Emperor of the Source

A few weeks passed after the massive Time Formation had been inscribed over the inner-zone base of the Azure Garden, and the transformation it brought to the Crimson Vital Sect was nothing short of profound.

Adrian walked slowly through the base, his gaze moving across the structures and the people within them, quietly observing the current state of affairs. In just these few weeks, significant progress had already been made. During the initial days following the formation's activation, most of his time had been consumed by strategic meetings. Although they had only a single month of preparation time in the outside world, within the time formation that translated to nearly one hundred and twenty years. In the grand scale of Rule Stage cultivation, one hundred and twenty years was still considered a short span, but compared to a mere month, it was an invaluable advantage.

Hestia, along with all the elders and Adrian himself, had spent several days discussing how to utilize this time as efficiently as possible. Plans were laid out, refined, and reorganized repeatedly until every aspect of preparation had been accounted for. Adrian had contributed several of his own plans, and ideas from the other elders were consolidated into a unified direction. By the end of those discussions, every individual within the sect had been assigned specific responsibilities.

One of Adrian's primary responsibilities had been the creation of knowledge spheres, a task he had dedicated himself to for the entire past week. He had only just completed the process of creating and distributing specialized spheres containing the necessary comprehension paths for Crimson Vital Dominion and Verdant Genesis. Disciples were given the freedom to choose which divine concept they wished to pursue first, and based on that choice, they would receive the corresponding knowledge sphere.

For the disciples, this method was far superior to traditional learning. Instead of spending centuries observing formations or attending lectures in an attempt to grasp arcane concepts, knowledge spheres compressed that process into mere decades.

At the same time, Adrian's people from the Milky Way Galaxy had entered their respective cultivation chambers within the base in Azure Garden, focusing entirely on ascending to the Rule Stage. Given the efficiency of the environment and the guidance provided, it would likely take them a few decades to fully comprehend the arcane concepts required for their breakthrough.

Adrian had visited his parents before they entered seclusion. Thomas had clapped him on the shoulder, grinning despite the tension in his jaw.

"Your mother and I won't embarrass you, son. We'll catch up."

Elara had simply embraced him, and then they both entered seclusion.

Sentinel and Aurelia had left Aerin in Hestia's care, trusting the sect leader to guide their daughter through this critical period.

The initial awe and shock brought on by the time formation had gradually faded among the disciples. In its place, a steady rhythm of disciplined cultivation had taken hold. The entire base operated like a well-oiled mechanism, each part functioning in harmony with the others. Disciples cultivated earnestly, while elders carried out their designated responsibilities.

Lara and Maelis were overseeing the alchemy department, focusing on producing large quantities of healing pills required for the upcoming war. Caelum was responsible for recruitment, bringing in new disciples, and conducting entrance examinations. Varcain handled artifact acquisition, a crucial aspect of war preparation.

Hestia herself had not remained idle either. Instead of focusing solely on her personal cultivation, she had taken on the role of overseeing the entire sect, guiding disciples, and reaching out to Nightshade to secure mercenary support. Even though the Thousand Veils Sect specialized primarily in assassins, their presence alone could not be underestimated.

The Crimson Vital Sect's disciple count had grown steadily, but it still stood at only around one hundred and fifty thousand. In contrast, the Everlasting Pill Sect already had close to half a million, and with additional mercenaries, that number would only increase further. Even assassins, in this context, represented a significant strategic advantage.

As Adrian continued walking, he noticed groups of disciples cultivating under various trees across the garden. While some preferred the controlled environment of cultivation chambers, others chose to immerse themselves in nature, drawing upon the ambient energy of the Azure Garden. The entire base felt like a dormant volcano, quietly vibrating with the suppressed energy of thousands of cultivators pushing themselves toward their limits.

One disciple, a young humanoid man with pale blue skin, opened his eyes and noticed Adrian. He immediately stood, bowing deeply. The others followed suit.

"Elder Adrian."

Adrian nodded in acknowledgment, "Continue your cultivation. Do not let my presence distract you."

The disciple hesitated, then spoke. "Elder, may I ask a question?"

Adrian gestured for him to proceed.

"How do we know if we are ready?" the disciple asked, his voice steady but laced with underlying tension. "For the war, I mean. How do we know if we are strong enough?"

The others watched Adrian, their expressions mirroring the same unspoken fear.

Adrian considered the question, "You will never feel ready if you truly consider the scale of the entire war. Maybe your mind will think it's ready when you are as strong as sect leader Hestia. But the reality is different for everyone; you should already understand it. So just train yourself, refine your techniques, push your limits, and when the moment comes, you act. Even if you are in the Early Rule Stage, remember that, no matter how small your contribution is, it plays a role in the war."

The disciple absorbed his words, then bowed again. "Thank you, Elder."

Adrian resumed walking.

Many of these disciples had lost companions in the previous war against the Everlasting Pill Sect. The desire for vengeance burned within them, but previously, they had lacked the strength to act upon it. Now, with the Time Formation, the Azure Garden, and the knowledge spheres, they had been given a rare opportunity, one they refused to waste.

Adrian's attention shifted as he passed several training arenas. Disciples were actively practicing authority techniques, divine spells, and using their domains. The clashes of energy and the fluctuations of divine essence filled the air in those spaces. Eventually, he arrived at a quieter arena.

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Unlike the others, this one was almost silent. Yet the pressure within it was far heavier.

Adrian slowed his steps as he approached the edge, his gaze settling on the scene before him.

At the center stood Hestia, surrounded by a wide circle of seated disciples. Nearly twenty of them sat cross-legged, their bodies tense, their expressions strained as they endured something invisible yet overwhelming. Among them, Adrian immediately noticed Aerin.

She sat with her legs folded, her small frame trembling visibly. Sweat gathered across her forehead and ran down her cheeks in thin streams. Her brows were tightly furrowed, her lips pressed together as she struggled to maintain her focus.

There were no visible attacks, no manifestations of divine essence, yet Adrian could clearly sense what was happening. Hestia was exerting pressure directly onto them by using her willforce.

"This is not as simple as mana," Hestia's calm voice echoed across the arena, "Willforce is the energy of your mind, your intent, your resolve, and your consciousness. The pressure I am exerting is my awareness pressing upon reality itself. It is intangible, ever-present, and exists within all beings, yet lies beyond normal perception. Without it, your authority collapses, your domain shatters, and your techniques become meaningless."

As she spoke, the pressure intensified.

Several disciples immediately faltered. One let out a strained breath, his shoulders shaking before his posture collapsed entirely. The moment his focus broke, the pressure rebounded violently, forcing him to cough as he slumped forward onto his hands, gasping.

Hestia did not lessen the pressure. She stood perfectly still, her crimson robes barely stirring.

"Reset your position and focus carefully," she instructed calmly, "If your mind cannot remain stable under this level of willforce pressure, you will fail the moment you enter a battlefield. No enemy will grant you mercy. No opponent will give you time to recover your composure."

The disciple steadied himself and returned to position, though his breathing remained uneven.

Adrian's gaze returned to Aerin. Her trembling had grown worse. Her entire body shook now, subtle vibrations running through her small frame. Unlike the others, she struggled with prolonged stillness. She had always been restless, curious, and easily distracted. For her, sitting motionless and forcing her mind into calm focus was like trying to compress a raging storm into a single point.

Even during her earlier cultivation back in the private suite, she had been engaged in learning, actively interacting with the arcane concepts. That, at least, had consumed her focus into comprehension. But here, she was required to sit still, doing nothing but maintaining her mind stable against this invisible pressure.

"Focus," Hestia's voice reached her directly, sharper this time. "You are no longer a child. If you cannot even sit calmly under this little pressure, how do you expect to stand on a battlefield where the willforce pressure will be far greater?"

Aerin clenched her fists tightly, her breathing uneven. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, too rapidly. For a moment, it seemed as though she would lose control entirely.

Then—

She steadied. The shift was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Hestia noticed it instantly.

Beside Aerin, another disciple sat in complete stillness. Hestia's gaze shifted slightly toward her. A young girl with pale blue skin and elongated ears maintained perfect posture, her breathing steady, her expression calm to the point of detachment. This was Caelia, another of Hestia's personal disciples.

Where Aerin was a barely contained storm, Caelia was a still lake under pressure.

Hestia's gaze moved between them, a faint trace of surprise flickering across her expression. Aerin, despite her instability, was adapting faster than expected. The chaos within her was beginning to settle, forced into order through sheer stubborn will. Caelia, on the other hand, maintained perfect control, progressing in a precise and disciplined manner. Two completely different approaches, yet both held their ground.

Hestia increased her willforce pressure again. The shift was immediate. The invisible weight doubled, pressing down on the disciples' minds like a mountain suddenly materialized above them.

This time, several more disciples faltered and collapsed, their willforce scattering as they lost consciousness. One toppled sideways, unconscious before he hit the ground. Another gasped sharply, then went limp, his eyes rolling back. A third managed to catch himself with his hands before slumping forward, breathing shallow and rapid.

A group assigned to handle such cases quickly moved in and carried them away. Within moments, the fallen disciples had been removed, leaving empty spaces in the circle. Only a handful remained now.

Aerin and Caelia were among them. Aerin's body trembled violently in this increased pressure, yet she refused to break, her eyes shut tightly as she held on through sheer stubbornness.

Caelia's fingers twitched slightly, a faint crease forming between her brows, but her posture remained steady.

Minutes passed, each one stretching longer than the last. The remaining disciples began to fall one by one.

At last, only Aerin and Caelia were the last two disciples that remained.

Then Aerin exhaled sharply, her body slumping forward as she lost control. She caught herself with her hands, gasping as the pressure finally overwhelmed her mental defenses. Her arms shook as they held her weight.

"I—I almost had it…" she muttered, frustration evident as she wiped the sweat from her face with the back of her hand.

Hestia did not respond immediately. Her gaze remained fixed on Caelia. The pressure continued, unrelenting.

A few seconds later, Caelia's composure finally broke as well.

Silence settled over the arena.

The pressure of willforce vanished instantly, as though it had never existed. The air felt lighter, breathable again.

Hestia stepped forward as she approached the two girls, "You both lasted longer than the others," she said, her tone neutral, though there was clear approval beneath it. "But neither of you reached true stability. That means you are still only resisting the pressure instead of calming your mind within it."

Aerin groaned, leaning back on her hands, "That's not fair… it feels like my head is going to explode."

Caelia glanced at her, her expression composed once more despite the lingering exhaustion, "You are trying to suppress your chaotic thoughts. You should not have them in the first place if you want to be calm."

Aerin blinked, then frowned, "Don't try to sound like one of the elders. You lost too."

"Still, I lasted longer than you," Caelia replied evenly.

Aerin stared at her for a moment, her mouth opening as if to argue. Then she let out a short laugh despite her exhaustion, "Fine. You win this round."

After a brief pause, even Caelia's lips curved slightly, the faintest hint of a smile appearing before vanishing just as quickly.

Hestia observed them quietly, a thought forming in her mind. "…Interesting," she murmured under her breath. A healthy rivalry was taking shape. Competition often drove disciples to push beyond their perceived limits, especially when both parties respected each other's strength.

"Rest for ten minutes," she instructed, "Then we begin again."

Aerin groaned loudly, her head dropping back, "Again?!"

Yet despite her complaint, Aerin remained seated, already preparing herself. She rolled her shoulders, shook out her hands, and took several deep breaths. Beside her, Caelia closed her eyes once more without a word, her breathing already settling into the rhythm of meditation.

From the edge of the arena, Adrian watched silently. His gaze lingered on Aerin. He saw her exhaustion, the strain in her small frame, yet also her determination. She pushed forward when it mattered, refusing to fall behind. Even now, barely recovered, she prepared herself for the next round rather than asking for additional rest.

And beside her, Caelia, someone who could match her, challenge her, and perhaps stand beside her. A faint smile appeared on Adrian's face. This was good. Aerin needed this. A rivalry, a connection, a life of her own.

She needed relationships, challenges, failures, and victories that were her own. She needed to forge her own path, not simply follow in his shadow. Only through such experiences could she truly grow. It was part of growing up, part of experiencing life beyond survival and struggle.

Satisfied, Adrian turned away from the arena. The sect was progressing. His people were advancing. The foundation for the coming war was steadily taking shape.

Now, it was time to focus on the next responsibilities he had. He needed to check on Lysandra's progress with the inscription department and review Varcain's artifact acquisition report.

Without looking back again, Adrian walked away.