One Week

Time flew by, and a week passed in the blink of an eye.

Night had just fallen, and candlelight flickered within the inn room.

Matthew had just finished dinner. He sat quietly by himself for a moment, slowly exhaling a long breath of turbid air, feeling the harmonious, abundant power within him that responded perfectly to his will. He murmured to himself:

“As expected of the offspring of a Gold Rank creature, the life energy contained within the crystal core is incredibly abundant. It took a full week to completely digest it.”

Over the past week, with the help of the abundant vital energy and gentle power provided by the daily magical beast meat, combined with the circulation of his breathing technique and meditation, his body had quietly digested the excess life energy from the goat demon crystal core after his breakthrough to the Silver Rank.

At this moment, his vital energy was full and his stamina was abundant. Both his physical strength and spiritual perception were in a harmonious, sharp, and perfect state.

He walked to the window and pushed open the wooden shutters, letting the cool night breeze blow into the room. In the distance, the lights of the inner city sparkled like stars, while even further away lay the dark silhouettes of the mountains. The night in this mortal realm was as peaceful as ever, yet also as... limited as ever.

“My strength has recovered, and my foundation is more solid. But there is still no news regarding the location of the Fire Vortex Tower.”

Matthew cast his gaze toward the boundless night sky. The sense of security born from his improved strength was quickly replaced by deeper, more far-reaching thoughts.

Ever since he learned the method of return from Sutton that night, Matthew's daily cultivation had gained a new, fixed routine. In the dead of night during meditation, he would sit quietly alone, calm his mind, slowly circulate the 《Elemental Meditation Method》 to its optimal state, and then pour his Spirit into the book. Yet, there was still no information.

With these thoughts in mind, Matthew delayed no longer.

He sat back down on the bed and extinguished the candle, letting the room plunge into a darkness suitable for meditation. Outside the window, the sparse starlight and the distant lights of the inner city filtered through the window paper, casting hazy, faint patches of light in the room.

He closed his eyes, his breathing gradually becoming deep and steady. His mind sank, and his consciousness slowly narrowed, casting aside all stray thoughts, like sinking into a peaceful, deep pool. The circulation path of the 《Elemental Meditation Method》 emerged clearly in his mind, and his Spirit was mobilized accordingly, slowly flowing and gathering along a specific trajectory.

Once his mind was completely tranquil and his Spirit had been adjusted to its most pure and condensed state, Matthew's mind stirred slightly.

Instead of immediately pouring his Spirit into the book in a brute-force manner, he followed Sutton's instructions and first let his Spirit circulate within his body for several cycles to reach a warm, stable, and “active” state.

Only then did he separate a thread of Spirit that was as thin as a hair yet exceptionally condensed. Like an outstretched, invisible tentacle, he slowly and carefully guided it toward the book beside his pillow, which bore the academy's mark.

The moment his Spirit touched the pages, a subtle sense of resonance arose. The book itself did not seem to be anything special, but when his Spirit made contact with it at the specific frequency of the meditation method, a certain sleeping “mark” was gently triggered.

At first, it was still the familiar silence and void.

But Matthew remained patient and unhurried. He maintained a stable output of Spirit while focusing his entire mind on the single point of contact with the book, carefully sensing even the slightest, most subtle change.

After a few breaths, a change quietly occurred.

It was not a visual image, nor was it an auditory sound. Rather, it was an extremely faint “pulling sensation” originating from the depths of his consciousness.

It was like sensing an almost imperceptible disturbance in the current from a vast distance in the absolute darkness of the deep sea. This feeling was vague and ethereal, as if it could dissipate at any moment, yet it pointed truly and unerringly toward a specific, distant “direction.”

Matthew's mind jolted, and he immediately locked all his attention onto this faint connection. He attempted to “go against the current,” using his Spirit to gently touch and follow that trace of traction, trying to make it clearer and more concrete.

However, just like every previous attempt, this sensation was extremely fragile and unstable. It persisted, but it refused to provide any further information.

There was no outline of a map, no details of a path, no indication of distance, and certainly no description or image of the “Fire Vortex Tower” itself.

It was merely a directional intuition, a “coordinate point” existing in the ethereal unknown.

Matthew could even sense that this pulling was not set in stone.

It seemed to fluctuate with the strength of his Spirit, the level of his concentration, and some indescribable external conditions.

‘Perhaps it depends on whether the “commotion” Sutton mentioned has settled down?’ Matthew's mind stirred slightly.

He tried to increase the intensity of his Spirit infusion, attempting to “break through” this hazy barrier. But when his Spirit exceeded a certain subtle threshold, the trace of pulling did not become clearer; instead, as if startled or triggering some protective mechanism, it suddenly became chaotic and blurry, then quickly faded away, vanishing without a trace.

No matter how he searched or called out, he could no longer capture it.

Matthew slowly withdrew his Spirit and opened his eyes. In the darkness, his eyes reflected the faint light from outside the window, calm and placid, yet carrying a trace of understanding.

“As expected, it still won't work.”

He murmured to himself, his voice barely audible in the quiet room.

This continuous and stable, yet faint connection precisely confirmed Sutton's judgment—the matter had not yet completely settled down.

The academy was merely maintaining a bare minimum connection, offering apprentices on the outside a sense of “hope” and a “direction” without truly opening the gateway of return. This was both a form of protection, preventing apprentices from blindly returning during the unrest and meeting with disaster, and perhaps a screening process and a waiting game. Only at the “right” time would the complete path be revealed to those who met the criteria.

“It seems the exact location of the Fire Vortex Tower and the detailed path of return will not clearly manifest until the ‘commotion’ has truly passed, or until the academy deems it safe.”

“However, Sutton hasn't taken the initiative to contact me over the past week, so there's no need to worry about temporary safety.”

He knew that the signpost had already lit up on the other side. It was just that the road leading there still required waiting for the mist to dissipate and the opportune day to arrive.

For now, he only needed to maintain the connection, cultivate patiently, and continue to accumulate. When he became strong enough and when a clear summon echoed from afar, that road would naturally appear beneath his feet.

Night breeze blew in through the open window, carrying the slight chill of early autumn. Matthew composed his thoughts, and his Spirit sank once more into his sea of consciousness, beginning another round of pure meditation.

...