Postnatal Level One!

Magnus observed the maids' reactions and, after a brief moment of contemplation, understood the reason behind their shock. He then adopted a feigned displeasure in his tone and coldly said,

"Do you two have any objections to my orders? Would you prefer I sell you off to the pleasure houses to entertain those debauchees?"

"Ah..."

Upon hearing this, the maids gasped in unison, reminded of their place before Lord Astor. They dared not linger any longer, quickly nodding and bowing before cautiously making their exit. The moment they closed the door behind them, they practically sprinted out of the courtyard as if competing in a hundred-meter dash.

With the maids gone, Magnus turned his attention back to the desk in his room made of golden phoebe nanmu and iron pearwood. He gently caressed its surface, feeling its cool, solid texture. Drawing closer, he inhaled its subtle fragrance, finding it remarkably refreshing.

"Truly fine wood, probably more valuable than gold!" Magnus mused, appreciating the desk's craftsmanship. Despite his vast wealth now, Magnus, who came from a modest background in his previous life, couldn't help but feel a commoner's awe towards such exquisite items.

"Hmm...!"

His hand, roaming the desk's surface, suddenly encountered a depression. Under normal circumstances, such a flaw wouldn't be alarming, but it seemed out of place on this valuable gift from the state of Luban, raising questions about how such an apparent defect could exist.

Curious, Magnus looked closer at the indented spot his hand had found. From his standing position, the depression was not visible, so he leaned down, tilting his head to get a better view of the tabletop.

"Hmm... this...!"

Just one glance was all it took for Magnus to freeze on the spot, as if struck by lightning, completely stunned by what he saw.

After a long pause, Magnus's eyes finally moved again, and he exclaimed in surprise, "Did I... did I do this?"

He leaned closer to the desk again, extending his hand to gently touch the surface of the golden phoebe nanmu and iron pearwood.

There, perfectly matching the size of Magnus's palm, was an imprint indented into the desk's surface.

"Hisss..."

Staring at the palm print, Magnus was once again struck dumb, spending several minutes examining and tracing the contours of the impression with his fingers.

Eventually, Magnus had to accept that the palm print on the desk was indeed made by his own hand!

A complex mix of emotions surged within him - a blend of suppressed excitement, apprehension, and even a sense of dreamy bewilderment.

"Could it be... Could it be that I've truly absorbed mana, becoming a martial artist?" Magnus wondered, looking at his palm, pondering cautiously.

The maid had made it clear; this desk wasn't made of ordinary wood but of the hardest golden phoebe nanmu and iron pearwood from Luban, as tough as steel, perhaps even tougher due to its flexibility.

To leave even a barely visible imprint on such a hard material would require strength beyond that of an ordinary person. How could he have achieved it?

Unless he had indeed become a martial artist!

Magnus recalled the golden orb that had appeared in his dantian, sprouting a vine that stretched from his core to the crown of his head, allowing him to draw mana from the surroundings. What was this phenomenon?

A thought stirred in Magnus's mind, and suddenly, an image of his dantian appeared, revealing the golden vine standing tall at the center of his torso, utterly distinct and eye-catching.

Within the golden vine, blue mist flowed and was tightly sealed by the vine, with only wisps of vapor swirling around, merging into Magnus's body, bringing a refreshing coolness.

Staring at this miraculous scene in his mind, Magnus uttered almost instinctively, "Could this... could this be the legendary spiritual root?"

Upon uttering those words, even Magnus startled himself, realizing the phenomenon closely resembled ancient descriptions of spiritual roots. Such roots, intangible yet linked to the dantian, could absorb mana. Before reaching the Seventh Cloud level, mana would be stored within the spiritual root.

"How... How could I possibly have a spiritual root? I was born with none!" Magnus was utterly astounded as he gazed at the faint golden vine that had sprouted from nowhere.

After a long, stunned silence, Magnus reluctantly admitted to himself that he truly possessed a spiritual root, albeit a single root that might seem laughable to other martial artists.

According to the cultivation texts, being born with a spiritual root was a divine gift, indicating a powerful innate talent. For someone considered to have no spiritual roots, discovering one was akin to a beggar winning a lottery of five million out of the blue – the excitement and euphoria were beyond words. If not for the physical reminder of his humanity, Magnus might have soared into the skies in his exhilaration!

His excited shouts and wild laughter echoed within the room. Had the soundproofing of the young lord's chamber been any less effective, and had the two maids not already fled, others might have wondered if Lord Astor had gone mad.

"Hee-ha... Hee-ha!!"

At that moment, Magnus was practicing the Mystic Mirage Step in his room, his fists flying through the air with audible whooshes.

Becoming a martial artist, even at the First Cloud level with just one spiritual root, Magnus found his physical strength far surpassed his former self. His punches, though untrained and chaotic, carried a force that whistled through the air, demonstrating formidable power.

After about fifteen minutes of vigorous activity, sweat beading on his forehead, Magnus finally paused, his face still flush with unabated excitement.

"Is this what being a martial artist feels like?" he murmured to himself, acutely aware of how his physical condition had improved multiple folds. He felt strong enough to take on ten of his former selves without breaking much of a sweat.

"Just being at the First Postnatal level feels this incredible; how much more powerful must a Seventh Cloud martial artist be, let alone those at the Yellow Cloud or Mysterious Cloud levels..." As this thought crossed his mind, Magnus felt a mix of awe and eager anticipation.

Now, Magnus found himself akin to a child who had just stepped through the gates of cultivation, surrounded by towering peaks while he was merely a pebble on the ground, unremarkable and easily overlooked.

Even so, he couldn't help but feel a secret joy in his heart. After all, he had been someone with no fate in the path of martial arts, and now he had the chance to embark on it and explore a new realm. How could he harbor any complaints?

After his initial excitement subsided, Magnus started to reflect on the cause and effect of this development. The spontaneous growth of a spiritual root within him was clearly not a coincidence.

If it wasn't a coincidence, then there was only one explanation: the Karma Creation Art!

While practicing the Karma Creation Art in his room, a mysterious force had taken over, automating the process and leading to the current situation where a spiritual root had emerged within him.

Though unsure of the rank of the Karma Creation Art compared to the treasured texts of his family or the royal archives, Magnus had never heard of any technique that could spontaneously generate a spiritual root. Even if the Karma Creation Art wasn't a top-tier technique, it certainly wasn't ordinary.

"It seems I must diligently cultivate this technique," Magnus resolved, determined to master this mysterious art, hoping it might bring him further benefits.

With his mind made up, Magnus didn't rush to clean the sweat off his body. Instead, he entered the world within his mind again, this time searching for the jar of Five Poison Wine he had drawn from the Jin Yong martial arts system the night before.

Since the Mystic Mirage Step and the Karma Creation Art were real, the jar of Five Poison Wine must also exist.

Having known about the miraculous properties of the Five Poison Wine from "The Smiling, Proud Wanderer," Magnus acknowledged its potential benefits, despite his aversion to snakes, insects, rats, and other creatures. He wasn't about to let such a wondrous item go to waste.

With a thought, Magnus's consciousness arrived in the dark expanse of his mind's world, where he clearly saw the mud-sealed jar of Five Poison Wine floating in the void, as if suspended in space.

Seeing the Five Poison Wine before him, Magnus felt a slight thrill, followed by a dilemma on how to actually consume it. Could he really drink this wine through sheer willpower, directly into his stomach?