer the riddles, his soul just used everything he'd fed it over his entire life. He had shaped himself; that was his part in the battle, and it was over. Now, all he could do was watch and hope.

Only now did he understand he was breaking through to the E-Grade. He was confused and worried, but the ball was rolling. He buckled down and prepared for a fight.

Hope turned to despair. The phantom was still vague, but he could see it wasn't exactly like the giant palm before. There were differences, malformations. The shape wasn't quite right. The palm in his soul wasn't as clear as it should have been. Slowly but surely, it was drifting into a travesty of a palm, and he was powerless to stop it.

Prince felt panic once more.

Then he remembered. His mind calmed. The golden runes on his soul flashed to life.

It was like a meditation in a meditation. A trance in a trance. Every complex thought dissolved into simple parts, and all that was difficult became easy.

Prince felt like laughing. Why had he even struggled?

A watcher? Your mother's a watcher!

He dove into his soul, brimming with confidence. The Dao of Martial Arts was strewn wide before him. He now floated between dozens of visions, each resolving at the same time, but he knew the truth.

The visions were illusions. Only one thing was real—the palm, and as long as he kept the palm in his soul unpolluted, he would always prevail.

The visions unraveled easily. They were foundational questions, nothing more than child's play. Prince realized that his compatibility with the palm was perfect. From his toes to the deepest recesses of his soul, he was willing to embrace the path of martial arts until the very end.

After that, the visions were simple. All he had to do was project his soul—martial arts—and they would have their answer.

They melted like snow in the oven. The blue aura vanished as it entered his body, gathering obediently in his soul and becoming one with him. The shape of a palm became clearer and clearer in the very core of his being, and the deformities were lessening.

Prince was disgusted by them. He grabbed the phantom and twisted it into shape, using his strength to force it to obey. He ironed it out. A palm formed inside him, and the giant palm outside wasn't giant anymore. It was shrinking as he took its aura, from a hill, to a tree, to a boulder. Finally, it reached the size of his own palm, and he realized they were indistinguishable.

The Dao asked him one question: Will you give me everything?

Yes, Prince replied. But you will serve me.

It was the right answer.

His soul hugged the phantom of a palm inside it and they became one. The Dao coursed through his body, empowering and transforming it. It was only a tiny part of the true Dao of Martial Arts and all its transformations, but it was a part that Prince had thoroughly conquered. It belonged to him.

His turmoil was over. His soul and the Dao Node of Martial Arts had fused perfectly, becoming one thing: the Dao Fragment of Martial Arts.

Or, at least, so Prince hoped.

Prince found himself before a giant palm once more. But this palm was his. Red flecks of aura radiated off of it, the Dao of Martial Arts—but bent to his will. Subservient to him.

He felt perfect. Whole. For the first time in his life, even more than when the Apocalypse happened, he was sure that he was exactly where he belonged. This was his world.

Prince roared in laughter, venting all the pent-up frustration of his life, and punched out. 

The void cracked and shattered like glass.