Everything blurred into background noise; this time, he couldn’t even make out the faces of those making fun of him. He turned and saw a child in a black robe, its wild fluttering in the air despite there being no wind, as everything had gone still. She looked exceptionally beautiful, with snow-white hair and a unique pair of eyes that resembled an abacus. Each bead within, moving at vigorous speeds, calculating every instance.

[You have acknowledged my presence, mortal. As a reward, I shall grant you my divine grace and appoint you my first apostle.]

That soft voice came again.

He didn’t even get to refuse before clutching his head and letting out an agonizing scream. Profound knowledge burrowed its way into his head, granting him mystical knowledge that he was unaware of till now. Ritualistic ceremonies, Sacrificial rituals, whispered secrets, arcane knowledge, cryptic astrological patterns, and countless other esoteric truths came like tidal waves.

The more knowledge he accepted, the more a sense of guilt welled up within him. It almost felt as though he was betraying the world. But that guilt was quickly filled with a sense of fullness. His once fragile body now radiated a divine aura that attracts people; it also held a quality that makes weak-minded individuals suceptible to his whim, within reason, of course.

.

.

.

It took him a long time to digest the knowledge he was fed, and when he did, he knelt down, his head directly pressed to the ground, tears pooling from his once dry eyes.

"Forgive me for failing to recognize your divine holiness," he whispered, each word trembling with awe and humility, his voice thick with reverence in every syllable.

[You bear no fault in this, child. My influence in this world is limited; it is a miracle that you even heard my call. Your acknowledgment only serves to strengthen my influence, albeit slightly.] The divine figure said softly, holding no accusation in her voice.

"Your benevolence knows no bounds, your grace," he replied, eyes wide and shining with a fervent, almost unhinged devotion. The depths of his dark pupils flickered with a hint of madness, reflecting the seismic shift that had taken root in his soul.

The divine figure regarded him with her luminous, inscrutable eyes, her gaze lingering as if appraising a masterpiece she had just completed. A small, enigmatic nod signaled her satisfaction with the mortal who now stood as her carefully sculpted vessel.

[You know what’s next to do, right? Do not make the same mistake as that dog Azzog.] Watching him nod his head fervently, she finally released her power that was straining to keep her influence in the material world.

Slowly, she dissolved into motes of light, disappearing into the void from whence she came.

He slowly stood up, his once hunched back now straightened like a rope caught tight, before bowing 90 degrees towards the direction she once stood. "I shall make the finest preparations for your divine descent, your holiness."

"Oh? Has the beggar finally gone mad?"

The crowd, having not witnessed what he had, heard his strange words and laughed in contemptuous amusement.

He straightened once again, his indifferent eyes graced the mocking crowd, before a beautiful smile descended on his face, not quite reaching his eyes.

⁠

"Was what I saw truly what happened? I have my doubts about what really happened, but I felt a filter had been carefully placed on the very fabric of reality. Where was the voice of reason that came from the crowd when he needed a semblance of humanity? I refuse to believe all humans he encountered are rotten. All of this seems geared to make this man fall into despair. What was so special about him that made a God create such an elaborate plan to reel him in? Why was he the only one who could hear him? Ugh, I have so many unanswered questions piling up inside me.

I fear this might not be the last time this will happen. I speculate it happened many times before now."

She sighed, feeling sleep call her into its gentle embrace, and was unwilling to resist, so she dropped her quill, then carefully hid her diary before getting to bed.

A satisfying sigh escaped her lips before sleep finally took her.

"Goodnight."

.

.

.

"Goodnight."

⁠

Under a massive tree, several hundred meters long and dozens of meters wide, a fourteen-year-old boy sat, his back resting on the hard bark of the tree with a thick book in hand. His swirling, half-lidded purple gaze was fixed on the book’s pages.

Occasionally, he would turn the pages of the thick, ancient document. While enjoying the gentle breeze that kissed his skin affectionately.

This was Alaric. The frail child of yesterday had transformed; his frame, once slight and unassuming, now bore the sculpted muscles of a young warrior that held explosive power. He wore a red combat robe that complemented his long, well-kept crimson hair.

Eight years has passed and he has grown onto a fine young man.

"You shouldn’t sneak up on me, you know. And you are late." He said, with indifference. His once-childish voice now held a deeper tone.

Eva, who had just appeared beside him, clicked her tongue and pouted. "Tsk tsk, I can’t even sneak up on you despite all the training I have been through. How unfair."

She flicked her snowy white hair, sat beside him, and gently rested her head on his shoulder. "Soooo...." she elongated the syllable, her voice playful. "What are you reading?"

"Don’t change the topic, Eva, you know I hate tardiness." He said, a rare flicker of annoyance in his expression.

"I was still having my fill of the food you cooked. It was sooo delicious, I couldn’t stop myself from having seconds, then third...."

"Ok, that’s enough. Just don’t let it happen again."

"Sorry, I thought as today was the day of our...." Her voice trailed off.

He understood. Today was indeed a special day for both of them. It was the day their destinies would finally be melded together, and she felt the need to have a moment of celebration.

His expression softened.

"Let’s leave that for when it is time. Preparations are still being made, so we shouldn’t worry about that. Meanwhile, our topic for today is martial spirits."

"The cultivation system of the present era is vastly different from those of the lost ages. Back then, there was no need for martial spirits or any construct for that matter. Humans are the ones most in need of martial spirits, especially those considered pure humans, whose ancestral lineage never accepted external bloodlines for power. They are helpless after the body realm without the help of martial souls, as they are unable to sense universal laws without them."

Eva quickly interjected, "Oh, so I don’t need a martial soul, because I am not human. I am a dark Elf after all." She said with pride in her eyes.

Alaric snapped his book shut before using it to gently tap her head. "Don’t interrupt me, but you are right. Other species have no need for martial souls. They have direct access to heavenly laws without the need for connections like martial souls.

Some humans are born with high-caliber martial souls that tend to reveal themselves to them during their foundation stage at the beginning of their journey through resonance."

"Oh, you mean like the resonance I have? But I don’t have a martial soul, right? Eek sorry"

She rubbed her forehead, which now has a bump, while pouting. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"You don’t need a martial soul, but it doesn’t mean you don’t have a martial soul. It’s a gamble, really; not every human is born with one, too.

Resonance is a state of hypersensitivity to a particular law, a tuning of the soul so precise that it sings in harmony with a cosmic principle. For instance, you have a resonance with the very essence of swords; some others would have resonance with the law of fire, water, or even more abstract forces. For humans, resonance is a guarantee that their martial soul will be high-grade. These grades are Dormant, Awakened, Rare, Sky, Eternal, Sovereign, and the mythical Origin grade. Having a resonance guarantees a sky-grade rating and above. Where it falls exactly now depends on the individual’s efforts."

He paused, letting her digest the information. But he quickly regretted it, because she decided his shoulder wasn’t comfortable enough and decided to rest on his lap.

’Hey, aren’t you getting too comfortable here?’

"Ehem, An individual without martial soul can also gain one through several means. Humans have an uncanny ability to adapt to every situation. They always find a way. As Artisans, smiths, and inscriptionists evolved, they managed to create artificial martial souls that could be nurtured within themselves. They also struck a deal with the beast realm, which agreed to send its young ones in good faith to the human realm, where they could be bound to humans as martial souls, thereby benefiting both parties.

So every human, no matter their initial talent for cultivation, has a chance at immortality; they just have to be willing."