I Can Only Cultivate In A Game-Chapter 68: The Dream

Victor dragged the massive five-foot-long sword behind him as he approached one of the officials overseeing the screening.

He cleared his throat before lifting the sword slightly.

"Uhm… so about the sword... can I keep it?"

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The official raised a brow and stared at him as if he had just spoken absolute nonsense.

Several other government officials turned toward them, eyeing the sword curiously. It was still glowing with mana, giving off a faint, ancient presence.

The official sighed and collected the sword from Victor's grasp. "Awakeners won't be granted weapons until they officially resume at the academy."

Victor frowned slightly. "Oh come on... not even an exception for the winner—"

Victor's shamelessness seemed to be slowly returning.

Another official with graying hair, adjusted his glasses and studied the ancient inscriptions on the blade.

"This sword..." he murmured. "Is priceless."

Victor blinked. "Huh?"

The official exhaled slowly, before turning to Victor with a look of deep reverence.

"Do you even know what you pulled out of that castle?"

Victor shrugged. "A sword?"

The older official shook his head. "Not just any sword. This belonged to the strongest Warrior in human history—General Darius Stormrend."

A wave of hushed whispers spread among the government officials nearby.

Victor squinted. "Never heard of him."

The older man gave him a look that could have turned someone to stone.

"He saved millions of human lives singlehandedly during the Great Invasion over two decades ago."

Victor finally recognized the name.

Darius Stormrend.

The legendary warrior who was said to have led an entire army of one. Apparently, he was one of the first generation of awakeners nearly forty years ago.

His exploits were absurd, almost inhuman. The records stated that when a city had fallen, and all hope was lost, he charged into enemy lines alone, cutting through thousands without stopping.

People worshiped him.

Victor looked down at the sword that was now being handled carefully by the officials.

"Wait—if he was that strong… how did he die?"

The official's face darkened slightly. "That remains unknown. His body was never recovered. But this sword… is proof that he truly existed."

Victor whistled. "So… can I still keep it?"

The official smirked. "If you want it, you will have to contend for it in the Academy."

Victor groaned. "Figures."

---

Victor arrived home later that night, exhausted beyond belief.

The moment he stepped inside, his mother greeted him with open arms.

"Welcome home, Victor."

Victor hugged her lightly before slumping onto the couch.

"How was it?" she questioned while sitting beside him.

Victor let out a deep sigh before responding.

"It went well. I got B-rank."

His mother smiled. "I'm proud of you."

Victor forced a smile, but deep down, there was still one thing bothering at him.

His mother's pregnancy.

Three weeks.

That's how long he had before he had to leave for the Academy.

And yet, he still didn't know how to prepare for his absence.

She would be alone.

Victor leaned forward while rubbing his temples.

"Mom…" he started with a tone of uncertainty. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

She smiled before placing a hand over his. "Victor. I've been taking care of myself long before you were born."

Victor rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but… it's different now. You're pregnant. I should be here to help."

She shook her head. "We'll figure something out. But I don't want you to hold yourself back because of me. Your father would have wanted you to go."

Victor's expression darkened slightly at the mention of his father.

His mother's grip tightened around his hand.

"Victor."

He looked up, meeting her gentle yet firm gaze.

"I know you feel guilty. I know you blame yourself. But you are not responsible for what happened. And you shouldn't let your future be decided by the past."

Victor felt something lodge in his throat.

He nodded without saying a word.

His mother smiled again. "Go get some rest. You've earned it."

Victor didn't argue.

He was physically and mentally drained.

---

That night, Victor slept deeply for the first time in weeks.

But his mind… wasn't empty.

Instead, he found himself standing in a vast mythical realm.

This familair environment had floating stone platforms and an endless horizon of swirling mist. The engraved patterns on the ground pulsed with ancient energy.

It suddenly clicked when he realized that this place looked exactly like Lingyun's realm.

"A dream?"

That was Victor's first thought.

After all, he hadn't logged into Ascendant Realms.

He had left his VR headset untouched since the day his father died.

And yet, here he was… standing in the familiar ancient martial world of Lingyun.

Victor tried to move, but his body wouldn't respond.

He tried to speak, but no words left his mouth.

He was completely paralyzed.

All he could do… was watch.

Before him, Lingyun stood.

The Martial Grandmaster was the one who had taught him the Lingyun Sword Arts that had helped him in past battles.

He was demonstrating a new technique.

Victor's eyes widened as he watched.

It wasn't just a single attack.

It was a fluid combination of movements and strikes tied together. A combination of speed fluidity and power into a deadly sequence.

The way Lingyun moved… was flawless.

Each step, turn, and slash flowed like water.

Victor wanted to replicate every detail, but his body refused to cooperate.

He was merely an observer.

And yet… deep down…

Something felt different.

This didn't feel like it was just a dream.

This was something else.

As Lingyun finished the demonstration, he turned toward Victor. His gaze was incredibly piercing like a bunch of needles prickling Victor's skin.

"WAKE UP!"

Victor suddenly gasped awake.

His body was covered in sweat and his heart was racing.

The moment he sat up, he felt something strange.

His body…

It felt lighter...

Not just in a well-rested way, but as if something inside him had fundamentally changed overnight.

His limbs felt sharper and more coordinated.

Every inch of his body buzzed with a strange sense of fluidity, as though he had been secretly training for months without realizing it.

And he could vividly recall the movements from the dream.