A Worthless Cultivator!

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Seraphina asked, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as Magnus continued to gaze at her in astonishment.

Magnus awkwardly smiled and replied, "It's nothing, nothing at all." 

He took the book from Seraphina and focused his attention on its cover. 

The book, titled "The Chronicles of Martial Arts," appeared old and worn.

Intrigued by the title, Magnus eagerly opened the book and began reading intently. 

Seraphina initially thought he was just putting on an act, but soon realized he was genuinely absorbed in the book. 

He read with such concentration that he didn't even take a sip of the fine tea placed next to him, finishing the entire book in one sitting.

After reading it, Magnus closed the book and exhaled deeply. 

"Are you alright, Lord Astor? Do you need a rest?" Seraphina asked with concern, noticing his reddened eyes.

Magnus shook his head, he felt excited and invigorated after reading "The Chronicles of Martial Arts".

In the Martial World continent, martial arts were held in high esteem. 

People harnessed a mysterious energy, mana, from the environment, strengthening their bodies and unleashing immense power.

The most formidable masters could even move mountains and alter the course of rivers with their abilities.

The ranks were as: Postnatal Level 1-7, Innate Stage, Myster Stage, Earth Stage, Heaven Stage, Golden Core, and Nascent Soul.

Reaching the seventh Postnatal Level allowed one to be recognized as a " Postnatal Warrior," a respected and envied figure capable of extraordinary feats like walking on walls and shattering rocks with bare hands. 

The higher ranks, such as the Innate, Myster, Earth, and Heaven Stages, were even more impressive. 

Masters at these stages were sought after by nations for their immense power and could turn the tide of wars.

Heaven Stage masters were exceedingly rare and revered, their combat prowess could rival that of entire armies.

The elusive Golden Core and Nascent Soul levels, however, were almost mythical, believed to exist only within secretive sects. 

These transcendent beings were said to disdain worldly affairs, akin to deities, with scarce records about them in "The Chronicles of Martial Arts."

"I must also cultivate to become a strong warrior!" he resolved. 

As a prince, he had access to ample resources, ancient texts, and treasures, providing him with an advantageous starting point.

However, a memory surfaced in his mind, taking him back to when he was twelve years old.

...

"Third son of the Peerless King, Magnus Astor – devoid of spiritual roots, unsuitable for martial cultivation."

A collective gasp echoed through the crowd, followed by murmurs of disbelief. 

"Impossible! The Peerless King himself possesses forty-eight spiritual roots, and both of his elder sons are geniuses with forty spiritual roots each. How could his youngest be void of any?"

A high-ranking official lamented, "Alas, despite the Peerless King's illustrious reputation, his youngest is such a disappointment." 

Another quickly hushed him, reminding him of the dangers of speaking so freely about the young lord.

Magnus felt each whispered word and scornful glance. "How can this be? How can I, the heir of the Astor family, be devoid of any talent?"

Despite his disbelief, the results of the Platform of Ascension were infallible. Magnus was forced to accept this harsh truth about himself.

The stinging gaze and mocking whispers of the officials and peers below the Platform. 

"If fate has deemed me worthless, then I shall live my life unrestrained, free from the judgment of others. Let them mock me; they cannot touch me," he thought bitterly.

With a dismissive wave of his sleeve, Magnus descended from the platform, his eyes brimming with pride and disdain for the onlookers. 

...

Back.

Magnus's face was a picture of despair, dark and brooding. His countenance was so grim.

"Lord Astor, what's wrong? Why do you look so troubled?" Seraphina noticed the drastic change.

Silent.

"Lord Astor, please, you're frightening me," Seraphina's voice trembled with fear. "Are you feeling unwell? Shall I call for the physician?"

Suddenly, Magnus raised his head, his eyes red with unshed tears, fixing Seraphina with an intense gaze that shook her to the core.

"Lord Astor…" she stammered.

"Seraphina, does the mansion have any Martial formula?" Magnus's voice was hoarse with emotion.

Her surprise evident, Seraphina replied, "Lord Astor, you know that you cannot cultivate…"

"So you too think I'm a worthless cultivator?"

Seraphina hastened to reassure him, "No, Lord Astor, I didn't mean that. Please don't misunderstand!"

"Never mind, I just want to try…" Magnus managed a bitter smile.

"Very well, I'll fetch the books right away. Our mansion has quite a few cultivation techniques," Seraphina replied quickly, leaving to gather the materials.

As Magnus sat there, he felt a profound sense of loss and melancholy, emotions that seemed to belong to both his own soul and that of the original Magnus.

...